13. Macey/Noah
MACEY/NOAH
Macey
I had never been more happy that I requested four different coffees in our breakfast orders. Granted, I never had an opportunity to request breakfast via room service, let alone not to get weird looks when I asked for a latte, cappuccino, drip coffee, and a mocha.
Today? I’d take every caffeine boost I could get.
I hardly slept last night, too busy replaying the moment Noah and I kissed. For real.
God, what was wrong with me? What wasn’t wrong would be the better question. I couldn’t deny that my feelings for Noah had grown complicated, to say the least. I was attracted to him. Would probably jump into bed with him if there were no repercussions.
But oh, would there be repercussions.
Noah had referred to our pool kiss as a mistake.
Then later, on the boat, he claimed our first kiss shouldn’t have been for show like that.
In hindsight, a kiss for show was a terrible idea—I should know by now that photographs lived forever on the Internet—but it was necessary to convince people we were dating.
Because we were not dating.
We were just two people forced to pretend to date due to a series of extremely unlikely circumstances. Compared to what, Macey, couples who fake date for fun?
This wasn’t a rom-com movie with a romantic montage at the halfway point.
This wasn’t a romance book, where the reader would discover he loved her all along !
This was reality. Writing and influencing weren’t for the faint of hearts.
Things weren’t going to get magical now that I suddenly had a crush.
At the end of this weekend, things would go back to normal. We’d stop posting about each other on social media long enough for people to assume that we separated, and then Noah and I could go back to ignoring each other in public. Excellent plan—10/10 stars.
Then why did I feel sick thinking about it?
I was halfway through my second coffee, already dressed for the day, when Noah bustled out of the bedroom. Of course he didn’t look sleep-deprived like me. Probably dreamed of cats chasing rainbows or something.
He was dressed casually, in a lightweight linen button-down with the sleeves lazily rolled to his elbows, the fabric just barely clinging to the shape of his arms. A pair of well-worn khaki shorts hung low on his hips, and he’d swapped his usual sneakers for simple leather sandals.
The kind of effortless, I just threw this on look that made it painfully obvious he belonged at a resort like this.
Unfair. I might have a cute white dress on, but I looked like I’d barely survived the night. The bun at the top of my head agreed with me. Meanwhile, he looked like a postcard .
Noah reached for one of the mugs, his fingers curling around the ceramic like it was the only thing grounding him. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” My voice came out stiff, forced. Just act normal. I reached for my own coffee, determined not to let awkwardness win. “How did you sleep?”
“Good.” He took a sip and set the mug down on the table. “You?”
“Fine,” I lied.
Noah nodded, and an uncomfortable silence settled between us, thick and suffocating. The weight of last night pressed into my chest, the memory of his lips on mine lingering like a phantom touch. Were we really just going to stand here, pretending it never happened?
He pulled out the itinerary for the day, flipping through it with unnecessary focus. I eyed the paper, willing it to say anything that might distract me. Honestly, they could send me to chase down gorillas for all I cared, if it meant I didn’t have to survive another couple’s massage.
The only big thing I’d have to survive today was the cooking class. Great. As if my culinary skills weren’t already humiliating enough, now I had to endure them in front of him.
I tapped my fingers against the counter, the tension between us stretching like a rubber band, ready to snap. When it became clear Noah wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence, I did.
“I can’t just pretend to ignore what happened last night.” I folded my arms across my chest, bracing myself. “What were you thinking?”
His fingers tightened around the edges of the itinerary. “What was I thinking?” His tone was sharp, incredulous. “You were there, too.”
“I’ll admit the kiss by the pool was my fault, but you were the one who kissed me last night.”
His jaw dropped as he let out a silent laugh, shaking his head. “No way. If anything, we both leaned in. We were both just going with the mood.”
I scoffed. “The mood ? If there was a mood, you completely misread it.”
He quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s funny because your reaction sure didn’t say that.”
Heat rushed to my face. I stiffened, suddenly hyper-aware of how my body had melted into his, how I had kissed him back, how I had wanted to in the moment. But that didn’t matter. Because it was just a moment.
“Well,” I said coldly, “maybe all your time spent pushing people away has made it difficult for you to understand real people’s signals.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I’d hit a nerve.
His expression shut down, amusement vanishing in an instant. His grip on the itinerary crumpled the paper slightly, but his voice, when he spoke, was eerily calm.
“That’s rich,” he said, eyes burning into mine. “Coming from you.”
My stomach twisted, but I lifted my chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Noah let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You know exactly what it means. Don’t act like you have me all figured out. Because we both know you kissed me back.”
My heart pounded. “That doesn’t mean it meant anything.”
His jaw clenched. For a second, I thought he might say something else, something that would push this over the edge. Instead, he exhaled, shaking his head like I wasn’t even worth the fight anymore.
“You know what?” He grabbed his coffee and stepped back. “Forget it.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements stiff with barely contained frustration.
“Noah—”
But he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
And just like that, I was left alone in the kitchen, my pulse racing, the ghost of last night’s kiss lingering on my lips.
After spending a few minutes collecting myself—read: chugging the rest of the coffee and banging my head against the wall—I headed downstairs myself.
Sure, getting into something romantic with Noah was a bad idea, but I had taken it too far.
It wasn’t fair of me to use information he told me in confidence against him like that.
When I didn’t immediately spot Noah, panic set in. What if he ran off the property? What if he’s livestreaming our breakup somewhere?
I checked the watch around my wrist. It was almost time for the garden tour, so he was likely…by the gardens.
This resort was way too huge. I pushed through a set of doors, only to be greeted by an empty hallway. Wrong exit. Again. By the time I finally stepped outside, the heat was already sinking into my skin, and I spotted him in the distance.
Thank God he was tall—he stood over all the other press team members nearby like a damn lighthouse.
“Noah, thank God I found you,” I said, huffing as I rushed up to him. “Listen, I?—”
“Thank you all for joining us for our tour this morning of the gardens!” a bright, cheerful voice cut in.
Fucking Jennifer.
“We are going to get started now, so if I could have your undivided attention, please.”
Noah didn’t even look at me.
I clenched my jaw as the group moved forward, following Jennifer through the perfectly manicured pathways of the resort’s sprawling gardens.
I tried to focus—really, I did. There were so many plants I didn’t recognize, some with big, waxy leaves, others with tiny, delicate petals that looked straight out of a fairy tale.
Jennifer rattled off names I’d never heard before, something about sustainable gardening practices, something else about native flora…
I couldn’t care less.
Because the entire time, I was only aware of him .
Noah walked just a few feet ahead of me, hands shoved into his pockets, his broad shoulders tense. He was ignoring me, fully committed to acting like I didn’t exist.
Every time I stepped a little closer, every time I opened my mouth to say anything, he shifted just slightly, positioning himself so he was always just out of reach.
By the time we made it to the orchid house, I was ready to grab him by the arm and force him to talk to me. But just as I reached for him, he turned, finally meeting my eyes.
For a split second, hope flickered in my chest.
And then?—
“My favorite couple! How did you enjoy the tour?”
I nearly jumped. So focused on Noah, I hadn’t even noticed that the tour had ended, the group already dispersing into smaller clusters, chatting about flowers and sustainable gardening.
I inhaled deeply, trying to find my inner Zen. You are calm. You are composed. You are not going to strangle Jennifer.
“It was lovely,” I said, forcing a smile. “Thank you for the tour, Jennifer.”
“Wonderful!” She beamed, clearly thrilled to have done her part in making us more connected to nature. “I just wanted to point you two in the direction of the cooking class. It’s a straight shot down this path. You can’t miss it. ”
“Thank you,” Noah said, flashing her one of those polite smiles that came so easily to him, the kind that felt effortless but held no real warmth.
“I’ll see you both later!” Jennifer waved as she headed off, leaving us alone again.
We walked down the path in silence, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. I glanced at him once, twice, trying to gauge if his posture had softened at all.
It hadn’t.
Outside the hut where the cooking class was held, I reached out, grabbing his forearm. “Noah.”
He stopped but didn’t look at me.
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out before I lost my nerve. “I’m sorry for what I said. I went too far.”