Chapter 14 — “The Almost”
691 Words
The evening felt too quiet.
Lily sat curled on the sofa, wearing a short, soft, wine-colored dress that hugged her in ways she didn’t fully realize until she caught her reflection in the screen. She’d dressed nicely for Louis’s visit… but he’d canceled last minute.
Something came up srry 😭 next time!
That was all he said.
She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or annoyed.
But now she was alone… or so she thought.
A romance movie played softly on the TV, warm light flickering across her legs as she absentmindedly hugged a pillow. On-screen, the lead actor had just confessed love to the heroine, whispering it like it was forbidden.
Lily tried not to imagine someone else saying it.
Footsteps approached.
She turned—and froze.
Arden stood in the doorway, hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a dark T-shirt and joggers. He paused when he saw her.
And in that moment… something in him changed.
His eyes dragged slowly from her legs to her neckline, the breath leaving his chest just a little too sharply.
“You’re dressed up,” he murmured.
“For Louis,” she said honestly. “But he isn’t coming.”
Arden’s jaw tightened—just faintly, just enough.
“I see,” he said quietly, stepping into the room.
He didn’t sit at the other end of the couch like she expected.
He sat right beside her.
Close enough that their knees almost touched.
Close enough she could smell his cologne and feel the warmth radiating from him.
“What are you watching?” he asked, though his eyes weren’t on the TV. They were on her.
“A romance.”
“Of course you are,” he muttered under his breath.
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No.” He swallowed.
“I have a problem with how good you look sitting here watching it.”
Her cheeks burned.
The room felt too warm.
Too quiet.
Too intimate.
On screen, the couple leaned in for a kiss—soft, slow, like gravity pulling them together.
Lily felt Arden shift beside her.
He didn’t look at the screen anymore.
He looked at her.
At her lips.
At the curve of her neck.
“Lily…” he whispered, as if warning himself.
But she didn’t move away.
She didn’t breathe.
She didn’t blink.
That was all the permission he needed.
He leaned in—slow, deliberate—and pressed a soft kiss to her neck.
Just above her shoulder.
Warm.
Dangerous.
Electric.
Lily inhaled sharply.
His hand slid to her waist—not low, not improper, just enough to steady her as he kissed her again… and again, each kiss slower, deeper, more undone than the last.
“Arden…” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He groaned softly, forehead resting against her collarbone.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
“Please… tell me to stop.”
But she didn’t.
Her hand lifted to his shoulder, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt.
He kissed higher this time—along her jaw, almost touching the corner of her lips. His hand at her waist tightened slightly, pulling her closer.
He was losing control.
She knew it.
He knew it.
“Lily…” he breathed, his lips brushing her cheek.
And then—
BANG.
A sharp knock at the door.
Too loud.
Too sudden.
They both froze.
Arden pulled back instantly, breath unsteady, eyes wide with conflict and frustration.
He stood up too fast, running a hand through his hair, pacing once like he needed to burn off the tension.
“I—” He swallowed hard. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Lily sat breathless on the sofa, skin still tingling where his lips had been.
“But you did,” she whispered.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, visibly fighting himself.
The knocking came again.
He forced his voice steady.
“We… should see who that is.”
And just like that—
the moment shattered.
But the fire between them didn’t go out.
It only burned hotter.
- Writer
