Page 14 of Misbooked for Love

“Hey,” he replies, setting his mug down. He’s wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans, casual but effortless, and I can’t help but notice how his shoulders fill out the fabric, how he’s always just…there. Solid and steady, in a way that feels like a challenge to my resolve.

There’s a moment where neither of us moves, where we’re just standing there, watching each other, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. I should say something, anything, to break this tension, but my brain is moving too fast, tripping over itself trying to keep up with my heart.

“About earlier,” I start, but the words catch in my throat. I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling,don’t know how to make sense of it when I’m not even sure myself. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“You didn’t do anything,” he cuts in, his voice gentle, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting something back. “I’m the one who?—”

We both stop, our words colliding and falling apart, and for a second, it’s like we’re back on that bench last night, too close and too afraid to do anything about it. I can feel the pull between us, magnetic and undeniable, and it’s like the room has shrunk around us, drawing us in.

I take a step closer, and he doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on mine, and I can see the conflict there—the push and pull of whatever this is, whatever we’re dancing around. My heart is pounding so loud I’m sure he can hear it, and every nerve in my body is screaming at me to stop, to turn around and walk away. He’s taken. His heart belongs to someone else, and I shouldn’t be doing this at all. Probably shouldn’t even be looking in his direction.

But I don’t stop.

I take another step, closing the space between us, and I can feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitches as I reach up, my fingers brushing lightly against his jaw. It’s a tentative touch, testing the waters, and when he doesn’t pull away, I let my hand linger, tracing the line of his cheekbone.

“Tom,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, and it’s like the last barrier between us shatters.

He moves so fast I barely register it, his hands cupping my face as he leans in, his lips finding mine with a hunger that steals my breath.

The kiss is soft at first, hesitant, like we’re both afraid to push too far, but it doesn’t take long for it to deepen, for the slow burn that’s been building between us to ignite. His lips are warm and firm, and he kisses me like he’s been wanting for this, like he’s been holding back for so long and he’s finally letting go.

I gasp against his mouth, my hands tangling through his hair as I pull him closer, and he responds in kind, his grip tightening on my waist. There’s nothing tentative about this now—it’s urgent and desperate, a clash of need and want that’s been simmering under the surface for days. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, frantic and matching mine, and I lose myself in the feel of him, the taste of him.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, staring at each other with wide eyes, and I can see the same mix of confusion and exhilaration mirrored in his expression. His thumb brushes against my cheek, a lingering touch that sends a fresh wave of heat through me.

“We shouldn’t have—” I begin, my voice unsteady,but the truth is, I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I don’t want to finish it.

“Yeah,” he says, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “But I’m not sorry.”

I close my eyes, letting his words sink in, and for a moment, I forget about everything else—the doubt, the uncertainty, the voice in my head telling me to back away. It’s just us, here in this villa, caught in a moment that feels both reckless and right.

But reality creeps in, and I pull back, just enough to see the conflict in his eyes, the same one that’s swirling in my chest. “I don’t want to be a mistake, Tom. I can’t… I can’t do this if it’s just going to end up being another thing that’s wrong.”

His hands drop, and he takes a step back, the warmth between us replaced by a cold rush of uncertainty. “Clara, you’re not?—”

I don’t let him finish. I turn away, my head spinning, and all I can think is that I’m in over my head, again, tangled up in something I’m not ready to deal with, again. I retreat to my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click, my back pressed against it as I try to catch my breath.

Whatever this is, it’s more than I bargained for, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to see it through. But the lingering taste of him, the feel of his lips on mine—it’s enough to make me wish I was.

10

TOM

The snow crunchesunder my boots as I make my way towards the main area of the hotel, the white mountain looming above me, a sharp contrast against the gray sky. It’s the kind of day that feels heavy with the promise of more snow, the kind of way that I would have welcomed back in the day, eager to get out and spend all my time outside focusing on my job and whatever came with it.

My chest is tight, my mind replaying the kiss over and over—the feel of her lips against mine, the way she melted into me, like she’d been waiting for this just as much as I had.

But then she pulled away. And I let her.

I run a hand through my hair, frustration gnawingat the edges of my thoughts. What the hell was I thinking? Kissing her like that, crossing a line I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. If Ellie were here, none of this would have happened, so why am I suddenly searching for her everywhere? Like she’s the puzzle piece that has been missing all along? And I’m not supposed to want this, want her, especially when I’ve got my life in shambles and she’s just trying to figure out hers.

But that’s exactly what got me into this mess, letting work take over my life, letting distance grow between me and the people I care about, until all I had left was a hollowed-out version of what I thought my life should be.

And now here I am again, on the edge of something I can’t name, something that feels good in a way I haven’t let myself feel in a long time.

I head down the trail toward the ski rental shop in the lower level of the hotel, trying to clear my head. The lodge is bustling with guests—families putting on snow gear, kids dragging their parents toward the slopes, and couples laughing over shared cups of hot chocolate. It’s the kind of scene that should feel warm because it’s exactly why I came here in the first place, but today it only makes the emptiness stand out more. I should be here with Ellie, showing her how to ski, watching her face light up at her first run down the bunny hill. Instead, she’s a thousand miles away,and I’m stuck in this villa, tangled up in feelings I shouldn’t be having.

I walk aimlessly for a while, the cold air sharp against my cheeks, until I find myself back in the room. I hesitate at the door, half hoping Clara will still be in her room, that I can avoid whatever conversation we’re bound to have.

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