Chapter 114
Nora's POV
Later, we moved to the living room. City lights glimmered faintly through the windows, the sound of waves a low rhythm in the background.
Julian pulled me down onto the couch, one arm draped over my shoulders. Every few minutes, he'd lean down and press a kiss to my forehead. My temple. The corner of my mouth.
"You're taking this 'official boyfriend' thing way too seriously," I muttered, though I didn't pull away.
He smiled, lips still against my hair. "I'm licensed now. Just exercising my legal rights."
"Your what rights?"
"And I'm making up for lost time," he added, his voice taking on a playful edge. "I was very well-behaved during probation."
I snorted. "That's debatable."
Another kiss, this time on my nose. I gave his chest a halfhearted push, but he just caught my hand and held it.
"Stop it," I said, though there was no heat behind it.
"No."
I gave up, letting my head rest against his shoulder. It was easier than fighting him. And honestly? I didn't want to.
After a while, he glanced toward the windows. "The wind's not bad tonight. Want to take a walk? Tomorrow's going to be all wedding stuff. This might be our only chance to be alone."
I lifted my head, considering. Walking along the beach—just the two of us, nothing else, no one else—sounded perfect.
"Alright," I said. "I haven't really seen the coastline yet. And we just ate, so a walk would help with digestion..."
He stood, holding out his hand. "Let's go."
---
The ocean at night was different. Quieter. The boardwalk stretched ahead, lit by soft amber lights that barely held back the darkness. The air smelled like salt and damp wood, waves rolling in with a hypnotic, steady rhythm.
Julian held my hand as we walked, his grip warm and steady. Neither of us said much. We didn't need to.
After a while, he stopped and pulled out his phone. "Stand over there," he said, nodding toward the railing. "By the water."
I blinked. "You want to take pictures?"
"Why not?"
I hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. But he'd already raised his phone, so I turned toward the ocean, letting the sea breeze catch my hair.
"Look back at me," he said.
I did. Click.
"Now face the water again."
Another click.
"You're pretty bossy," I mumbled.
"You're really beautiful."
My face heated up again. I tried a few silly poses to break the tension—hands on my hips, sticking out my tongue—and he laughed, that low, genuine laugh, while continuing to take photos.
When he finally lowered the phone, I walked back and snatched it from his hands. The photos were... actually good. Really good.
"When did you learn to do this?" I asked, scrolling through them.
He shrugged. "Natural talent."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop smiling.
---
By the time we got back to the suite, it was nearly eleven. My whole body felt that bone-deep exhaustion—the kind that sets in after a long day, leaving you completely drained.
"I'm going to shower," I said, already heading toward the bedroom. "Today really wore me out."
Julian nodded. "I should head out too then."
I stopped, frowning. "Head out where?"
He looked at me, slightly puzzled. "To find somewhere to sleep."
"What?" I stared at him. "You're not staying here?"
He looked genuinely surprised. "You... don't mind?"
"It's a suite," I said, feeling heat creep up my neck. "Two separate bedrooms. I'm not suggesting we... I mean, it's not like we'd be sharing a—" I gestured vaguely toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, my words tumbling out incoherently.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I understand."
"Stop laughing at me."
"I'm not laughing." But his eyes were practically glowing with suppressed humor. He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thank you for wanting me to stay."
The simple sincerity in those words made my chest tighten. I nodded and quickly grabbed my overnight bag. "I'm going to shower. Make yourself comfortable."
I practically fled to the bathroom and closed the door. The reflection in the mirror showed how flustered I looked.
Two bedrooms, I reminded myself. Completely appropriate.
I took my time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the day's tension. When I finally emerged, wrapped in the hotel's plush robe with my damp hair clinging to my shoulders, I stepped out.
The bedroom they'd assigned me was absurdly luxurious—high ceilings, a bed that could fit four people, blackout curtains framing floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the dark ocean. I changed into pajamas and climbed under the covers, expecting exhaustion to pull me under immediately.
Instead, I lay there staring at the ceiling, hyperaware that Julian was in the bedroom across from mine. My mind kept replaying the evening—his fingers brushing mine as he peeled shrimp, the way he'd bitten that crab meat from my hand, how he'd held me tight when I asked him to be my boyfriend.
I rolled onto my side, then my back again, then tried curling into a ball. Nothing worked. My body was tired but my brain refused to shut down, cycling through every look he gave me, every quiet promise he'd made.
Finally, I gave up. Maybe some fresh air would help settle my racing thoughts. I slipped out of bed and padded barefoot through the suite toward the balcony.
The sliding door was already open, sheer curtains billowing gently in the salt-scented breeze. I stepped outside and stopped short.
Julian sat in one of the wicker chairs, laptop balanced on his knees, his profile lit by the screen's glow.