POV Norah
Fiona would not stop staring at me.
Her spoon clinking against the edge of her cup like a metronome of judgment. The café was half-full, people laughing over pastries, baristas calling names, but all I felt was her gaze burning into my cheek.
“You are so busy in thought, what happened?” she finally asked, tilting her head, that sharp smile tugging at her lips.
I stirred my coffee though I hadn’t added sugar. “Nothing much.”
“Norah.” Her tone flattened, warning me she wasn’t buying it. “I see the tension between you and you-know-who. What’s up with that?”
I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze to the swirl of cream in my cup. “It’s… complicated.”
“Girl, everything with you is complicated. Spill it.”
A sigh tore out of me before I could stop it. “We were in his office. Things happened. And then—I saw this photograph on his desk. Of him and… Alaina Wheeler.”
Fiona’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. “The Alaina Wheeler? Oh my god.” She leaned in, lowering her voice like we were about to exchange state secrets. “He still had a picture of his ex?”
I nodded miserably.
“He smashed it after I teased him about it. Glass everywhere. But since then… he’s been cold. We still… you know… for the baby.” My cheeks burned. “But it doesn’t feel the same. It feels like he’s somewhere else in his head.”
“That’s a huge red flag.” Fiona sat back, folding her arms with dramatic finality. “Red. Flag. Do you hear me?”
“I know.” My throat tightened.
“Norah, be honest—are you two serious? Or just fucking around for the sake of making a baby?”
Her bluntness was a slap. I blinked, trying to find words, but all I had was the truth, raw and uncertain.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. It started as one thing… but now my feelings are—” I broke off, shaking my head. “They’re getting in the way.”
“The line blurred, didn’t it?” Fiona’s eyes softened, but her voice stayed sharp. “Girl, get your shit straight.”
“I’m trying.” My voice cracked, low and defeated. “I really am.”
Fiona reached across the table, squeezing my hand. “I know you are. But you need to figure out what you want before he decides it for you.”
Before I could respond, a voice cut through the café noise. “Norah?”
My stomach flipped.
Chris.
All easy charm and polished edges, his grin wide, his dark hair pushed back effortlessly. He leaned on the table like he’d just stepped out of an ad, his cologne threading through the warm coffee air.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes locking directly onto mine.
His voice was low, confident, the kind of greeting that didn’t need an introduction.
I froze, every nerve alive. “Chris.”
Fiona blinked at him, then at me, then at him again. I could practically see the dots connecting in her head.
Chris’s smile deepened. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Guess I got lucky.”
My pulse skittered. “Just grabbing coffee.”
“Then I really did come at the right time.” He tilted his head slightly, gaze never leaving me. “You look good. Tired a bit, maybe, but good. That smile could power the city.”
Heat crawled up my neck and I ducked my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet you’re still smiling.” He winked, and it was so easy, so smooth, it disarmed me.
Fiona nearly kicked me under the table.
Chris leaned closer, shoulder brushing mine as he pretended to glance at the menu board. His nearness was different from Xander’s consuming fire—gentler, steadier—but it still made my breath catch.
“Tell me something,” he murmured, eyes dancing over mine. “Can I take you out? A real date.”
My jaw went slack. Fiona gasped, then covered her mouth like we’d just been caught stealing diamonds.
“A date?” I stammered.
“A date,” Chris confirmed, lips curving. “Dinner, drinks, something normal. You deserve that.”
Fiona smacked my arm so hard my coffee nearly spilled. “Oh my god, YES. It’s a yes, right, Norah?”
I forced a smile, masking the storm inside me. “I’ll… text you.”
Chris slid a small card across the table, his number in bold script. “I’ll be waiting.”
With one last grin, he walked away, leaving his cologne and charisma lingering in the air.
The second the door shut behind him, Fiona exploded.
“Girrrrrrl!” she squealed, shaking my arm like I’d just won the lottery. “Did that just happen? He’s hot. He’s smooth. He’s interested. And you are so going!”
Her voice rose above the café clatter, her excitement louder than the hiss of the espresso machine.
My heart, though, was pounding too fast, too hard.
I was torn—between the cold distance of Xander and the dangerous ease of Chris. Between the man who had me body and soul, and the man who suddenly wanted to claim a part of me I didn’t even know I’d left unguarded.