Chapter 89: Just a Second

NORA’S POV

"Nora?!" Priya’s loud voice echoed through the wood of the dorm door. "Are you in there? I saw you sprint across the quad in the pouring rain with your luggage and you never came down for lunch! Open up!"

The brass doorknob rattled violently against the locked deadbolt.

Panic surged through my veins like a shot of pure adrenaline.

"Oh god," I gasped, frantically scrambling backward off the edge of the wooden study desk.

My woolen socks hit the linoleum floor with a soft squeak, and my foot caught on the corner of a binder that Knox had knocked off the desk minutes earlier. I stumbled, barely catching myself against the edge of the mattress.

I looked down at myself in utter horror.

My oversized charcoal knit sweater was completely rumpled, the sleeves pulled halfway up my forearms. My chestnut curls were a wild, static-charged mess, and my lips were swollen, tingling with the lingering heat of Knox’s kiss.

Knox, on the other hand, didn’t move a single muscle.

He remained standing right where he was between my desk and the tall wooden dresser, looking completely and utterly unbothered.

His damp black henley was stretched tight across his broad chest, his dark curls were still dripping with rainwater, and a slow, wicked smirk was spreading across his handsome face.

"You’re not going to hide in the closet?" I hissed under my breath, my cheeks burning like molten lava as I scrambled to pick up the scattered lecture notes from the floor.

Knox arched an arrogant dark brow, crossing his muscular arms over his chest as he leaned his shoulder casually against the wardrobe. "In case you forgot, Bennett, you’re the one who dragged me into your room," he teased in an amused voice. "And I don’t hide in closets."

"Knox, please! My roommate is outside!"

"Nora?!" Priya pounded on the door again, her knuckles rattling the wood. "If you’re taking a nap after four hours on a bus, wake up! I have curly fries, cheeseburgers, and chocolate milkshakes from Rusty’s Diner!"

"Just a second, Priya!" I called out.

I shoved the stack of loose papers onto the desk, took two deep, steadying breaths, reached up, and turned the heavy brass deadbolt with a sharp, decisive click.

I pulled the door open just wide enough to poke my head out into the hallway, trying to look as casual as humanly possible.

Priya stood in the corridor wearing her bright yellow raincoat, balancing two greasy brown paper bags from the diner in one arm and two large cardboard milkshake cups in the other.

"Finally," Priya huffed, using her sneaker to shove past me. "I thought you drowned in the quad fountain or..."

Priya froze dead in the center of Room 304.

The paper bags nearly slipped right out of her hands.

Her eyes went wide as saucers as she took in the entire scene: the scattered notebooks on the rug, my flushed cheeks, my swollen mouth, and finally, the towering six-foot-three frame of Knox Sheridan leaning casually against my dresser in a damp henley and dripping dark curls.

Knox raised two fingers to his temple in a lazy, cocky salute.

"Afternoon, Patel," Knox drawled, completely unfazed by the fact that he was half-soaked in a women’s dormitory on a Friday afternoon.

Priya’s jaw dropped open until I thought it might hit the floor.

She stood completely frozen for five agonizing seconds, her gaze flicking between Knox’s damp chest and my bright red face, before a slow, knowing, triumphant smirk spread across her features.

"Well, well, well," Priya said slowly, stepping farther into the room and setting the diner bags on her desk. "I see the search-and-rescue mission was an overwhelming success."

"Priya, it’s not... I mean, we were just talking about..." I stammered, my words tangling together as my face reached temperatures that could melt steel.

"Oh, absolutely," Priya said dryly, turning around with an arched brow. "You were clearly discussing the macroeconomic implications of supply curves on top of the desk."

Knox let out a low chuckle, stepping forward with that effortless, predatory athletic grace.

He reached past Priya, dipping his hand straight into the open brown paper bag and pulling out a steaming handful of golden curly fries.

"Hey! Those are mine, Sheridan!" Priya protested, swatting playfully at his arm.

"Consider it a delivery fee, Patel," Knox murmured with a grin, tossing two fries into his mouth. "Thanks for the food. You’re a lifesaver."

Priya rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan, but the genuine, affectionate smile on her face gave her away completely.

"I’m going to pretend I didn’t see the hockey captain looking like he just swam across the Charles River in our dorm," Priya teased, shooting me a fond look. "Though, for the record, Nora, watching you sprint across the quad with that giant duffel earlier, I figured you were either catching a flight or staging an emergency intervention."

Knox’s smile softened, his eyes shifting across the room to lock onto mine.

"I should get going," he said in that low, intimate rumble that made my pulse flutter. "Coach has an optional recovery skate and film review at four, and I need to get out of these wet clothes before I freeze."

He reached down to the floor by the door, scooping up his rain-soaked leather jacket and slinging it over one broad shoulder.

"I’ll walk you out," I offered softly.

"I’d like that, Bookworm," Knox said.

We stepped out into the quiet third-floor corridor. The hallway was peaceful, the muffled sounds of campus life and distant dorm music drifting from beneath closed wooden doors.

We walked side by side toward the stairwell at the end of the hall, our shoulders brushing with every step we took. For the first time in weeks, there was no suffocating tension between us. There were no calculated rules, no anxious fears about media cameras, and no pretending.

As we reached the metal door of the stairwell, my phone vibrated in the back pocket of my leggings.

I pulled it out and looked at the glowing screen.

It was a text from my mother:

Mom: Nora, honey, did you make it to campus safely? Did you find him?

A soft, radiant warmth spread through my chest. My thumbs quickly typed out a reply:

Nora: I made it safely, Mom. I found him. Everything is okay.

Mom: I knew it would be, sweetheart. I could see how much he cared the second he walked into the bakery. Take care of each other.

I smiled, slipping the phone back into my pocket, and pushed open the stairwell door.

Knox followed me into the quiet concrete vestibule, letting the fire door click shut behind us, cutting off the rest of the world.

The rain outside had finally tapered off, leaving only a soft, gentle mist washing against the high frosted glass windows.

Knox set his wet leather jacket over the metal railing, turned around, and closed the distance between us.

He didn’t crowd me with athletic arrogance.

Instead, he reached out with incredible gentleness, his large, warm hands coming up to cradle both sides of my neck. His thumbs stroked softly over the sensitive skin along my jawline, tilting my face up until our eyes met in the quiet afternoon light.

His eyes gave a quiet, unwavering certainty that stole my breath away. All the defenses, all the bitterness, and all the fear of the past few weeks had completely dissolved.

"I want to do this right, Nora," Knox whispered in a deep voice, filled with genuine emotion.

My heart fluttered wildly against my ribs. "What are you saying, Sheridan?"

"I’m saying... no more locker-room arrangements," Knox said softly, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek with reverent care. "No PR contracts. No campus rumors. No rushing into things just because we survived a crisis today."

I looked up into his handsome, honest face, my breath catching in my throat as my hands came up to rest gently against his damp chest.

"I want to take you on a real first date tomorrow night," Knox murmured, his lips curving into a soft, beautiful smile that made my knees weak. "Just dinner. No economics homework. No hockey talk. No family drama. Just you and me."

The sincerity in his voice washed away the very last lingering shadow of doubt in my mind.

A bright, happy smile broke across my face, my hazel eyes shining with pure joy as I looked up at the boy who held my entire heart in his hands.

"Tomorrow night," I whispered, rising on my tiptoes to press a soft, lingering kiss to his warm lips. "It’s a date."