By noon, we had already settled in, put away the groceries, and were now devouring the lunch Anne and Jimmy had cooked up.

Ed and I were stuck doing the dishes, bickering over everything and nothing, while Kendall made yet another cup of tea.

Jimmy was stacking firewood, deep in conversation with Anne—who looked absolutely mesmerized by everything coming out of his mouth.

(Oh, Anne. You poor, poor thing.)

Harry, meanwhile, was watching TV, seemingly unbothered.

Then it happened.

The Manhunt 2025 ad.

I saw it before I heard it—the obnoxious flashing lights, the dramatic music.

But the second the host's voice boomed through the living room, Harry tensed.

"Manhunt 2025, ladies and gentlemen!"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Twenty young lads, twenty pretty faces and toned bodies compete for the ultimate award..."

Harry shifted. His jaw clenched.

"Twenty super boys competing for a trip to Hawaii for two, twenty-five thousand euros, and a contract with Gucci!"

His fingers drummed against his leg.

"Sponsored by Harrison Enterprises!"

And there it was.

The name.

The one name that made my stomach twist.

I didn't know why, but suddenly, I needed to stop everyone from watching. From hearing that name.

"I thought we came here to ski, you old farts," I blurted.

Five pairs of eyes snapped to me.

"I should've known better than to come with senile people. Did you guys bring your blood pressure pills? Your extra set of teeth?"

Jimmy immediately perked up, eyes narrowing.

"You little shit."

I grinned. Mission accomplished.

"Get your stuff. We are going right now. I'll show you who's senile, you snotty newborn."

He pushed off the couch and marched toward his room.

"Guys, we're leaving in fifteen—or you're walking to the slope!" his voice echoed down the hallway.

Suddenly, everyone was scrambling to their rooms, grabbing their gear.

Except for me.

And Harry.

The ad had ended, but he was still looking at me.

His expression was... soft.

Warm.

I held his gaze.

"Thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper.

My heart skipped.

"For what?" I asked, feigning innocence.

He didn't answer.

Instead, he pinched my cheek—like I was five—then smirked and disappeared into his room.

The slope was awesome.

I hadn't skied in a while, and I already knew my legs would be dead tomorrow.

Anne and Ed, meanwhile, spent most of their time falling over each other.

"I swear, if I fall again, I'm peeing my pants!" Anne gasped between laughs.

Jimmy and I, on the other hand, were on each other's case the entire time.

The only break he took? Teasing Harry.

"What's up, Haz? My granny can ski faster than you. Afraid to mess up that beautiful face of yours?"

Harry shot him an unbothered look.

"Yeah, I'm saving it for you. Along with my dick, so you can suck it off."

Jimmy snorted, flipping him off.

"Boys." Kendall sighed dramatically before skiing past them both.

I laughed, enjoying their ridiculousness.

Then, without warning—

"Last one down the slope cooks dinner! And is a wuss!" Jimmy shouted.

I panicked.

"What? Wait—HEY—!"

They were gone.

Even Anne and Ed had managed to push off.

I scrambled, nearly fell on my ass, and desperately tried to catch up.

But by the time I reached them, they were already laughing and drinking hot chocolate.

I skidded to a stop, panting.

"Jerks!" I huffed. "A wuss? What are we, six?"

Jimmy grinned. Pure evil.

"You could've just said cook dinner, Ella. You had no chance, you dickheads!"

They all laughed harder.

I was so spitting in their food later.

While everyone was curled up in the living room with their steaming mugs, I was stuck in the kitchen, staring at a recipe on my phone.

"What are you making?"

Harry's voice startled me.

"Chicken velouté, dear Watson," I answered.

He frowned. "Watson?"

"Something I do with my friend Chrys. I'm Sherlock. She's Watson. No idea why I just called you that. It just... came out."

"Maybe because I'm your friend too?"

I glanced at him.

"Maybe."

Harry reached for my phone and put it on top of the fridge.

"No need for that, darling. I'll help you cook. Besides, I owe you one."

I didn't argue.

He knew exactly what he meant.

We worked in companionable silence—until I heard him humming a familiar tune.

I started singing along softly without even thinking.

Harry looked at me.

"You're good."

I nodded.

"I love to sing, actually. Michael..."

I stopped.

Shit.

His name.

It had slipped out so easily, so naturally, that it shook me.

Harry's expression shifted.

"Go on."

I forced a shrug.

"Michael thought I should quit uni and be a singer."

"Is that what you want?"

"No. Not at all. I love what I'm studying. Singing is just... for friends and family."

"Am I your friend?"

"Why do you keep asking that?"

"Because I want to be."

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.

He stirred the broth.

"Michael—your ex?"

I swallowed.

"Yeah."

"The ex?"

I nodded stiffly.

"He hurt you, didn't he?"

I exhaled sharply.

"Let's just say... we need to put these veggies in the pot."

Harry didn't push.

But he didn't look away, either.

And the kitchen felt so much smaller than before.

***

"Delicious! Just what we needed!" Ed groaned, finishing the last bite of crunchy bread.

"Indeed, delicious," Kendall agreed, sipping her wine.

I smiled, but I couldn't take credit for something I didn't do.

"Harry made it."

He turned to me, eyebrow raised.

"We did it together," he corrected. His smile lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

"As long as soup is all you do together, no problem," Jimmy muttered under his breath.

I snapped my gaze to him.

Excuse me?

But he wouldn't meet my eyes. He just kept eating, silent.

After dinner, Harry and I escaped to the living room, where I dug through the cupboard under the TV.

"Who wants to play cards?" I shouted, startling him.

One by one, everyone joined in. I set up the coffee table, tossed some cushions on the floor, and grabbed the deck.

"What are we playing?" Anne plopped down next to me.

"Poker okay with everyone?" I wiggled my eyebrows.

Nobody objected.

As I shuffled the deck, a phone vibrated on the couch beside me.

"Whose phone is this?" I asked, reaching for it.

Then I saw the name flashing on the screen.

"Charlie."

My stomach twisted.

I didn't need to ask who it belonged to.

Without a word, I handed it to Harry.

His expression darkened instantly.

He stood up so fast it was like the couch burned him.

"I'm taking this inside." His voice was tight. Careful.

He glanced at me. Just me.

"Go ahead without me."

I nodded, forcing indifference onto my face.

Why do I even care?

The second he was gone, I dealt the cards.

The game picked up fast. Laughter, banter, bets being placed. Everyone was fully invested—except for me.

I played on autopilot, mind flickering back to Harry, to her, to that damn phone call.

And still, I was winning.

My dad had taught me well—poker had been our thing, his sneaky way of getting me to confess my mischief, worries, heartbreaks back in high school. Now, all that tutoring was paying off.

By the time Harry re-entered the room, I was cleaning house.

"All in," Ed declared proudly, stacking his last thirty euros.

I smiled.

That was exactly what I'd been waiting for.

I had four sevens.

Damn near impossible to beat.

Harry sat behind me on the couch. He didn't say a word, but I knew he could see my cards.

"Are you sure, Ed?" I teased.

"Positive," he grinned.

"Alright. This could determine the winner, or prove I finally found a decent opponent."

I matched his bet, fingers hovering over the pile of cash—

"Full house, baby! Eat my dust!" Ed whooped, slamming his hand on the table.

Three kings. Two queens.

He reached for the money—

I slapped my cards down.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not so fast."

His face dropped.

"Four sevens. I believe this belongs to me."

"Holy shit!" Jimmy laughed.

"I'll be damned." Ed ran a hand through his hair, staring at his empty wallet.

"I can read you like a damn book, Ed. The second I saw your grin stretch to your ass, I knew you had a full house. But I had this."

From behind me, Harry's voice was low, amused.

"You had a good hand. It's not like you demonstrated some wild strategy."

I twisted to face him. Challenging.

"Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

His lips twitched.

"Maybe later."

He pushed up from the couch and headed to the mini-bar in the corner.

The night continued with Trivial Pursuit—Jimmy and Anne teamed up (shocker), Kendall and Tom formed a duo, and I was stuck with Ed.

Harry? He was in charge of asking questions, deciding whether answers were acceptable.

We had a ridiculous amount of fun—arguing, laughing, messing with each other.

By midnight, Kendall and Tom headed to bed, Ed was half-asleep, and Jimmy had cornered Anne on the sofa.

I pretended not to notice the occasional sound of lips meeting lips.

"They seem to be having fun," Harry's voice was low, close to my ear.

I turned, finding him watching me, his breath warm against my skin.

I tore my gaze away, looking toward Jimmy and Anne.

"I just hope she knows what she's doing."

Harry frowned.

"What do you mean?"

I glanced at him. Seriously?

"What do I mean? Harry, unless you're Justin Bieber, you should know exactly what I mean."

He laughed, shaking his head.

"You are something else."

"What? Jimmy is well... Jimmy. And Anne is Anne."

His expression shifted.

"So what? He's a player, and she's a nice girl?"

I nodded.

"Exactly."

"Like me?" he challenged.

I hesitated.

His jaw tightened.

"Harry, I just don't like it when innocent people get hurt." I exhaled. "Take Charlie, for example—"

His whole demeanour changed.

"She knows what she's doing," he said flatly.

"Yeah, she does. But Anne? She'll expect the chocolates, the flowers, the morning-after cuddles, and the daily texts. And guys like you and Jimmy aren't like that."

His eyes darkened.

"You think you've got us all figured out, don't you?"

"I just—"

"No, no. Tell me, Ella. Are you trying to convince me... or yourself?"

His words hit me like a brick wall.

My throat went dry.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Harry stood up, shoving a hand through his hair.

"You figure it out. You seem to have everything figured out anyway."

His tone was sharp, but there was something else there, too.

Something unreadable.

"Ed, let's go. You're falling asleep."

He didn't look back at me once as he helped Ed up and disappeared down the hall.

I sat there, staring after him, feeling...

Unsettled.

What the fuck just happened?