Misbooked for Love

Chapter 15

15

CLARA

The morning light seeps through the cracks in the curtains, painting soft lines across the bed and illuminating the room in a hazy, golden glow. I blink against the brightness, my mind still foggy with the remnants of sleep and the warm weight of Tom’s arm draped over my waist. His breath is even, soft against the back of my neck, and for a moment, I let myself just lie there, sinking into the comfort of his presence.

This isn’t how I imagined waking up this morning. In fact, I didn’t imagine waking up next to him at all. But here we are, tangled up in each other, the sheets twisted around our legs like they’re trying to keep us from moving, from breaking whatever spell this is.

I shift slightly, trying not to wake him, but his arm tightens around me, pulling me closer, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my back. I close my eyes, biting back a smile. It feels good—too good—and that’s the part that scares me. I’ve been here before, in this space between hope and reality, and I’ve been burned more times than I can count.

But Tom isn’t like the others. He’s different. I knew that from the first moment he offered me coffee in the kitchen, his asshole exterior hiding something softer, something real. And last night, when he looked at me like I was the only person in the world, I believed it. I believed him.

I turn in his arms, careful not to disturb him, and find myself face-to-face with a version of Tom I haven’t seen before—soft, unguarded, still asleep with his hair a tousled mess and his stubble shadowing his jaw. He looks younger like this, all the worries and stress smoothed out, and it hits me just how vulnerable this moment is, sharing this space with me.

I reach out, my fingers tracing the curve of his cheek, and his eyes flutter open, sleepy and unfocused. For a second, he just blinks at me, like he’s not quite sure if I’m real or if he’s still dreaming, and then his lips curl into a slow, lazy smile.

“Hey,” he says, his voice thick with sleep, and there’s something so endearing about the way he says it, like it’s the first word he’s ever spoken.

“Hey,” I whisper back, my thumb brushing over his bottom lip. “Did you sleep okay?”

He nods, stretching like a contented cat, his muscles rippling under the sheets. “Yeah. Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“Same,” I admit, and it’s the truth. “And this coming from a flight attendant that is regularly sleep deprived and can, almost literally, fall asleep anywhere.”

I look at him, my eyes moving to study his face in the early morning light. I can’t remember the last time I felt this at ease, this…safe. It’s a strange feeling, and I don’t know what to do with it.

Tom shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me, and his eyes are bright and curious. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” I bite my lip, feeling suddenly shy under his gaze. “Just…thinking.”

“About?” he prompts his thumb tracing idle circles on my hip.

I hesitate, chewing on my bottom lip as I try to find the right words. “This. What happens after.”

The questions hangs between us, heavy and unavoidable, and Tom’s smile fades, replaced by something more serious. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “This is… This is temporary, ri ght? We go back to our lives, and this is just a nice—super nice,” I say with a smile, “memory.”

Tom’s brow furrows, and he looks at me like he’s trying to figure something out, like he’s weighing his options. “It doesn’t have to be.”

My heart skips a beat, and I force myself to look away, my gaze fixed on the sliver of sunlight creeping across the floor. I wonder if he got up last night to close the blinds before we drifted off to sleep. “Tom, you have a life. A daughter. I’m just… I’m just a detour.”

“You’re not a detour,” he says, his voice firm, and I can feel his eyes on me, burning with intensity. “You’re not some pit stop on my way back to reality. You’re—” He pauses, struggling to find the words, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, more vulnerable. “Maybe you’re exactly what I didn’t know I needed.”

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest. “That’s sweet, but…”

“But?” He encourages, and there’s a hint of frustration there.

“But it’s not that simple. You’re a great guy, Tom, but we live in different worlds. And when this ends—because it has to end—I don’t want to be the girl who can’t let go.”

Tom reaches out, cupping my face in his hands, and I can see the determination in his eyes. “What if it doesn’t have to end? ”

I open my mouth to argue, to list all the reasons why this can’t work, but then he kisses me, slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to erase every doubt from my mind. And for a moment, it works. I melt into him, my hands tangling in his hair, and all the reasons not to do this fade into the background.

When he pulls back, his forehead resting against mine, he sighs. “Clara, I know it’s complicated. I know we’ve got a lot to figure out. But I’m willing to try if you are.”

I blink up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “And what does trying look like?”

He smiles, a little unsure, but there’s hope in his eyes. “I don’t know yet. But maybe we take it one day at a time. See where this goes.”

I nod, feeling something crack open inside me, something I’ve been trying to keep locked away for the past four years. “Okay,” I reply, “one day at a time.”

Tom grins, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

And before I can process his words, his lips are on mine again, and all thoughts of the future, of the complications, of the real world evaporate into the background as we lose ourselves in each other. His hands roam my body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and dip, and I can feel the heat between my legs, the desire that has been simmering between us for a while now .

Tom’s hands slip under my t-shirt, his fingers skimming over my skin, goosebumps erupting in their wake. I can feel my nipples hardening, eager for his touch, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this turned on. His mouth trails down my jaw, his tongue skating over my collarbone, and I can’t help but arch into his touch, aching for more.

“Tom,” I gasp, my voice ragged with need. His response is a growl of approval as he continues moving his hands, his fingers slipping into my shorts, seeking out my clit.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he mumbles against my neck, and I blush, but I can’t bring myself to care. All I can focus on is the feel of his talented fingers, the way they know exactly where to touch, exactly how to send me spiraling over the edge.

“Condom,” I manage to gasp, my brain foggy with lust. “In my—” He silences me with a kiss, his fingers continuing their relentless pressure as he reaches for the floor on my side of the bed, grabbing his discarded pants from the floor.

“Got it,” he says, and a moment later, he’s back, foil packet in hand, and I can only whimper my approval as he removes my shorts and covers my body with his.

He’s slow at first, easing himself inside me, his eyes never leaving mine. “You okay?” he pants, and I nod, my walls clenching around him, trying to draw him in further. “Good,” he says, his voice strained, “because I can’t get enough.”

And then he’s moving, his hips a blur as he picks up the pace, driving deep inside me, over and over again.

I can feel the pleasure building, coiling low in my belly, and I know it won’t be long. “Tom,” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders, and with a final, animalistic growl, he picks up the pace even more, his hands on my hips, guiding us towards the edge.

“Me, too,” he grunts, and his movements become more frantic, his hips slamming into mine with a force that threatens to send me over the edge of the bed. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“So you’ve said,” I barely make out, giving him a cheeky smile that doesn’t last long, because just then, my world explodes, stars behind my eyelids as my climax washes over me, intense and all-consuming. Tom’s name is on my lips as I come undone, and a moment later, I feel him stiffen, his body tensing as he joins me.

We stay like that for a moment, panting, our bodies entwined, until Tom finally collapses on top of me, his chest heaving. He presses a quick kiss to my temple, and I let myself sink into the moment with this man, yet again.