Countdown Confessions: Chapter 3 - Zero Hour

"I’ve been tryin' to stay in my lane, Hallie. But the lane’s disappeared." 11:50 PM. The countdown is starting, the crowd is chanting, and the snow is beginning to fall over the Manhattan skyline. Trapped in a quiet corner of the terrace, the time for jokes and "Safety Pacts" is over. Hallie finally calls Cal out on the way he’s been looking at her, and his confession changes everything. When the clock hits zero, it’s not just a New Year—it’s the end of the friendship they once knew and the beginning of a passion ten years in the making.

Chapter Three 

Hallie 

Zero Hour

The bass from the penthouse speakers was thumping so hard I could feel it in the soles of my feet, a rhythmic intrusion that seemed to mock the erratic, frantic drumming of my own heart. We were back on the terrace, tucked into a shadowed corner where the glass railing met the cold stone of the building. The party inside was a blurred kaleidoscope of sequins, champagne flutes, and forced laughter, but out here, the world was reduced to the two of us and the biting December air.

The city was a glittering jewelry box below us, millions of lights sprawling out toward the horizon, but I couldn't look at the view. The Manhattan skyline had nothing on the man standing in front of me.

I could only look at Cal.

He had shed his heavy wool coat the moment we stepped back into the freezing night air, tucking it firmly around my shoulders despite my protests, leaving him in nothing but his charcoal suit jacket as he faced the wind. Now, he stood in just his suit jacket, the charcoal fabric straining against his shoulders. His chest was heaving as if he’d just run a marathon, his breath hitching in the cold air, forming small clouds of white vapor between us. The Scottish burr he’d been wielding like a weapon all night, charming the room while simultaneously marking his territory was gone. In its place was a raw, jagged silence that felt like a physical weight pressing against my sternum.

I glanced over his shoulder at the giant digital clock projected onto the skyscraper across the street. The red numbers were unforgiving.

"11:55," I whispered, my voice trembling, whipped away almost instantly by the wind. "Five minutes, Cal. Then we can go. Greasy Chinese food, remember? The Safety Pact. We’re almost home free."

"To hell with the pact, Hallie," he rasped.

The words weren't a joke. There was no teasing glint in his eyes, no playful smirk. He stepped into my space, his massive shadow swallowing me whole, pinning me between the stone pillar and the heat of his body. He didn't look like the 'safe' best friend who had held my hand through a dozen bad dates. He looked like a man who was done pretending, a man who had reached the absolute limit of his endurance.

"Cal?" My voice was small, breathless.

"You spent the last hour smiling at that idiot Mark," he said, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that made my knees feel like they were made of water. "You let him touch you. You let him lean in close enough to smell your perfume. You let him think he had a ghost of a chance. And all I could think about—all I’ve been able to think about all night—was the way your skin felt under my knuckles when I zipped that dress up. The way you breathed when I touched your neck."

He took another half-step closer, his thighs brushing against the emerald silk of my skirt.

"I’ve been tryin' to stay in my lane, Hallie. I truly have. I’ve played the part of the 'good friend' until I’m sick with it. But the lane’s disappeared under all this 'just friends' rubbish. I can’t breathe in it anymore."

I felt the air leave my lungs, my back pressing harder against the cold stone. "You've been... you've been pining? For me? All this time?"

He let out a short, dark laugh that didn't reach his eyes—a sound of pure, frustrated longing. "Pining? That’s a soft word for it, lass. A romantic word. I’ve been starving. Ten years of watching you, wanting you, and convincing myself that being your 'anchor' was enough to keep me sane. I told myself that as long as I was the one you called first, I could handle the rest. But it's not enough. It’s never been enough."

Behind the glass, the music swelled. I could see people crowding toward the windows, checking their watches, lifting their glasses. The energy of a thousand people waiting for a reset was vibrating through the glass doors.

"11:58," I breathed. The crowd inside began to roar, their voices muffled but growing in intensity. I could hear the faint, rhythmic chant starting. Ten... nine...

"I didn't think you felt that way," I whispered, my hands reaching out of the oversized sleeves of his coat to clutch the lapels of his suit jacket. I needed to hold onto him, to anchor myself, or the sheer force of his confession was going to send me over the railing. "I thought I was the only one. I thought I was losing my mind, feeling like my skin was on fire every time we shared a couch or your hand lingered on mine a second too long."

Cal’s hands came up, cupping my face with a ferocity that made me gasp. His palms were hot, a stark contrast to the freezing wind, and his thumbs traced my cheekbones with a touch that was both rough and desperate. He looked at me with an intensity that felt like he was memorizing my soul.

"You’re not the only one, lass. You never were," he growled.

Five... four...

The world around us seemed to go into a vacuum. The shouting from the party, the muffled bass, the whistling wind, it all fell away into a dull hum. There was only the heat of Cal’s palms, the scent of his sandalwood cologne, and the dark, focused hunger in his eyes that told me there was no turning back.

"Hallie," he whispered, his forehead dropping to mine, his nose brushing against mine. "If I do this... if I kiss you... there’s no 12:05. There’s no going back to the way it was. There’s no 'just kidding' or 'we were just caught up in the moment.' You understand that, right? If I cross this line, I won't be your 'best friend' anymore. I’ll be the man who loves you. I’ll be the man who doesn't let anyone else touch you. I’ll be the man who stays."

My heart gave one final, violent thud against my ribs. "I don't want to go back, Cal. I’ve been waiting for you to be brave enough to say it for three years."

Three... two... ONE!

The sky exploded. A riot of gold, silver, and emerald sparks erupted over Central Park, reflected a thousand times over in the glass towers of the city. But I didn't see a single one of them. Because at the exact moment the clock hit zero, Cal’s mouth crashed into mine.

It wasn't a "best friend" kiss. It wasn't tentative, and it certainly wasn't sweet. It was a decade of suppressed longing, a violent, beautiful collision of two souls who had been orbiting each other for far too long. He tasted like expensive scotch, cold winter air, and the inexplicable scent of home.

His tongue swept against mine, demanding a surrender I had been dying to give him since I was twenty-one. I let out a low moan into his mouth, my fingers tangling in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, deeper. I wanted to be consumed by him. I wanted to erase every guy who had ever come before him with the sheer weight of this one moment.

He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through my entire chest, and his grip on my waist tightened until there wasn't a single molecule of air between us. The silk of my dress felt like it was melting against the wool of his trousers, the friction of our bodies the only thing keeping us from freezing in the midnight air.

Inside the penthouse, people were cheering and clinking glasses, oblivious to the fact that out here, the earth had just shifted on its axis. We weren't Hallie and Cal, the inseparable duo who everyone joked would end up together. We were something entirely new. Something raw. Something combustible.

When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his eyes were blown wide, the dark pupils swallowing the iris. His breathing was as ragged as mine, his lips swollen from the force of the kiss. He looked down at me, and for the first time all night, a smirk flickered across his face. A real, genuine Cal smirk, the one that always meant he had a secret and he was about to share it with me.

"Happy New Year, Hallie," he whispered, his voice still thick with the burr that usually only came out when he was overwhelmed.

"Happy New Year, Cal," I replied, my voice a breathy wreck. I leaned my head against his shoulder, finally letting the adrenaline settle into something warm and solid. "So... about that 12:05 deadline? We're technically three minutes late to leave."

He pulled me back into his arms, his grip possessive and sure, tucking his chin over the top of my head as the fireworks continued to thunder above us.

"The deadline's been extended, lass," he murmured into my hair. "Indefinitely. I think we’ll stay right here for a bit. The rest of the world can wait."

I closed my eyes, breathing him in, knowing that for the first time in ten years, the countdown wasn't leading to an end. It was leading to Day One.

Come back tomorrow for another chapter

Copyright © by LS Phoenix

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Published by LS Phoenix

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First Edition: December 2025

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