Chapter 85: Cold Text

NORA’S POV

Drew’s lips pressed against mine, feeling warm, gentle, and familiar .

For two seconds, I kept my eyes closed, waiting for the lightning bolt. I waited for the breathless rush of static, the wild racing of my pulse, the consuming heat that was supposed to make the world blur at the edges.

But nothing happened.

There was no spark... no fire... no electric shockwave running down my spine.

Kissing Drew Miller felt like kissing an old high school photograph. It was safe, polite, and completely hollow.

A wave of panic suddenly hit me.

Before the kiss could deepen, I raised my hands and pressed my flat palms firmly against Drew’s flannel-clad chest, gently but decisively pushing him back.

Drew pulled away instantly, his hazel eyes blinking in mild surprise as his breath hitched.

"Nora?" Drew asked in confusion.

I took a step back, my boots scraping against the weathered wooden planks of the dock. My chest heaved softly under my wool coat as I looked up at him with an aching, apologetic pang in my chest.

"I’m sorry, Drew," I murmured, my voice trembling slightly in the breeze. "I-I can’t do this."

Drew lowered his hands, his shoulders sinking as a look of quiet, painful understanding crept across his face.

"Was it... was it too fast?" Drew asked gently. "I didn’t mean to push you, Nora. I just..."

"No, it’s not that," I interrupted softly, shaking my head. I looked out over the glassy, dark water of the lake, feeling the clarity settling in my soul. "It just... it doesn’t feel right, Drew. It’s too late for us."

Drew swallowed hard, his jaw tightening slightly as he studied my face.

"It’s Sheridan, isn’t it?" he asked in a low, hollow whisper.

I didn’t dodge the question. I didn’t hide behind excuses.

"Yes," I breathed, meeting his gaze with honest, tear-bright eyes. "I think... I think I’m already falling in love with him, Drew. And it wouldn’t be fair to you... or to me to pretend I could ever feel that way about anyone else."

Drew stared at me, his hazel eyes clouded with hurt. He stepped forward and reached out, gently catching my forearms.

"Nora, please, just listen to me for a second." He sounded hurt too. "Sheridan doesn’t live in our world. He’s a billionaire’s son with half the country watching him. His life is a circus of press conferences, scandals, and family politics. You’ve known me since we were twelve years old. We grew up on the same street, studied at the same kitchen tables. I know who you are, Nora. I can give you a real life. Something steady. Something safe."

I looked up with genuine sympathy, but my resolve didn’t waver.

"I know you’re safe, Drew," I said softly, gently pulling my arms from his grasp. "And two years ago, safe was all I thought I wanted. But Knox... he isn’t just chaos, Drew. He sees me. He protects me. And what I feel for him isn’t something I can turn off just because it’s terrifying."

Drew stared at me for a long, silent moment, his hands slowly falling back to his sides. The wind rippled across the surface of the lake, rustling the dry pine needles along the shore.

Finally, he let out an exhale. The desperation in his face softened into sad, painful acceptance. "He’s a lucky guy, Nora. Come on. Let’s get you back to the bakery."

The drive back to Main Street was quiet, but peaceful. Drew walked me to the front door of Sugar & Spice, gave my shoulder a gentle, parting squeeze, and wished me a safe trip back to Briar on Sunday.

—

By eight-thirty that evening, a massive weight had lifted from my chest.

I sat on the edge of my old twin bed upstairs in my childhood bedroom, staring at the glowing screen of my phone.

For the first time in weeks, my mind wasn’t clouded with confusion, fear, or guilt. I had closed the door on the past for good.

All I wanted now was to hear Knox’s voice.

I opened our text thread, smiling at the memory of his proud, ecstatic laugh when he had spun me around outside the student union yesterday.

My thumbs moved quickly across the screen:

Nora: Hey. Hope training went well today. Can we talk as soon as I get back to Briar on Sunday?

I set the phone on my nightstand, went to the bathroom to wash my face, and pulled on a pair of oversized flannel pajama pants.

An hour passed. Then two.

At ten-forty-five, my phone finally buzzed against the wooden nightstand.

I grabbed the phone eagerly, unlocking the screen.

Knox: Busy with rink prep. Talk to your advisor if you need study hours.

My smile completely froze.

I stared at the screen, reading the words three times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

Busy with rink prep. Talk to your advisor if you need study hours.

The message was cold and completely stripped of the warmth and playful arrogance that defined every conversation we had ever had.

A sharp knot of confusion tightened in my stomach.

I typed out an immediate reply:

Nora: Knox, It’s Nora. Is everything okay? Did something happen at practice?

I watched the screen.

The three little gray typing dots never appeared. The status changed to Read, but no response ever came.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour, tossing and turning.

’Why is he acting like an ice wall? Did Coach Brennan ride him during video review? Is he stressed? Or did his father pull some kind of trick against him?’

I tried to convince myself he was just having an off day. Knox had a temper when it came to hockey, and with his midterm cleared, the pressure of leading the team was probably weighing heavily on him.

—

By five-thirty on Friday morning, the bakery kitchen was warm and glowing with the low hum of the ovens. I stood at the stainless steel prep counter in my flour-dusted dark green apron, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I pulled my phone from my apron pocket and checked the screen.

Still nothing. My message from last night remained unanswered on Read.

Frowning, I tapped out one more quick message:

Nora: Heyy. You good? You sounded off yesterday and you aren’t replying to my texts.

I locked the screen, slid the phone back into my pocket, and began measuring out sourdough starter for the morning bread rolls.

At six-fifteen, Mom pushed through the swinging wooden kitchen door carrying a tray of fresh ceramic coffee mugs.

"Morning, honey," Mom smiled warmly, setting a steaming mug of black coffee beside my prep board. "You’re up early."

"Couldn’t sleep much," I admitted softly, dusting flour across the steel surface with a wooden paddle.

Mom paused by the edge of the counter, adjusting the oven timer on the wall. She looked over at me, wiping her hands on a clean kitchen towel as a sudden thought seemed to cross her mind.

"Oh, Nora! I almost completely forgot to tell you," she said with a bright, cheerful laugh. "Yesterday afternoon, while you were out with Drew, this handsome young man came into the shop looking for you."

My hands paused over the dough.

I looked up, my brow furrowing slightly. "A young man? Who?"

"I’m trying to remember his name," Mom tapped her chin, thinking for a second. "He was very tall... broad shoulders, dark leather jacket over a black shirt, messy dark curls, and the most intense dark eyes. Looked like a varsity athlete. He even had a little pastry box from some high-end café."

The breath slammed straight out of my lungs and the color drained from my face so violently my vision spun.

"Knox?" I choked out in a whisper. "Knox was here?!"

"Yes, Knox! That was it!" Mom beamed, totally oblivious to the terror spreading through my chest. "He said he was a friend of yours from Briar. He asked where you were, so I told him you were walking by the lake park with Drew and sent him down to the trail. Didn’t he find you?"

The kitchen went dead silent.

The world completely stopped spinning.

My blood turned to pure, rushing ice as a horrifying wave of realization crashed over my head, knocking every trace of air from my lungs.

Knox drove ninety miles down the mountain to surprise me.

Mom sent him to the lake trail at two-thirty.

The empty gravel parking lot...

Drew holding my shoulders on the dock...

Drew leaning down... kissing me...

Did Knox see us?!

Did he walk up to the lake and see Drew kissing me on the dock?!

The cold text from last night...

The silence...

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, terror clawing at my throat as the pieces slammed together in my mind.

Knox hadn’t had a bad day at practice.

Knox had driven all the way to Oakhaven to see me, only to watch the girl he was falling for kissing another man on a secluded dock.

The metal dough scraper slipped from my numb fingers, clattering loudly against the stainless steel prep counter.

"Oh, fuck," I gasped out in panic as I frantically reach into my apron pocket, scrambling for my phone. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."