The Accidental kiss

Nathaniel's POV

I've always hated the rain.

There's something about it that feels... unnecessary. It ruins everything. My hair, my shoes, the way my perfectly pressed suit feels when it sticks to my skin. But more than that, it feels like a disruption.

And I can't stand disruptions.

Today was no exception. Another perfect deal had been sealed. The kind of deal that made everyone in the room look at me like I was some kind of business god. The kind where I didn't even break a sweat. I just sat there, nodded, and let them think I was some kind of genius.

I am, though.

No need to boast. I don't waste words. I never do.

After the meeting, I was already planning the next steps when I heard my assistant, James, clear his throat.

"Mr. Greyson, your car's ready."

I don't have to be told twice. I get up, adjusting my suit jacket with the same precision I use to handle my business. I don't need to look back, because I know they're still watching. Some of them look at me with envy. Others with fear. It's the kind of respect that comes with success.

But as I step outside into the city streets, I'm immediately annoyed by the chaos. People running everywhere, umbrellas flapping in the wind, everyone too busy to notice anything but themselves. It's like I'm walking through a sea of ignorance.

My car pulls up, sleek and black, and I slide into the backseat with ease. This is my escape. From everything. From them. From all the noise.

But before I can even settle into the leather seats, something happens.

I hear it first-a crash, followed by a string of hurried apologies. Then, before I can even process it, a woman is suddenly in front of me, falling right into my personal space.

She doesn't just bump into me. She slams into me.

Her body presses against mine, and in that moment, everything slows down. Her arms flail as she tries to catch herself, and I instinctively move to steady her. Her sketchpads hit the ground, scattered like confetti, and I can barely make sense of what just happened.

Then... she looks up.

And I freeze.

She's... ordinary, I guess. At first glance. She's not anything like the women I'm used to. Not like the models who throw themselves at me or the businesswomen who try to impress me. She's just... a mess. Her hair is sticking to her face, wet from the rain, and she's fumbling with her things like she's the least coordinated person on the planet.

But for some reason, I can't look away.

"Watch where you're going!" I snap, my voice a little sharper than I intend.

But it's too late. She's already apologizing, her cheeks turning bright red. Her hands are shaking as she gathers her things, and I watch her with a strange sense of... curiosity.

I don't like it.

I don't like the way my chest tightens or how my thoughts are running in circles.

And then it happens. The kiss.

Not even a real kiss. It's more like a quick collision of lips. I'm sure she didn't mean it. I didn't mean it either. But the moment it happened, I felt something. I'm not sure what.

I blink. Once. Twice.

"Just go," I say, my voice cold, though I don't know why it feels so tense. I turn away before I can even process the situation. I don't like how it's making me feel.

She's gone before I can even make sense of it. And I hate that my mind is stuck on her.

I don't even know her name.

But I'll be damned if I can get her out of my head.

Lila's POV

Great. Just great.

I had one job.

Actually, I had several jobs. I was supposed to finish this project, get to the bakery on time, and avoid spilling coffee on myself. I failed at all of them.

I'm running late, the rain's coming down harder than I expected, and my umbrella's practically useless at this point. But that's fine. I'll get to the bakery eventually. After all, it's just another day. I can handle it.

But of course, that's when it happens.

I'm not looking where I'm going-because I'm never really looking where I'm going. I'm always in my head, thinking about sketches, or something random like why people can't seem to walk straight in the rain.

So, naturally, I trip.

Crash.

I crash right into him.

I don't even see him at first. I just feel myself hit something hard-like a brick wall. But I'm not going to hit a wall. I'm going to hit a person. A person who, quite frankly, looks like he walked out of a magazine ad for some luxury watch or a high-end cologne.

He's all sharp angles and perfectly styled hair, and I'm standing there, feeling like I've just ruined his day. Maybe his week. Maybe his whole entire existence.

My brain is doing somersaults. My hands are shaking as I try to gather my things. My sketchpads are everywhere-sprawled out across the sidewalk like they have a life of their own. And then... then, I feel something weird.

His lips.

Not even a kiss, really. It was more like a weird, accidental touch. It wasn't my fault, I swear. But when our lips brushed, my heart stopped for a second. I don't know why, but it did.

Before I can even process it, he pulls back, and his voice is cold. "Watch where you're going."

I open my mouth to apologize again, but the words get stuck. My face is burning, and I'm still staring at him like an idiot.

"I'm so sorry," I manage, but it's barely a whisper.

I quickly bend down to pick up my things-sketchpads, pencils, everything is wet and crumpled-and I can't look at him. I'm sure he's annoyed. I'm sure I'm just some clumsy girl he'll forget about in five minutes.

And then, before I can do anything else, he's already turned away.

I stand there, my heart still pounding in my chest, and watch as he walks off. My head is a mess of confusion. I'm embarrassed, but... something about him won't leave my mind.

I mean, he looked at me for all of two seconds, but I could feel the way his eyes burned through me. It's like he could see straight into my soul. And I hate that it makes me feel... something.

I shake my head. "Get it together, Lila. You don't even know his name."

But I can't forget those eyes. Or the way my heart reacted.

And I hate myself for thinking that maybe, just maybe, I want to see him again.

Nathaniel's POV

I should've forgotten about her.

I should've gotten in my car, left, and never thought about it again. But for some reason, she's still in my head.

That kiss-or whatever it was-keeps replaying in my mind. It wasn't even a kiss. It was an accident, a slip. Nothing more.

But I can't stop seeing her.

Her messy hair, her nervous energy, the way she couldn't even gather her things without dropping them again. And that weird feeling I had when our lips-briefly-touched.

It's ridiculous.

I'm Nathaniel Greyson. I don't get distracted by random women.

But damn it, I can't stop thinking about her.

Lila's POV

The universe hates me.

That's the only explanation. Because how else do you explain waking up late, spilling coffee on yourself (again), and realizing you left your favorite pencil set at home-all on the same day?

It's fine, though. I'm fine. Totally fine.

Except I'm not. Because as I make my way to my part-time shift at the bookstore, I can't stop thinking about him.

The guy. The walking perfection. The man I practically body-slammed yesterday.

I replay the scene over and over in my head, cringing at every detail. The accidental kiss, the way he looked at me like I'd ruined his entire existence, and-ugh-the way I couldn't even form a complete sentence in front of him.

Why can't I stop thinking about him?

It's not like I'm into guys. Not really. Relationships just seem like... a hassle. I mean, who has the time? But for some reason, he's stuck in my brain like a bad pop song.

I shake my head as I step into the bookstore, determined to focus on work and not on tall, dark, and condescending.

The bookstore is quiet today, as usual. It's a small, cozy place tucked into a corner of the city, and I love it here. The smell of old books, the soft hum of background music-it's my escape.

I'm in the middle of shelving some new arrivals when the bell above the door jingles. I glance up out of habit, and my heart stops.

It's him.

The guy from yesterday.

What is he doing here?

He looks out of place among the shelves of worn paperbacks and secondhand classics. His sharp suit and cold expression practically scream, "I don't belong here."

I quickly duck behind the shelf, hoping he doesn't see me. My heart is racing again, and I can feel my cheeks heating up.

Why is he here? Is he following me? No, that's ridiculous. He doesn't even know me.

Still, I can't stop myself from peeking around the corner. He's standing by the counter, talking to my boss, Mrs. Winslow. His voice is low and smooth, and even though I can't hear what he's saying, I can tell he's annoyed about something.

Mrs. Winslow smiles politely, gesturing toward the back of the store, and he nods before turning around.

And that's when he sees me.

Nathaniel's POV

The bookstore wasn't my idea.

James suggested it after I complained for the third time about how disorganized my home office was. Apparently, my shelves are too "soulless" and "cold." As if books are going to fix that.

Still, I'm here. Because even though James annoys me, he's usually right about these things.

I step inside, immediately regretting it. The place is tiny and smells like dust and nostalgia, and I feel entirely out of place.

I approach the counter, where a kind-looking older woman greets me with a smile.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"I need books. For decoration," I say flatly.

Her smile falters for a moment before she quickly recovers. "Of course. Any particular genre you're looking for?"

"Whatever looks... classic," I reply, gesturing vaguely.

She nods, clearly trying to hide her confusion, and points toward the back of the store.

I turn to follow her directions, but then I see her.

At first, I don't recognize her. She's crouched behind a shelf, her face partially hidden, but there's something familiar about the way she's awkwardly pretending not to notice me.

And then it hits me.

It's her. The woman from yesterday.

The one who collided into me like a hurricane of clumsiness and awkward apologies. The one who... kissed me.

Okay, it wasn't really a kiss. But still.

For a moment, I just stare at her. She's wearing an oversized sweater that looks like it belongs to someone twice her size, and her hair is pulled into a messy bun. She's holding a stack of books, her fingers fidgeting nervously as she avoids my gaze.

It's almost... endearing.

No. Not endearing. Annoying.

I clear my throat, and her head snaps up. Our eyes meet, and I can tell she's just as surprised as I am.

"Uh... hi," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lila's POV

Kill me now.

Why is he here? Out of all the bookstores in the city, why did he have to walk into this one?

And why is he looking at me like that? Like he's trying to figure out if I'm a real person or just some sort of cosmic joke.

"Hi," I manage to squeak, my voice embarrassingly small.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You work here?"

"Uh... yeah," I say, gesturing vaguely at the shelves around me. "Part-time."

He nods, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, we just stand there in awkward silence.

I feel like I should say something-anything-to break the tension. But my brain is a scrambled mess, and all I can think about is how close he is and how good he smells.

"So... are you looking for anything in particular?" I blurt out, desperate to fill the silence.

His lips twitch, like he's trying not to smirk. "Books. For decoration."

"Oh." I blink, unsure of how to respond. "That's... specific."

"I know," he says, his tone dry.

I can't tell if he's being serious or if he's making fun of me, but either way, I feel like I'm failing some sort of test.

"Well, uh, we have some classics over here," I say, leading him toward a nearby shelf.

He follows me, his presence somehow both intimidating and... distracting.

I reach for a book, my hands still shaking slightly, and I accidentally knock over an entire row of paperbacks.

"Sorry!" I yelp, scrambling to fix the mess.

He doesn't say anything, but when I glance up, I catch the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

Is he... amused?

The thought makes my cheeks burn even hotter, and I quickly turn away, focusing on the books in front of me.

"So, uh, do you like to read?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

"Not really," he replies bluntly.

"Then why are you buying books?"

"For decoration," he repeats, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I can't help it-I laugh. It's a nervous, awkward laugh, but it's real.

"Right. Because nothing says 'homey' like unread books," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop myself.

His eyes narrow slightly, but there's no malice in his expression. If anything, he looks... intrigued.

"Do you always talk this much?" he asks.

"Only when I'm nervous," I admit without thinking.

His lips curve into a smirk, and my heart does a weird little flip.

"Well," he says, "you're certainly... interesting."

I have no idea what he means by that, but the way he says it makes my stomach flutter.

And as much as I want to escape this moment, a small part of me hopes he'll stick around just a little longer.

Lila's POV

I told myself I wouldn't think about him.

Nathaniel.

Even his name feels out of place in my world. Too polished, too... unattainable. But here I am, obsessing over every word he said, every look he gave me. It's been three days since he walked into the bookstore, and I've replayed our awkward interaction a hundred times in my head.

I mean, who buys books just for decoration? Who does that?

And why does it bother me so much?

"Earth to Lila!"

I snap out of my thoughts to find my best friend, Mia, waving a hand in front of my face. She's perched on my bed, surrounded by an explosion of art supplies and snack wrappers.

"You've been zoning out all morning," she says, raising an eyebrow. "What's going on? Don't tell me you're actually thinking about a guy."

"I'm not!" I blurt out, too quickly to sound convincing.

Mia smirks, clearly not buying it. "Oh, this is juicy. Spill."

"There's nothing to spill," I insist, picking at a loose thread on my sweater. "Just... some guy came into the bookstore the other day. He's rude and full of himself, and I can't stop thinking about how annoying he is."

"Uh-huh," Mia says, nodding sagely. "And is this 'rude, full-of-himself' guy by any chance super hot?"

I groan, burying my face in my hands. "That's not the point!"

"It totally is," she teases, throwing a pillow at me. "Come on, what's his name? What does he look like?"

"Nathaniel," I mumble. "And he's... fine, okay? Just... tall and sharp-looking. Like he walked out of a billionaire romance novel or something."

Mia gasps dramatically. "Lila! Are you blushing? This is monumental."

"I'm not blushing!" I protest, even though I can feel my cheeks heating up.

"Sure, sure," she says with a grin. "Well, you'd better be careful. Guys like that are usually trouble."

I roll my eyes. "Trust me, Mia, I have zero intention of getting involved with him. He's not my type. And I'm definitely not his."

But even as I say the words, I can't help but wonder why the thought makes my chest feel so heavy.

Nathaniel's POV

I can't get her out of my head.

The girl from the bookstore.

Lila.

I don't know why she's bothering me so much. She's the exact opposite of everything I look for in a person-messy, awkward, too quick to laugh. She doesn't fit into my world, and I don't fit into hers.

So why do I keep thinking about her?

I sit back in my office chair, staring at the stack of books on my desk. They're classics, according to the old woman who helped me at the store. Dickens, Austen, Hemingway. I haven't opened a single one of them.

They're just... there. Like her.

I shake my head, frustrated with myself. I have more important things to focus on. The quarterly report is due in two days, and my assistant has been hounding me about a merger meeting next week.

But instead of reviewing spreadsheets and emails, I find myself replaying that moment in the bookstore-the way her face turned bright red when she knocked over the books, the way she laughed nervously at her own clumsiness.

It was... charming.

No. Not charming. Distracting.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. I don't have time for distractions. My life is structured, disciplined. There's no room for chaos-or for people who bring chaos with them.

And yet...

"Sir?"

I look up to see James standing in the doorway of my office, his usual calm demeanor slightly strained.

"What is it?" I ask, already annoyed by the interruption.

"There's someone here to see you," he says.

"Did they have an appointment?"

"No, sir. But she insisted."

"She?"

Before I can ask who it is, the door swings open, and there she is.

Lila.

Lila's POV

This is a mistake.

A terrible, horrible mistake.

But here I am, standing in Nathaniel's impossibly sleek office, clutching the notebook I accidentally took home from the bookstore. It's his, of course. He must have left it on the counter while he was paying, and I didn't notice until later that night.

I could have just called the bookstore and left it with Mrs. Winslow, but for some reason, I decided to bring it here myself.

Big mistake.

He's sitting behind a massive desk, his sharp suit and piercing gaze making him look every bit the intimidating CEO. I feel like I'm about to be grilled in a corporate interrogation.

"You," he says, his tone flat.

"Hi," I reply weakly, holding up the notebook like a peace offering. "You left this at the store."

He doesn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes me in. I suddenly feel very small and very out of place.

"I thought it would be better to return it in person," I add, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You thought wrong," he says coldly.

I flinch, his words cutting deeper than they should.

"Right. Of course. Sorry for wasting your time," I say, already turning to leave.

"Wait."

His voice stops me in my tracks, and I glance back over my shoulder.

"Thank you," he says, his tone softer this time.

I nod, unsure of what to say.

And as I leave his office, my heart racing and my cheeks burning, I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into.