Naya stared at the ceiling.
She hadn't moved in a while.
Everything felt still except her mind, which wouldn't stop replaying last night. The way his lips had hovered. The way his hands had lingered. The way nothing had actually happened, but somehow it felt like everything had.
Her fingers brushed over her lips. They felt sore. Swollen from the almost.
That phone call had ruined it. Whatever it was.
She pushed herself up slowly, hair falling in front of her face. Morning light barely crept through the curtains—the kind of light that makes the whole room feel tired with you. Her dress from last night was draped over the chair like it had given up. One heel near the door, the other probably under the bed.
Cole hadn't said much on the way home.
Just:
"Get some rest. I'll see you."
And then he left.
She didn't know what to make of that. Or of him.
With a sigh, Naya let her legs dangle off the bed. Her head still felt too full. Her heart even worse.
That was when her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She squinted at the screen. Jenny calling.
She picked up, still half-asleep.
"Mm?"
Jenny didn't waste a second.
"Girl. I just woke up in a hoodie that's not mine and zero recollection of how I got home."
That woke Naya up a little.
"Wait… what?"
"All I know is Dante was there… and now he's not. But I smell like his cologne and regret, sooo…"
Naya laughed through her yawn.
"Jenny! What did you do?"
"Things. Illegal in five states."
"Jenny!"
"Don't judge me! He kissed like a damn movie scene, and he smells like warm sin. What was I supposed to do, say no?"
Naya tried not to laugh out loud.
"You're insane."
Jenny's voice softened.
"Where'd you disappear to anyway?"
"Cole dropped me home when you went missing."
"Oooh. Wait, wait. Did he take you home?"
"He offered to. I was tired. Nothing happened, though."
"You and your self-control. I'm jealous."
Naya let out a tired smile.
"He just said he had an emergency. I'm confused."
"Ooh." Jenny snorted.
"Touché. Anyway, I'm starving and slightly in emotional crisis."
Naya smiled, phone still in hand.
Jenny was a riot. Loud, messy, honest. But more than that—she was consistent. And Naya needed something to feel familiar this morning.
She set the phone down and let the room fall quiet again.
Today was her first day at DanCo Collection Agency as an assistant designer.
Even just thinking it made her heart beat a little faster. It felt surreal. She'd spent so long chasing the idea of this—through interviews, late nights, all that back-and-forth in her head. Now it was here.
She slid out of bed, the floor cool under her feet, her oversized tee brushing against her thighs as she stretched. Her body was sore in places she couldn't explain—too much dancing, too many thoughts.
A quick trip to the bathroom. Water. Toothpaste. A splash to the face. She caught her reflection in the fogged-up mirror and wiped it clean with her hand.
Curls everywhere. Eyes still heavy.
But she looked… determined.
She pulled her hair back into a low puff. It wasn't about looking flawless. She just needed to show up.
Back in her room, she opened the wardrobe and hesitated for a moment, even though she already knew what she'd wear.
Cream blouse. Olive slacks. Gold studs.
She dressed slowly, methodically. Tucked the blouse just right. Checked herself in the mirror. Not bad. Not perfect. But her.
Her stomach fluttered—that jittery kind of nervous that only comes with new beginnings.
She threw her essentials into her black tote—small notebook, pen, compact, charger, lip balm. Slid her phone into the side pocket. Hesitated.
Grabbing her keys, she stepped outside.