Jesse didn't sleep.
She tossed, turned, sat up, lay down again, but nothing settled the storm inside her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ashley's face—blank, unreadable, hurting but pretending not to. She had walked away so fast, so cold, as if Jesse kissing Tristan had burned something that was already fragile.
By sunrise, Jesse was done pretending.
Done hiding.
Done running.
She grabbed her jacket and left her apartment before her thoughts could scare her back inside.
---
Ashley's Apartment — Early Morning
Ashley had barely slept either.
She sat on the far end of her couch, legs pulled up, the living room dark except for the soft city lights sneaking through the curtains. The TV played something she wasn't watching. A mug of untouched tea sat cooling beside her.
She kept replaying the moment in the studio.
Jesse leaning into Tristan's kiss.
Or at least, that's how her mind insisted on remembering it.
Why does it matter?
She wasn't supposed to care.
Except she did.
More than she should.
More than she'd ever admit.
A soft knock startled her.
Ashley froze.
She knew who it was.
Only one person knocked like that—three gentle taps, a pause, then one more.
Her heart jumped, but her face stayed calm as she stood and opened the door.
Jesse stood there, breathless, hair slightly messy from the wind, eyes already glassy—as if she were carrying a weight too heavy for her chest.
"Ashley…" she began.
"Jesse, it's too early," Ashley said lightly—too lightly. Jesse stepped forward and held the door open with her hand.
"Please," Jesse whispered. "Just… please. Let me talk."
Ashley hesitated.
Jesse looked tired.
Scared.
And honest.
So Ashley stepped back, opening the door wider.
Jesse entered slowly, as if afraid she didn't deserve the space anymore.
Ashley crossed her arms.
"So what is it?"
Jesse swallowed.
Her voice wavered.
"It wasn't what it looked like yesterday."
Ashley raised an eyebrow.
"You already said that."
"No," Jesse said, shaking her head. "I didn't explain it right. I… I didn't get a chance to."
Ashley lowered her gaze to the floor.
"Jesse… he's your boyfriend. You don't owe me an explanation."
Jesse's heart cracked.
"He isn't," she said firmly. "Tristan isn't my boyfriend. He never was."
Ashley looked up slowly.
There was confusion in her eyes.
Then something else—hope she was trying desperately to hide.
"Then why did he kiss you?" Ashley asked softness creeping into her words.
Jesse stepped closer without realizing.
"He kissed me because I didn't understand something until too late."
"What's that?" Ashley whispered.
Jesse took a shaky breath.
"I kept saying no to him… because of you."
Ashley's breath caught.
Jesse continued, her voice trembling with honesty she couldn't hide anymore.
"Every time you pushed me toward him, something felt wrong. I didn't want to date him. I didn't want his attention. I didn't want his kisses."
Jesse's voice cracked.
"I didn't want him, Ash. I kept asking myself why. And yesterday… when I saw you taking pictures with that guy—so close—my chest tightened. I—I couldn't breathe."
Ashley's lips parted, but she stayed silent.
Jesse stepped closer again.
Ashley blinked, surprised.
"I realized why it bothered me," Jesse whispered. "Why I couldn't stand seeing someone else's hands on you."
She finally met Ashley's eyes.
Brown into brown.
"I'm jealous, Ashley. I've been jealous for months."
Ashley's breath trembled.
She didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Jesse took another step forward—just inches between them now.
"And when you saw Tristan kiss me, and I saw your face… I realized something that scared me more than anything."
Ashley swallowed hard.
"What… did you realize?"
Jesse's voice softened into something fragile and true.
"That it matters what you think of me."
She exhaled shakily.
"Because I like you, Ashley. I like you in ways I didn't want to admit. I like you more than I've liked anyone in a long time."
Ashley stared at her, eyes wide, lashes trembling.
Jesse's confession hung between them like a breath waiting to be released.
Jesse took the final step.
"I don't want Tristan," she whispered.
She lifted her hand slowly, giving Ashley time to stop her.
Ashley didn't move.
Jesse touched her cheek—softly, gently, like she was afraid Ashley might disappear.
"I want you."
Ashley's eyes glistened.
"Ash… say something," Jesse whispered.
Ashley didn't speak—she stepped forward instead.
Her arms slid around Jesse's shoulders.
Jesse's breath hitched—then Ashley leaned in, resting her forehead against hers.
"You really scared me yesterday," Ashley whispered.
"I know," Jesse breathed. "And I'm sorry."
Ashley closed her eyes.
"You're an idiot."
Jesse smiled weakly.
"I know."
Ashley finally met her eyes again.
"Say it again," she whispered so quietly Jesse barely heard.
Jesse didn't hesitate.
"I like you, Ash."
Ashley's lips trembled into a smile.
And then—finally, after months of tension—
Ashley kissed her.
Slow.
Warm.
Certain.
Jesse melted instantly, hands sliding to Ashley's waist, pulling her in as if she had been waiting to breathe again. Ashley moved closer, deepening the kiss, one hand on Jesse's neck, the other gripping her shirt like she'd wanted this for too long.