Just For Now

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lucas’s POV

I led her up the narrow stairs, each step measured, careful. The rooftop door opened to a scene that wasn’t flashy but deliberate. Soft fairy lights were strung along the railing. A blanket was laid out on the wooden floor, and a small speaker murmured low, familiar music. Dessert from the restaurant sat in a little container beside two glasses of water.

“I didn’t want tonight to end at dinner,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Naomi glanced around, eyes wide, taking it all in. Her hair fell over her shoulder, catching the glow from the lights, and for a second, I almost forgot to breathe.

“You… did all this?” she asked softly, more surprised than impressed, and it made my chest tighten in a way I hadn’t expected.

“I remembered you said you liked quiet places,” I said. “And I wanted this to feel like ours.”

She looked at me, and I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. I’d memorized every subtle glance she’d ever given me. Every pause, every smile. This wasn’t pretend for me. Never had been.

We sat close on the blanket. Closer than necessary. Her knees brushed mine, and I didn’t move away. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, careful not to startle her.

“You notice everything,” she said quietly, almost accusatory, almost amused.

“I notice everything about you,” I admitted, letting it linger.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The silence did it for her.

I leaned just slightly closer. The music softened, the night air cooled, and everything between us tightened like a wire ready to snap.

Her eyes flicked to mine. Then down. Then back up.

I tilted my head. “Naomi…”

She didn’t move.

I could feel her heartbeat, just slightly faster than mine. My hand hovered near hers. Close enough to graze, but I stopped.

Her breath hitched. My chest ached.

I leaned in a little more. My lips almost touched hers. Close enough to feel her warmth. Her hand shifted subtly toward mine. She let it hover.

And then she pulled back.

Softly. Carefully.

“We can’t,” she whispered.

Her words hit harder than I expected.

“Why not?” I asked, voice low, controlled, though every part of me wanted to reach for her again.

“Because… if we start, we won’t know how to stop,” she said, eyes glistening in the dim light.

I swallowed. Okay. Control. Breathe. “Yeah. Okay.”

But it wasn’t okay.

The rooftop, the lights, the quiet… it had felt like ours for a single heartbeat. And now it was gone, leaving something heavier behind.

We stood up slowly. The tension didn’t ease. Not completely.

I led her back down the stairs, our hands brushing but not touching, silent but loaded with all the words neither of us could say.

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Naomi’s POV

I followed him upstairs, heart hammering in a way that made my chest ache. The rooftop looked… perfect. Not overdone. Not too much. Just soft lights, a blanket, dessert. And him. Lucas.

I swallowed hard. My stomach fluttered, my fingers itching to do something—anything—but I stayed frozen.

“You… did all this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I remembered you said you liked quiet places,” he said. “And I wanted this to feel like ours.”

I blinked. His words pressed against my chest. Ours. Just for a second, the word felt dangerous. Real. Too real.

We sat on the blanket. We're closer than I thought I could handle. My knee brushed his. My breath hitched when he tucked the strand of hair behind my ear.

“You notice everything,” I murmured.

“I notice everything about you,” he said. And I felt it. Every word, every glance, every lingering moment.

The quiet stretched, soft and intense. I felt like we were suspended in time.

He leaned in. My heart stuttered. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel the warmth radiating from him. My fingers twitched toward his.

Then my mind screamed.

We live together. We have a double date on Saturday. We have rules. Lines. This—this could ruin everything.

I pulled back just enough to create space. Not dramatically, not with anger. Just… a soft retreat.

“We can’t,” I whispered, though my voice sounded fragile even to me.

He looked at me, searching, and asked, “Why?”

“Because… if we start, we won’t know how to stop.”

I felt him tense, but he said nothing. We both knew it was true.

The walk back downstairs was painfully quiet. Every step echoed in my chest. Our hands brushed once, and neither of us pulled away completely, but it wasn’t the same.

Once inside, I moved to the couch, careful to create distance without looking obvious. He went to the kitchen to put away the dessert.

The silence was heavy. Awkward in a way that wasn’t angry but entirely real.

I tried to focus on anything else—streetlights outside, the soft music still playing, the distant hum of the city—but all I could hear was my own heartbeat and remember the almost kiss.

Saturday was looming. The double date with Hannah. And suddenly, it wasn’t just another casual outing. It was a test, a pressure cooker, a reminder that the tension between us hadn’t gone anywhere.

I realized I’d spend the next few days overthinking every look, every laugh, every brush of hands. The thought made me simultaneously nervous and… something else I didn’t want to name.

And Lucas…

He didn’t know I was thinking about Saturday the same way he probably was.

We both sat there, pretending everything was normal, but neither of us could ignore the invisible thread pulling tighter between us.

It was there. Stronger than ever.

And neither of us wanted it to snap.