Page 12 of If This Was a Movie

“Is that the only time?” he asks, his voice low now, his eyes locked to my lips.

I shake my head, and when I speak, my words come out breathy. “No, you’d definitely kiss me a lot.”

He gives me a boyish smile before lifting my hand to his face, pressing his lips to the bandage on my hand before repeating it on the other. Then his hand slides up my arm until it’s on my neck, his thumb tipping my chin up as he leans down to press his lips to mine.

I wake up in a strange bed, but it doesn’t feel strange at all: strong arms wrapped around my middle, a scruffy chin in my neck, and soft, warm breaths running along my skin.

It doesn’t take long before it all comes back to me: meeting Nate at the bar, feeling a spark I couldn’t deny, going home with him, falling and him bandaging me up, the multiple orgasms…

And now I’m wrapped in his arms in his bed, his breathing low and easy and comfortable.

I’ve slept with men, of course, and had long-term boyfriends and short flings where I’d spend the night, but I’ve never been able to sleep with someone touching me. I need space to sprawl, and I get way too hot, way too easily. I’ve always assumed when I finally found my dream man, we’d have one of those two-bed marriages in order to not go insane from lack of quality sleep.

Except I just woke up easy, feeling more rested than I ever have in my life, and there’s a warm body wrapped around me. We’re not just sleeping together, but sleeping intertwined.

The beating of my heart picks up just a bit, and for the first time in my life, I wonder if I’ve finally found it: my silver-screen worthy match, the person I was meant to be with.

Ever since I watchedMy Big Fat Greek Weddingat much too young an age, I saw a part of myself in Toula, in her bone-deep desire to find true love. It started my addiction to romance movies, and I watched every single one I could get my hands on.

I fell in love with the idea of love and told myself I’d only let myself fall when I met him—the one people wrote books and made movies about.

Over the years, I began to lose faith it would happen. How on earth could I find some kind of fictional soulmate naturally? Or even worse, on dating apps? Have you seen some of the men on dating apps? It's not even close to leading-man material.

But now…now things feel like they are clicking into place. Like maybe, finally, some goddess of love smiled down on me and decided I deserved even just the barest glimmer of hope, pushing me into that bar to…Nate, maybe?

As I lose myself in my thoughts, Nate shifts, quietly waking before pressing a kiss to the place where my neck meets my shoulder. “Morning,” he whispers there, sleepiness in the word.

A chill runs through me, a bolt of excitement, and right there, I decide this is it. This is my chance to fall and fall hard, and I’m going to take it and trust in it.

“Good morning.” I shift my body, turning until we’re face-to-face, and then I see that it’s not just his voice filled with sleep but his face. He still looks handsome, just a bit groggy, and his lips are tipped upwards with a smile. “Happy New Year.”

“Can’t think of a better way to start my year than this,” he says. He moves up onto an elbow, looking behind me at a window facing the backyard, and then chuckles, the feel of it vibrating through me.

I hum in agreement, my hand lifting and drawing shapes on his chest, the fine dusting of hair there tickling my finger. God, he has a good fucking chest, doesn’t he?

“Snowed in,” he says, voice rough.

My head perks up, but his eyes are still on the window. “Hmm?”

“We’re snowed in. At least a good foot dropped overnight.” He looks down at me finally. “Maybe this really is a movie after all.”

“No way?” His lips tip up at the corner with a smile. “There wasn’t snow in the forecast, was there?” I’m absolutely terrible at keeping track, and I’m usually only up to speed about the weather when the parents of a class start calling and texting me to see if class is canceled.

“No, but there’s definitely snow out there.” He pauses before continuing. “I think it’s still coming down, actually. Looks like you’re stuck here for a bit longer.”

Without warning, nerves and overthinking kick in because what if that’s a bad thing? What if I’m just in a delusional bubblethinking he’s some kind of miracle sent from the universe, and he was thinking this was just a one-night stand? What if he was hoping I’d leave first thing in the morning, and now he’s stuck with me? What if?—

My mind continues to fall down a rabbit hole, and I must show it on my face because Nate quickly speaks, changing directions.

“Unless you don’t want to be here, then I’ve got a truck. I can get you home. It might take a bit since I’m not sure which roads are plowed. I didn’t put the plow blade on my truck, but I could probably get to the garage to dig it out.” His hand moves, pushing my hair back and over my shoulder before looking into my eyes, genuine concern on his face. “I don’t want you to feel actually stuck here.”

“I don’t,” I say quickly, then feel the need to explain. “But I also don’t want you to be stuck with me.”

“Not much I’d rather be doing than being stuck inside for a snow day with you.”

“Oh,” I say, warmth running through me.

“Yeah, oh.” His head dips down, gently pressing his lips to mine, and even though I desperately want to continue that, to take it further, all my mind can think about is morning breath. He pulls back and smiles, and I wonder if he can read my thoughts somehow. “How about I roll out of here, leave you to wake up, and then when you’re ready, you shuffle out to the kitchen for coffee? How do you like it?”

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