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THE SILENCE BETWEEN US
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2025-08-13 17:06:10
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BORROWED LOVE ON ICE SCARS YOU CAN'T SEE
MELISSA'S POV When I got back home, the first thing I told myself was to forget about what I overheard earlier at the studio.It’s none of my business. I’m probably just overthinking.That’s what I decided. And once I made that decision, I was determined to stick to it.I dropped my bag on the couch, brushed my hair back, and grabbed my little notepad from the coffee table. If I didn’t make a to-do list, the whole day would slip away from me, and I didn’t have the luxury of wasting time right now.First thing on the list: Call my designer to confirm when I could come in for my final fittings.Second: Review old Miss England competitions — the interviews, the walks, the talent rounds — everything.Two weeks. That’s all I had. Two weeks before I would step on that stage and face every single person who thought I wouldn’t make it this far. Two weeks to prove to myself that I could stand in that spotlight and not break.I flopped onto the couch and pulled up YouTube on my laptop, searchi
BORROWED LOVE ON ICE MAKE WHAT WORK?
MELISSA’S POVWhere the hell is my purse?I stood in the middle of my bedroom, both hands on my hips, scanning the mess I’d just made. Drawers yanked open, clothes spilling out, my blanket tossed on the floor. It looked like a robbery had happened — except the thief was me.“My toiletries are almost gone,” I muttered, raking my fingers through my hair. “I just need to go shopping. That’s it. One simple trip. Why is this so hard?”I’d planned it perfectly. Wake up, shower, grab my purse, head to the supermarket, and maybe treat myself to a coffee after. But apparently the universe had decided my Saturday would be anything but simple.I dropped to my knees, peering under the bed. “Nothing.” I crawled toward the dresser. “Still nothing.”The more I looked, the more annoyed I got.Wait.I froze, my brain rewinding like an old tape. The last time I used my purse — really used it — was the day of the shoot. I could see it in my mind: the changing room, the chaos, me digging into it for my p
BORROWED LOVE ON ICE THE STORM I CAN'T SHAKE
XAVIER’S POVThe windshield wipers moved in a slow, steady rhythm as I drove through the wet streets. Raindrops kept tapping against the glass, blurring the streetlights into glowing orbs. My hands were on the steering wheel, but my mind wasn’t really on the road.It was still stuck in that studio.That damn shoot.Her face, the way her lips parted slightly in surprise when Marco mentioned the kiss. The faint flush in her cheeks. I could still feel the ghost of her warmth from when I’d held her close.I’d been through countless shoots before—this was nothing new. Models. Actors. Touching, posing, even fake kissing. I’d mastered the art of looking detached, of making it seem like it was all just business. But with her? It didn’t feel like business. It felt… personal.And I hated that.It took everything in me to keep a poker face in front of her. If I let even a fraction of what I was feeling show, I knew she’d see right through me. And I couldn’t have that.The thing is, she looked li
BORROWED LOVE ON ICE THE SILENCE BETWEEN US
MELISSA’S POVThe ride home was quiet, painfully quiet.Not the comfortable kind, where you could sink into the silence and let it cradle you like a soft blanket. No. This was the kind that felt like you were both sitting on opposite ends of a seesaw, waiting for one of you to make the first move—only no one did.I sat with my arms crossed, staring out the window at the gray sky, pretending to be fascinated by the raindrops starting to collect on the glass. The steady thrum of the engine filled the space between us. Every so often, I’d sneak a glance at Xavier out of the corner of my eye. His jaw was tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel just a little too firmly, like he was trying not to think about something.And me? I didn’t even know what I’d say if I did open my mouth.What could I possibly say? "Nice photos today"? That sounded ridiculous. "Sorry for being weird"? That would open a door I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk through.So, instead, I sat there, letting the sil
BORROWED LOVE ON ICE ONE BREATH AWAY
MELISSA’S POVThe phone call from Marco the previous morning had been short and upbeat, the way he always sounded when he was organizing something big.“Melissa,” he’d said, his voice carrying that familiar enthusiasm, “tomorrow’s shoot is important. It’s going to be different from the usual—more emotion, more connection. You’ll do great. Just be at the studio at 9am..,okay?”I’d agreed without thinking too much of it, because honestly, my brain was still tangled up in what had happened with Xavier. Every time I replayed it in my head, my chest tightened and my stomach twisted and the last text he sent. I hadn't even bothered to reply it. Even when I tried to sleep, my mind wouldn’t stop flashing back to the way his voice had sounded, the way he’d looked at me.By morning, I’d told myself I’d push it aside. Professional. That’s all I had to be.When I arrived at the studio, the familiar smell of coffee and camera equipment hit me. The place was already buzzing—photographers adjustin
BORROWED LOVE ON ICE LINES I SHOULDN'T HAVE CROSSED
XAVIER’S POVThe door clicked shut behind her, and for a moment, I just stood there staring at the empty space she’d been standing in seconds ago. My heart was still hammering in my chest, my palms clammy, and my mind… well, my mind felt like it had been tossed into a blender.“What the hell just happened?” I muttered under my breath, dragging a hand through my hair.My living room felt smaller somehow, like the air had been sucked out. I replayed the whole scene in my head—her showing up at my door, eyes sharp, her voice calm but charged, asking me why I’d been so distant. And then… God help me… me blurting out that I liked her.I leaned against the wall and let out a low groan.“Xavier, are you crazy? What was that for?” I scolded myself. “She’s Katrina’s sister, for crying out loud.”I paced the room, my socks sliding a little against the wooden floor. My stomach felt knotted, the kind of knot that didn’t come from hunger but from something deeper, messier. I knew I’d crossed a lin
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