Page 74 of Loving Lauren
Lauren was already waiting near the front of the line when they arrived. Sierra’s heart skipped at the sight of them: black hair falling across their forehead, her old Razor Braids shirt loose on their frame, faded and soft from too many washes. In their hands was a neatly folded, brand-new band tee, held like an offering.
Sierra stepped forward, eyes catching on the shirt. “Want to trade?” she teased, nodding at the new one.
Lauren pressed a hand against the old shirt at their chest. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this one.”
Something tender spread through Sierra’s chest. “Of course. Keep it.”
The doors opened, and the crowd surged forward. Their group spilled into the pit, weaving toward the center. The buzz in the air was electric; the kind of energy that meant the night was about to burn itself into memory.
When Razor Braids finally hit the stage, the place detonated. Lights flared like fireworks, the bass line thundered through Sierra’s ribs, and the crowd moved as one living thing.
Sierra gave herself over to it completely. She danced with Raven, shouted lyrics with Thalia, and did ridiculous synchronized moves with Calliope that left them doubled over laughing. With Jett, she attempted an elaborate spin that almost dumped them both on the floor.
And then she reached Lauren.
For half a beat, she hesitated. Then she threw her hair and dropped into her infamous twerk, the same one that had cracked them all up that very first night at Neon Pulse.
Lauren’s laugh burst out, unguarded, eyes crinkling with delight. Sierra caught the blush climbing their neck, the same blush she remembered from that night months ago, and her heart twisted.
The band shifted into one of their slower, rawer songs, lyrics about being truly seen. Lauren’s smile faded into something more intent. Their gaze locked on Sierra, unflinching, as though the words pouring from the speakers belonged to them alone.
Sierra couldn’t breathe. Every lyric felt like it had been pulled from their story — the fear of being misunderstood, the relief of finally being seen.
Another song began; this one was of transformation, about becoming yourself when the right person is beside you. Lauren reached for her hand, fingers warm and sure, and never looked away.
Sierra felt tears sting as she tightened her grip. The music swelled, voices all around chanting the chorus, lights flashing red and gold.
Every rational thought screamed this was too fast, too risky. But when Lauren looked at her like that, all her carefullyconstructed walls felt paper-thin. There was no dramatic pause, no grand buildup. Sierra leaned forward and kissed them.
It wasn’t reckless like their first kisses had been, frantic with newness. It was steadier, deeper, filled with the weight of everything they’d been through. A beginning, yes, but also a promise. We can start again. We can do this right this time.
Chapter 48
Lauren stood in Sierra’s kitchen, staring at Salem like they were in some kind of standoff. With obvious disdain, he sat on the counter, tail flicking, green eyes narrowed in judgment.
“Come on, buddy.” Lauren pulled out a bag of his favorite salmon treats from behind their back. “I know I messed up before, but I’m here to stay this time. I promise.”
Salem’s ears twitched, but he didn’t move.
Lauren shook the bag, and Salem’s resolve cracked. His head tilted toward the sound, and Lauren couldn’t help but grin.
“Oh, so now I have your attention?” They opened the bag and held out a treat. “These are the good ones. The expensive stuff Sierra pretends she doesn’t spoil you with.”
Salem stretched forward, snatched the treat, and retreated to consider his options.
“And.” Lauren pulled out a small container from their other pocket. “I may have brought a tiny bit of catnip. Just a pinch.”
The moment the lid popped, Salem’s entire demeanor shifted. He began purring so loudly it sounded like a small motor, thenflopped dramatically onto his side and rolled around the counter like he was having the best day of his entire life.
“Oh my God!” Sierra laughed from the doorway. “You furry little traitor. All this time giving Lauren the cold shoulder, and all it took was bribery?”
Lauren cracked up as Salem rubbed his face against everything within reach—the coffee maker, a stack of mail, Lauren’s outstretched hand. “I think we’re officially friends again.”
“He’s going to be high for hours.” Sierra scooped up the now-blissful cat. “Look at him. He’s gone.”
Salem purred and head-butted Sierra’s chin, then reached out a paw toward Lauren like he was trying to include them in the love fest.
“I missed this.” Lauren scratched behind Salem’s ears. “All of it. This mess, this joy, this ridiculous cat.”
