บททั้งหมดของ BORROWED LOVE ON ICE : บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

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

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

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

XAVIER’S POV The ringtone cut through the stillness of my bedroom, loud and insistent. My eyes blinked open reluctantly, the early morning light spilling weakly through the half-closed blinds. I groaned, rolling over to grab my phone from the nightstand. The name on the screen—Marco—made me frown. Marco wasn’t the type to call me this early unless it was important. Or bad. Mostly bad. I swiped to answer, my voice still thick with sleep. “Yeah?” What hit me wasn’t a casual good morning, or his usual upbeat energy. No. His voice came through the line like a punch to the gut—sharp, frantic, already climbing in volume. “Xavier—what the hell?! Where were you yesterday?” I froze, staring at the ceiling like maybe it would offer me a clue. Yesterday? What about it? “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice caught somewhere between confusion and irritation. I wasn’t awake enough for whatever drama he was about to dump on me. “What am I talking about? What am I talking about?!”

MELISSA’S POVWhat’s all this scandal about?How… how could I possibly be tangled in a mess I wasn’t even involved in? I wasn’t there. I didn’t do anything. I’ve been minding my business, preparing for Miss England, pouring everything into my dream—and yet here I am, watching my name burn on the internet like dry paper.What now?I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know this—this is not good.Not for me, not for my image, not for everything I’ve built these past years.This mess… this scandal… it has to die down. It has to. I can’t let it breathe long enough to choke me completely.But the comments—God, the comments—They were like knives, stabbing in quick succession.Every new one that popped up was worse than the last.The last video I stumbled across was from some girl with too much makeup and a voice that dripped with fake concern. She tilted her head and smirked into the camera while saying, “Well, if you ask me, she probably slept her way to the top.”I felt my chest tig