Her eyes narrowed. She dug back into the bag and ripped off a larger chunk, arm already cocked.
Instinct took over. He lunged forward and caught her wrist mid-throw. The movement stilled them both. Their faces hovered inches apart, close enough that he could see the tiny freckle near her mouth, close enough that his brain helpfully shut down all higher reasoning.
A prickle ran across the back of his neck, spreading down his arms. His grip loosened without him meaning it to, every nerve suddenly aware of how close she was.
Then her eyes flicked over his shoulder and widened.
“What—” he started, already turning his head.
Just a guy. Wandering toward them, hauling an admittedly enormous camera. So what? Another tourist with an expensive hobby documenting a vista photographed to death. Before he could form a question, her free hand clamped on his chin and tugged his face toward her.
And kissed him.
Hard. All mouth and intent, like she’d decided something important, and he was it. His first thought wasOh, followedquickly byOH. Whatever protest his brain had been preparing never made it past his lips.
It took him a second to notice the shift. The urgency eased, melting into something slower, more deliberate. Her hand slid into his hair. His grip loosened, fingers uncurling from her wrist without conscious permission, as if his body had decided for him: more of this.
They broke apart at the same time, panting. For a beat, they stared at each other. The world rushed back in—the wind, distant voices—but Nate barely registered any of it. All he could see was her.
Allegra’s face turned pink. “Oh my God,” she blurted, pulling back entirely. “That was… I shouldn’t have—”
“No, don’t apologize,” Nate cut in. “Really, it’s—”
“—uncool,” Allegra barreled on, her hands flailing. “And unfair, after you know. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Nate said, even though every cell in his being was hollering,kiss her again, you idiot. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to look casual, like his pulse wasn’t still roaring in his ears. “Already forgotten.”
She gave a rapid nod, glancing past him for a second before tugging at her ponytail. “Great. Good.”
Nate nodded in return, like agreement might make this less of a lie.
Ella bent to gather her paper bag. “So, uh, where were we? Mary Shelley?”
He went with it. “Right.Frankenstein. Man makes terrible choices. Everyone pays for it.”
“Wow,” she said. “Youhaveread it.”
So he stared at the lake. At the sky. At a cloud that looked vaguely like a duck. Literally anything except her lips, and told himself—firmly, repeatedly—that wanting to kiss her again didn’t mean he should.
Half an hour later they crumpled the empty pastry bags and wandered back toward the cable car station. The ride down the mountain passed in a strange, suspended quiet. The cable car hummed along its line while the valley slowly rose to meet them, fields and rooftops sharpening into focus below. Now and then their arms bumped.
Every time it happened, his whole body seemed to notice.
***
The city was different.
Nate knew that was absurd. Geneva had not rearranged its urban planning because he and Ella Fischer had lost their collective minds on a mountainside. The cobbled streets remained cobbled. The pale stone buildings still leaned together like gossiping neighbors. Somewhere nearby, coffee cups clinked and someone laughed.
But walking beside her now carried an electric awareness he couldn’t shake. Because he knewexactlywhat her tongue tasted like. And despite an hour of determined mental discipline, his brain kept replaying the moment like a highlight reel.
Apparently, the human mind interpreteddon’t think about thatasthink about it constantly.
He shook his head and forced his attention to his surroundings. After making it back down from the Salève, Ella had suggested a tour of the Old Town. Now they wandered side by side through narrow, crooked streets paved with stones that had almost certainly witnessed centuries of drama—and probably a fair number of bad ideas.
They rounded a corner, and Nate’s gaze followed the incline to a hulking stone building.
“So, this is the big church everyone talks about?” he asked.
