Page 28 of Loving Lauren
They kissed again, long and carefully, full of everything they hadn’t said yet. Sierra’s hand moved slowly across Lauren’schest, over their heart that beat wild and fast, down to rest on their stomach. Lauren’s soft gasp made Sierra’s own pulse skip.
“Sierra,” Lauren whispered, their voice catching. “I never knew it could feel this safe. Can we take this slow and just cuddle tonight?”
Sierra pressed closer, her forehead against Lauren’s. “Of course we can.”
They lay tangled together, with hands that explored each other. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Gave gentle kisses. Tonight was about feeling the intimacy they craved. There would be plenty of time for sex.
They curled into each other, skin to skin, breath to breath. The room was hushed except for the soft hum of the city outside and their synchronized breathing. Sleep came slowly, like a tide returning to shore. Not just safe. Home.
Chapter 15
The invitation was hand-delivered.
Well, okay, slid under Lauren’s door with way too much glitter glue and a dramatic “TOP SECRET” sticker, but still.
Inside was a folded piece of thick cardstock, hand-lettered in silver gel pen:
Private Viewing Tonight Only:
A Celebration of Softness
Featuring the work of Sierra Turner
Location:Your favorite gallery
(a.k.a. Sierra’s living room)
Time:8 PM sharp. Bring your curiosity
Wine will be served.
Lauren had never been good at surprises. Sierra? She excelled at them.
On the walk over, Lauren kept one hand pressed to the envelope, as if it might disappear. Their heart thudded with something heavier than nerves. It felt like being chosen. Seen. Like they were walking into a moment that would change something.
Just before eight, Lauren knocked on her door, still a little breathless from the anticipation. Sierra opened it, wearing a black fitted tee and jeans that hugged her hips just right. Two glittery clips held her hair back, and they caught the light when she moved. Salem wound around her ankles like a velvet rope, granting Lauren entry.
After the tenth outfit change, Lauren had decided on a miniskirt, t-shirt, and the spiked choker Sierra once called “dangerously kissable.” When Sierra saw it, her smile faltered enough to give her away.
The transformation of the apartment was complete. String lights lined the ceiling. A playlist of warm jazz hummed from the speakers. She moved the furniture aside. Hanging from twine strung across the walls were candid, curated, intimate snapshots. They were all of Lauren.
Sierra stood beside her, bashful. “I wanted to show you how I see you. Not just through a lens. Through everything.”
Lauren moved through the room. Here they were mid-laugh, eyes crinkled. There, brushing hair from their face during a shoot. One sleeping with Salem curled protectively on their chest. Another, looking straight into the camera, unguarded, soft, and entirely themselves.
Lauren swallowed. “It’s beautiful. I don’t even recognize myself.”
Sierra’s voice softened. “That’s because you’re not used to being seen.”
Lauren turned to her, overwhelmed. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Sierra didn’t even hesitate. “Good, because I already know I am.”
They poured wine, their glasses clinking softly. Sierra laughed when Lauren took a confident sip. “This is definitely a... red wine. Very red. With grape flavors.”
“That’s a Merlot, you beautiful disaster.” Sierra grinned.
Lauren shrugged. “I understand art. Grapes, not so much.” It was easy; the kind of easy that makes you realize how rare that feeling is. They sat on the couch, fingers laced, quiet pressing around them like cotton. The air between them changed, not heavier, not charged. Just real.
