Love In The Mist

Chapter 14 - The First Glimpse of Rivalry - Part 9

Ji-ah's POV

The night air is crisp as I step off the bus and start walking toward my house, still lost in the whirlwind of today's events. My heartbeat hasn't fully settled from the moment Oliver pulled me out of the street, from the way he held me, from the way his voice wrapped around my name like something fragile.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need to stop overanalyzing.

Then, as if the universe has other plans, I spot a figure leaning against a motorcycle right in front of my house. Ethan.

The streetlamp casts a golden glow on his sharp features, his messy dark hair tousled like he just ran a hand through it. He grins as soon as he sees me, his green eyes glinting with mischief.

"Fancy meeting you here," he says.

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. "Are you stalking me now?" I could breathe in a bit of whiskey on him. But he didnt seem drunk.

He chuckles, swinging a leg over the bike. "Tempting, but no. Thought I'd be a gentleman and invite you on a midnight adventure."

I arch an eyebrow. "A midnight adventure?"

Ethan pats the empty space behind him. "St. Ives is a whole different world at night. Fewer tourists, more magic. Thought you might want to see it for yourself."

I hesitate. I really should go inside, curl up in bed, and stop thinking about Oliver. But there's something about Ethan—his confidence, his effortless charm—that makes it easy to say yes.

"Alright," I say, grabbing the helmet he hands me. "Let's see what kind of adventure you have planned."

The town is alive but in a different way than during the day. The quiet hum of the sea follows us as we ride down the empty streets, past the art galleries, the cobbled lanes, and the charming cottages that make St. Ives feel like something out of a storybook. The wind rushes against my face as I hold onto Ethan, and for the first time in a while, I feel free.

We stop at Porthmeor Beach first, kicking off our shoes and letting our toes sink into the cool sand. The moon reflects off the water, and the waves crash gently against the shore.

"Alright, confession time," Ethan says, flopping onto the sand. "When you saw me in your DMs, were you excited or annoyed?"

I laugh, sitting next to him. "A little bit of both."

He places a hand over his heart. "Wounded."

I roll my eyes. "Come on, you knew what you were doing. You have that whole 'mysterious guy with a reckless streak' thing down to a science."

He smirks. "And yet, you're here with me."

I glance away, pretending to focus on the horizon. The truth is, being with Ethan is easy. He's charming in a way that makes it impossible not to smile. But there's still something in the back of my mind, something—or someone—I can't shake.

We continue our adventure, stopping at the Wharf to grab fish and chips, walking past the Tate Gallery where Ethan dramatically declares he should have been an artist ("The world wasn't ready for my genius," he says), and finally ending up at The Island, a grassy hill overlooking the town. The view is breathtaking, the lights of St. Ives twinkling below us like fallen stars.

Ethan sits close, his shoulder brushing against mine. "I'm glad I found you that day," he says after a moment. His voice is softer now, more serious. "I don't really do this—chasing after someone. But you... you're different."

My heart stumbles over itself. He turns toward me, his eyes flickering down to my lips. The air shifts.

And then he leans in.

For a second, I don't stop him. My breath catches, my heart pounds, and I tilt my head slightly, meeting him halfway—

But right before our lips can touch, Oliver's face flashes in my mind.

The way he looked at me when we fell on the ground together. The way his hands lingered just a second too long. The way I've spent all day trying to get his attention, only to be left with more questions than answers.

I can't do this.

I pull back abruptly, my heart racing. "I—uh—I should go."

Ethan blinks, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nods. "Alright."

I stand quickly, mumbling a goodnight before rushing to get to my house, my pulse still erratic.

I take a cab and reach home. I close the door behind me, pressing my forehead against it.

What is wrong with me?

I had a perfect night with Ethan. He's kind, fun, and undeniably attractive. And yet, the moment things got serious, the only person I could think about was Oliver.

I squeeze my eyes shut, realizing the truth I've been trying to ignore.

I don't just want Oliver to notice me.

I think I want Oliver, period.