Chapter 202

Chapter 202
It wasn’t one of those planned kisses. Oh no. It was clumsy, messy, shocking. But his mouth was warm, my eyes flew wide, and I felt the world tilt beneath me.

And then—

“OOOOHHHHHHH!”

The family screamed. Cheered. Whistled. Someone actually clapped.

I shoved him back like he was on fire, my face hotter than the Texas sun. “YOU—YOU—”

Nathaniel just smirked, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt, voice smooth as sin. “Well, darling… looks like you kissed me this time.”

From the balcony, Lara shouted, “Finally!”

I wanted to die.

Right there, under the wide Texas sky, in front of his entire family. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Instead, I stood there, trembling with rage—or was it something else?—while Nathaniel grinned like the devil himself, already savoring the memory.

And the family? They went back to their pancakes like they’d just watched the best episode of a soap opera.

Nathaniel POV

The accidental kiss was… yeah. Amazing. Shocking, but amazing. Her lips were softer than I ever let myself imagine, her eyes wide like I’d just stolen the last cookie in the jar, and the heat that shot through me—damn. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but hell if I wasn’t going to replay it a thousand times in my head.

Aya, of course, reacted exactly as expected: red-faced, glaring like she was about to set me on fire with sheer fury alone. She bolted back into the ranch house like the devil was at her heels.

The balcony chorus, however, was still going strong.
“That’s our boy!” my mom cheered.
“About damn time!” Lara shouted, smirking like she orchestrated the whole thing.
The cousins whistled like we’d just pulled off the grand finale of the Fourth of July fireworks.

I tipped an imaginary hat their way. “Glad y’all enjoyed the show.”

Then I followed Aya inside. Obviously.

She was halfway through the living room, muttering under her breath about murder, Texas, and “never again” when I caught up. I leaned against the doorway, hands in my pockets, watching her pace like a furious kitten.

“Ah, come on now, Aya,” I drawled, unable to stop my grin. “Don’t be cute. I might fall for you.”

Her head snapped toward me so fast I thought she’d break her neck. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

I raised a brow, cocking my head just enough to push her buttons. “What? You’re saying that wasn’t the most romantic movie moment of all time? Falling into my arms, lips colliding, family cheering? Hell, even Hollywood couldn’t script that better.”

She jabbed a finger at me, cheeks flaming. “It was an accident!”

“Mm-hm.” I smirked. “Funny how your lips didn’t pull away right away, though.”

Her jaw dropped. “I WAS IN SHOCK!”

“Exactly.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Shocked by how good it felt.”

She made this strangled, furious noise—half-growl, half-moan—and shoved past me toward the kitchen. I followed, because of course I did.

Every time she tried to shake me off, I leaned down just enough to murmur in her ear. “You blushed.”
“Shut up, Lisbon.”
“You’re still blushing.”
“SHUT. UP.”

By the time we reached the kitchen, she looked about two seconds away from grabbing the frying pan and hurling it at my head.

And yet, even as she turned her back, muttering about tea, I couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Because I knew.

Accident or not… that kiss wasn’t leaving her head anytime soon either.

But.

I knew she was two ticks away from combusting, but Lord, she was entertaining when she spiraled. Aya was pacing in my mom’s kitchen like the floor tiles had personally betrayed her, muttering about “pretend relationships” and “never again” while grabbing the kettle with all the fury of a woman about to declare war.

I leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching her storm around in that cute little rage. “You know, for a fake girlfriend, you sure are working overtime blushing like a real one.”

She froze mid-spoon clatter, turned, and gave me a glare sharp enough to slice bread. “One more word, Lisbon, and I will pour this boiling water on your smug face.”

I grinned and reached for the coffee pot instead. “Relax, darling. No need to commit a crime before breakfast.” I poured myself another cup, slow as molasses, just to watch her roll her eyes. Then I tipped the mug in her direction. “Coffee?”

“No,” she snapped, shoving a teabag into her cup like she was stabbing it.

“Suit yourself.” I took a long sip, sighing dramatically. “Mmm. Nothing like a fresh cup after an accidental kiss.”

The spoon in her hand clattered into the sink. She turned, pointing at me like she was about to summon divine lightning. “I swear—”

But then it happened.

She opened the pantry to grab sugar, and out of nowhere, this tiny little garden snake slithered lazily from the bottom shelf.

I didn’t even think. I yelped. Not a manly grunt, not a calm “oh look”—a full-on yelp. Like a kicked dog. I stumbled back, nearly knocking over my mom’s flour jar.

Aya froze. Blinked once. Twice. Then she burst out laughing.

And not a polite little giggle either. No—she doubled over, clutching her stomach, tears forming in her eyes as she wheezed. “Oh—my—god—you—” She tried to breathe, pointing at me. “Lisbon! It’s the size of a shoelace!”

“Shoelace or not, that thing’s got fangs!” I said, hopping up onto the nearest chair like I was ten years old again. “Those suckers can kill you!”

Her laughter got louder. She leaned against the counter, red in the face, gasping for air. “It’s literally not poisonous!”

“How do you know?” I shot back, keeping my feet tucked up on the chair. “It could be Texas’ deadliest pantry snake!”

That did her in. She slid down the cabinets, sitting on the floor, completely losing it. Tears streaming, shoulders shaking, unable to even look at me without wheezing harder.

“Stop—oh god—stop talking—you’re killing me—” she gasped.