Page 14 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Sophia

Embarrassed. Angry. Still frustratingly turned on.

I let the steam curl around me as the warm water beat against my skin in my shower.

The way the hotel room came alive under his gaze, how the air seemed to charge when he looked at me—it clung to me now.

The way he unraveled me with the faintest touch.

I’ve felt attraction before—the jolt that tightens your core, the heat that rises beneath your skin like a fever.

But this?

This wasn’t just a jolt—it was untamable lightning. Not just heat—it was magma, still burning inside me long after I pushed him away.

I tried to clear my head, but the dizzy spell I was caught in wasn’t just spiraling—it was ricocheting.

And as it ricocheted, the heat he ignited—every emotion sparked by 1B lit a fuse inside me, bounced around like wildfire—burning everything it touched.

I needed to pull myself together, though. Devyn would be here soon to pick me up for our shift at Boomer’s.

I turned off the water and wrapped my body in a towel. I stared at myself in the mirror, fogged around the edges from the steam of my hot-as-my-apartment-allowed shower.

It was Saturday night, the busiest night of the week, and Boomer’s wasn’t just the largest bar and restaurant in town.

It was the spot .

This time of year always brought an influx of tourists, a lot of repeat visitors, and a few retirees searching for that off-the-beaten-path kind of vacation.

Misty Springs was tailor-made for autumn, with its vibrant cascade of fall leaves, charming local shops offering unique trinkets and boutique clothing, and cozy coffee houses and restaurants that served surprisingly indulgent food and drinks.

We were a quiet little gem, a well-kept secret that drew in those curious enough to explore beyond the usual destinations.

Despite my best efforts, my mind drifted back to Mr. Business-Not-Pleasure-Asshat, AKA 1B.

Thankfully, I caught up with Pam before she found anyone to share her suspicions with and convinced her that whatever she thought she saw was nothing.

It was nothing, right?

The way my emotions were colliding with each other right now, I couldn’t be sure.

My phone dinged.

Devyn: Be there in ten.

I dressed quickly in one of my obnoxious Boomer’s slogan V-necks. A small Boomer’s logo was scribbled near my chest, but the back read in large block letters, “Ask me about Boomer’s sauce—it’s explosive.”

I pulled on my jeans and gathered my towel-dried hair in a high ponytail.

Devyn and I had tested it before—the high pony earned us the most tips. I tended to go a bit heavier on the makeup—a little blush, mascara, and eyeliner to make my eyes pop, and I was ready to go.

Two quick horn blasts sounded from outside. Recognizing Devyn’s trademark “I’m here” beeps, I grabbed my black jacket, making a mental note to finally wash the damn thing tomorrow, and headed outside to Devyn’s waiting car.

“Hey, you!” Devyn greeted me as I sank into the passenger seat.

I had a bone to pick with Devyn—with all my friends. “Hey.”

“Oh no, who did it? Who do I need to stab?” she asked, obviously picking up on my deflated tone .

I ignored her usual flair for dramatic threats and pushed forward. I’d rehearsed this in between thoughts of 1B—but now that I was face to face with her, my stomach turned.

I hated confrontation. Even with Dev. Especially with Dev. With anyone, really.

“I have to ask… Did you post that Tinder profile?” I tried to sound calm, but 1B’s accusations were still echoing in my ears.

Devyn’s face turned guilty, and she winced as she looked at me. “Well, I actually had kina sorta… already done it before you even saw it.”

“Devyn!” I threw my head back in my seat.

“I’m sorry! I thought I would find you a nice guy to date before you even got back from Phoenix. Then, you wouldn’t even have a chance to be mad about it because it already worked out for you!”

I sighed, but my mouth pulled up at the corners. My friends could be intrusive, but they always meant well. Whether I needed rides, consoling, or a job to make ends meet, they’ve had to rearrange their lives—just because I couldn’t keep mine on track.

“Well? Did you find me a date?” I turned my head to look at her, opening one eye.

She shook her head. “No. I only got a few disturbing messages and a lot of dick pics. Like an obscene amount. Sam was mad at first, then we made a game out of it.”

I chuckled, shaking my head back and forth. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Sorry, Soph. I’ll take it down. I was just trying to help you get back on the horse. You know, reverse-cowgirl,” she said as she put the car in drive.

I let out a sharp laugh. “Thanks, Dev. I know you all were just trying to help.”

Despite my friend's best intentions, a new guy was not the solution to my problems. What I needed was to get my life back on track—a track I’d already derailed from before Landon even entered the picture.

The first deviation from my course happened when I lost my parents. The devastation of their abrupt passing consumed me, distracting me to the point where I dropped out of Brown with just one semester left of my literary arts degree—my heart and my dreams both shattering into tiny pieces .

Landon popped into my life soon after.

The timing of his family’s move to Misty Springs and our chance encounter during my shift at Boomer’s felt like kismet, as if fate were pulling us together.

My heart was too weak, my soul too desperate for something good, that I mistook coincidence for fate, and manipulation for love.

We moved fast—the pieces of my broken heart fitting too easily in his grasp.

His parents offered me a job at their real estate firm, allowing me to cut back on my hours at Boomer’s.

He bought a house and asked me to move in with him.

I thought he was mending my broken pieces and stitching them together one by one.

But I didn’t notice how, with every stitch, he wasn’t repairing me—he was reshaping me. Little by little, he morphed me into the version he thought I should be until I didn’t recognize who I was anymore.

It wasn't until he delivered the crushing blow—feeding me pretty lies about love and forever, all while cheating behind my back—that I finally admitted to myself what an epic mistake Landon Norwood was.

“How long has it been since you, uh, you know?” Devyn whistled and swirled a finger above my lap, breaking my silent thoughts.

“Dev!” I playfully batted her hand away. She alternated between staring at the road and me, her face set in anticipation.

I rolled my eyes. “Too long. Since Landon,” I admitted.

“I am not talking about sex, obviously. I know that you haven’t had sex. You would be in serious trouble if you got laid and didn’t tell me.” She navigated into a tiny parking spot in the gravel lot behind Boomer's. “I mean, taking care of yourself.”

“Oh my—Devyn, come on.” My cheeks heated as I recalled how close I was to taking care of myself minutes earlier in my shower.

“What? I’m advocating for your health here. How are you supposed to move on if you’re carrying around all that... tension? It’s like science or something.”

I threw my bag over my shoulder and climbed out of her car.

Devyn quickly jumped out and skipped beside me .

I slung my arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “You’re ridiculous, but I love you.”

I love you too, chica,” she replied, wrapping her arm around my waist, squeezing briefly before letting out a long, knowing sigh.

The hum of laughter and clinking glasses seeped through the propped-open doors, and the sight of the crowded lot out front confirmed it—this was going to be one of those nights.

One of those nights where the hours blurred together, the bar never seemed stocked enough, and you found yourself running purely on adrenaline, laughter, and a dash of chaos. But for now, the moment was ours—a small, unspoken comfort in the arms of someone who always had my back, no matter what.

***

The night was going great. The perfect flow of patrons left me pleasantly busy, but not so busy that I felt flustered. I already had enough tip money to pay my electric and phone bills.

I was filling a beer glass from the tap, bopping my head to the music playing overhead, letting it drown out my thoughts, when my gaze flicked to a new customer who had sidled up to the bar.

My body froze.

There he was, in the flesh—no longer a painful memory or a simple text I could ignore.

Landon Norwood.

For a moment, the clamor of Boomer's dulled to a distant hum, my vision tunneling.

He was leaning casually against the bar, that same disarming smile on his lips—the one that used to make me feel safe but now only made my stomach churn.

His gaze zeroed in on me.

Cold beer dribbled down my hand as the cup I was filling overflowed with my distraction. I flung it off, wiping the rest on the apron tied around my waist.

The man who ordered the beer looked disgruntled when I set the too-full glass in front of him. He must have seen something in my face because he said nothing as he carefully lifted it to his lips.

Gripping the bar's edge to steady myself, I tried to summon the walls I thought I’d already built between Landon and me. But they wavered, threatening to collapse entirely under the weight of his presence .

"Hey, babe." His voice somehow carried over the noise. Smooth and familiar, like a hand curling around my wrist, tugging me back to a place I swore I’d never return.

“You’ ve been ignoring me.”