Desire

XVI.

Lea

As soon as Isabel's lips met mine, everything else fell away—the confusion, the tension, the doubts. It was just her. Her hands were warm on my waist, steadying me as I let myself melt into the moment. I found myself gripping her shirt, pulling her closer, like if I didn't, she'd slip away.

I knew this was the worst thing we could be doing right now. Isabel and I were supposed to be keeping things professional, staying in our lanes, trying to repair the mess we'd been in for years. We'd both agreed to that—or at least, we'd said we did. But this? This was something else entirely.

And yet, out of all the emotions crashing through me—confusion, excitement, anxiety—all I could feel was... safe.

It didn't make sense. Isabel, of all people, was not supposed to be the one to make me feel this way. Not after everything we'd been through. We'd been enemies for so long that even the idea of us being close like this should've felt wrong. But it didn't.

Her hands slid up my sides, warm and familiar, and as she deepened the kiss, I lost track of everything except the feel of her against me. The world was spinning around us, and I didn't care. For once, I wasn't thinking about the showcase, my dad, the constant pressure I felt to be perfect. None of it mattered in that moment.

I should've stopped. I knew that. But I didn't want to. I didn't want this to end, not when being with her like this made me feel like I could finally breathe.

I pulled back just slightly, my breath coming in soft, shallow puffs against her lips. For a moment, we were just there, holding onto each other in the stillness of the kitchen. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel hers racing too.

"We—" I whispered, barely able to get the words out as I tried to catch my breath. "We shouldn't be doing this."

Her lips curved into a small smile, her hand slipping into my hair, fingers gently threading through the strands. "Maybe we shouldn't," she murmured, her voice low and teasing, "but I don't think either of us really cares right now."

She has a point.

I couldn't argue with that. There was a part of me, the logical part, that was screaming at me to stop. To take a step back and think this through, to pull away from the heat of the moment before things got more complicated than they already were. But the other part of me—the part that had been drawn to Isabel for years, despite everything—was stronger.

I closed my eyes, resting my head on her shoulder as I tried to steady myself. "Why do you always have to make things so hard?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Isabel chuckled softly, her fingers tracing light patterns on my back. "I think you like that about me."

I couldn't help but laugh, a quiet, breathless sound. She wasn't wrong. There was something about Isabel that had always gotten under my skin. Something about the way she pushed me, challenged me. Even when I hated her, I couldn't help but be drawn to that fire she had, the confidence that seemed unshakable.

And yet, here we were, locked in this moment where none of that seemed to matter. All the history between us, all the years of competition and bitterness—it was still there, but it didn't feel as heavy anymore. Not when she was here, standing between my legs, her hands cradling me like I was something precious.

I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. They were soft, darker than usual, and I could see a flicker of something in them that mirrored my own feelings. "This is... a lot," I said, though my voice didn't carry much conviction.

"Yeah," she agreed, her thumb brushing against my cheek in a way that made my heart flutter. "It is."

Her words hung in the air between us, and I found myself getting lost in her gaze, the way her presence seemed to fill the room. There was something so different about being with her like this, something that went beyond just physical attraction. It was deeper, more intimate. And the worst part? I wanted to lean into it, to let it take over, even though I knew it was dangerous.