Chapter 100
Nora's POV
The hotel room was warm and dry, and the hot shower felt like heaven. When I emerged wrapped in a towel, I found a paper bag on the bed with a note in Julian's precise handwriting:
Couldn't find anything that fits perfectly on short notice. Hope these work. Don't catch cold. —J.S.
Inside was a set of comfortable loungewear and a soft purple nightgown with small daisy embroidery along the hem, a delicate ruffle collar giving it an almost vintage charm.
I held up the nightgown, feeling something tight and warm unfurl in my chest.
The nightgown fit perfectly—not too tight, not too loose.
I stood in front of the mirror, running my fingers over the soft fabric, when the doorbell rang.
Through the peephole, I could see Julian standing in the hallway, wearing a dark shirt but without the formal jacket. He looked somewhat tired, hair slightly mussed.
My heart started racing. It was almost midnight. What was he doing here?
I opened the door slowly.
"Hi," I managed, acutely aware that I was wearing nothing but the nightgown he'd bought me.
"Happy birthday, Nora." His voice was low, almost hesitant. He held up a small white bakery box and a single candle. "I know it's late. But I wanted to celebrate your birthday before the day ended."
My throat constricted. With everything that had happened today, I'd completely forgotten it was my birthday.
Julian opened the box, revealing a small tiramisu cake, clearly made in haste by the hotel kitchen. "I had flowers ordered. A proper cake. A gift." He gave a rueful smile. "But the rain and the road collapse meant none of it arrived. This was the best I could do on short notice."
I felt my eyes sting.
"You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to." He pulled out a lighter, carefully lighting the candle. The tiny flame flickered between us in the dim hallway. "We should do this properly. Make a wish."
I looked at the candle, then at him. "Are you going to sing?"
He glanced down the hallway, clearly weighing the idea of disturbing other guests at midnight. "Would you like me to?"
"Maybe not here," I said, fighting a smile.
I closed my eyes, made a wish I wasn't ready to admit even to myself, and blew out the candle. When I opened them, Julian was watching me with an expression that made my pulse skip.
"I'll get you a proper cake when we're back in Silverton," he promised.
"I want to eat this one now." I reached for the box, but he held it just out of reach.
"At least use a fork—"
I ignored him, dipping my finger into the cream and tasting it. "It's sweet."
His gaze softened, tracking the movement of my hand to my lips. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he reached out, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth where a bit of cream had lingered.
The touch sent electricity through me. His hands came up to frame my face, warm and steady, and I found myself holding my breath as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
It was chaste. Controlled. But the tenderness in it made my chest ache.
He pulled back, his hands dropping away. "Goodnight, Nora. Get some rest."
He turned to leave, and something in me snapped. I reached out, catching the edge of his sleeve.
Julian stopped, looking back at me with a question in his eyes.
I didn't let myself think. I rose on my toes, and he understood immediately, bending down to meet me halfway. Our lips touched—soft, brief, but enough to send warmth flooding through my entire body.
When we broke apart, I could barely meet his eyes. "Thank you, Julian. For everything."
His hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb stroking once across my skin. His voice was rough. "Sleep well."
I watched him walk away, then closed the door and leaned against it, my heart racing. I pressed my fingers to my lips, still feeling the ghost of his kiss.
---
I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the kiss over and over in my mind.
God, I'd initiated it. I'd grabbed his sleeve like some desperate—
I buried my face in the pillow, groaning. What if he thought I was throwing myself at him? What if this was moving too fast? What if—
My phone screen lit up on the nightstand. A voice message from Julian, twenty-three seconds long.
I grabbed the phone, my thumb hovering over the play button. Then I pressed it.
His voice filled the quiet room, low and slightly off-key: "Happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you... happy birthday, dear Nora... happy birthday to you."
It was terrible.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the laugh that bubbled up.
Completely off-pitch, the rhythm unsteady, but so earnest.
I played it again. And again. Each time, the laughter mixed with something warmer, something that settled deep in my chest and refused to leave.
At least God's fair, I thought, smiling into the darkness. Gave him everything else, had to close one window.
I fell asleep with the phone still in my hand, his off-key singing echoing in my dreams.
---
Sunlight streamed through the window when I woke, and I blinked against the brightness. The rain had stopped. I padded to the window and pushed it open, breathing in the clean, rain-washed air.
A rainbow arched across the sky, vivid and clear.
My phone buzzed. Vincent: Road's clear. We can head back.
I texted back a confirmation and started getting ready.
The hotel restaurant was busy with other stranded travelers, everyone eager to get back on the road. I spotted Vincent at a corner table and headed over, grabbing coffee on the way.
"Morning," he said, looking up from his phone. "Sleep okay?"
"Well enough." I slid into the seat across from him. "You?"
"Couch in the lobby wasn't bad." He grinned. "Better than being stuck in the car."
I was about to respond when I caught sight of a familiar face across the room. Annabel sat with her father, both dressed impeccably despite yesterday's chaos. She looked up, met my eyes, and her expression shifted into something calculating.
I looked away quickly, focusing on my coffee.
"Nora!"
Too late. Annabel was already standing, weaving between tables toward us.