Page 79 of Loving Lauren
“I love you,” Sierra whispered against their lips.
Lauren’s hands slid to the hem of her shirt, fingertips brushing skin. “Show me.”
They moved slowly, savoring every breath, every laugh that caught between kisses. Clothes scattered, limbs tangled, moonlight turned their skin silver. Sierra traced patterns along Lauren’s chest; Lauren’s fingers threaded into her hair. Their rhythm was unhurried, reverent, as if both were memorizing what home felt like in human form.
Afterward, Sierra lay with her head on their chest, listening to the steady heartbeat under her ear with Salem’s purring a faint backdrop from the other room.
“Welcome home,” she whispered into the dark.
“Welcome home,” Lauren echoed, and for the first time, the words felt permanent.
Their first movie night in the new apartment was a christening of sorts. The Inner Circle sprawled across the expanded living room. Calliope and Raven claimed the loveseat. Jett and Ellis lounged on cushions. Thalia and Tobias curled into armchairs.
“I can’t believe you two have an actual adult apartment now.” Calliope stole popcorn from the bowl balanced on Sierra’s knees. “With matching furniture and everything.”
Sierra frowned. “We don’t have matching furniture.”
“Your coffee table matches your TV stand,” Ellis pointed out.
“And your throw pillows are part of a color scheme,” Thalia added.
Lauren grinned. “We went to IKEA together. It was terrifying and domestic, and I loved it.”
Sierra pointed at them. “They argued about curtain rods for twenty minutes.”
“Curtain rods matter!” Lauren protested. “They have to hold the weight properly and match the hardware—”
“And this,” Jett muttered to Ellis, “is why they’re perfect together.”
“I heard that.” Sierra threw a piece of popcorn at him.
Salem, offended, relocated to the windowsill, where he could supervise in peace.
“What are we watching tonight?” Raven asked.
“Lauren’s pick,” Sierra replied. “And before anyone complains, they promised it’s not another serial-killer doc.”
“It’s about the history of makeup in film,” Lauren said defensively. “Totally different.”
Thalia perked up. “Actually, that sounds fascinating. I want to know how they made people look dead in old horror movies.”
“See?” Lauren said smugly. “Thalia appreciates educational content.”
“Thalia also appreciates gore,” Calliope pointed out.
As the movie started, Sierra leaned back and let her gaze drift across the room—friends laughing, teasing, sharing space. This was what she’d missed most when she and Lauren were apart. Not just Lauren, but this sense of belonging. Of family.
Lauren must have felt her watching, because they leaned close and whispered, “What are you thinking?”
“Just how lucky we are. To have all this.”
Lauren’s smile softened. “I think about that every day.”
Chapter 50
Six months into living together, Sierra and Lauren had settled into routines that felt both surprising and inevitable. Lauren made coffee every morning because they woke up first, while Sierra, still useless before caffeine, wandered out of bed in a tangle of messy hair and gratitude. Sierra usually handled dinner because she loved experimenting with recipes, and Lauren always washed the dishes because they found the rhythm of soap and water meditative.
They’d learned each other’s quirks and made room for them. Lauren organized everything by color and frequency of use, while Sierra had a system that looked like chaos but somehow made perfect sense to her. Sierra liked the apartment warm and cozy; Lauren preferred a cooler breeze, so they invested in a programmable thermostat and an absurd number of throw blankets. Sierra swore by morning showers; Lauren swore by evening ones. The bathroom counter was a delicate ballet of camera batteries, moisturizers, and makeup brushes, yet they somehow never tripped over each other’s space.
