“When we were talking about movies in the car, you mentioned something about the dance scenes in rom-coms being your favorite. So, I figured—we’re in one of the most romantic cities in Italy. Why not dance?”
I struggle to hide my smile. Ihadn’tactually told Nolan that those scenes are my favorite parts of romantic comedies—not explicitly, anyway. I had started by listing my favorite songs from the ’90s, then into the ’00s, and then noted that most ofthose songs had actually been used in scenes where the leads finally danced together.
He must have read between the lines.
I immediately recognize the song as Sixpence None the Richer’s ‘Kiss Me,’ and a long-buried part of myself wakes up—the part that loved rewatchingThe Princess Diariesover and over again just to see Clarisse and her bodyguard, Joe, dance together, or Princess Mia spinning on the dance floor in her gown and tiara.
Without hesitation, I slip my fingers into Nolan’s hand and stand as gracefully as I can at 3 AM, when my body wants nothing more than to be asleep. His smile is radiant as he drops his hand to gently rest at the small of my back, and he pulls me in closer, the heat of his body making my pulse break into a gallop.
To be honest, I’m pretty sure I nearly black out. Because Nolan is acting out every ’90s girl’s fantasy of dancing to this song with a sweet, gorgeous guy.
Not that we actually dance so much as sway—there’s not enough room to even attempt anything other than that—but I don’t mind. Because it means I can rest my head on his chest to hide my blazing cheeks and listen to the steadythump,thump,thumpof his heartbeat.
“Is this the kind of dancing you were talking about?” he muses, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“Notquite,” I laugh. “But it’ll do.”
We’re quiet for a few moments as we sway, the twinkling lights of the town below visible through the open window. I exhale a contented sigh, but there’s a question on the tip of my tongue, itching to be asked.
“Hey, so…when we were in your office, you said that you liked me…”
“Mhmm,” he hums in confirmation, so as not to interrupt my train of thought.
“And—look, this isn’t me fishing for compliments, I swear, but…can I askwhy? I mean, I know I’m incredibly funny, based on how often I make you laugh,” I quip sarcastically, trying to play off my keen embarrassment. “But you…you’re the kind of person who brightens any room they’re in. You’re optimistic and good-natured. You see the best in people. And I just feel like I’m this little cartoon storm cloud that can’t stop thundering.”
A low chuckle spills from Nolan; the rumble reverberating in his chest such a soothing sound that I find myself closing my eyes while I wait for him to answer.
“Believe it or not, Chloe, but you’re not as dark and twisty as you think.”
“I resent that,” I huff in mock indignation.
“Look, if I’m being honest, when we first met, I was drawn to your…” he pauses, searching for the right word, “…flustered chaos. It was cute. Endearing. Also, I liked the way your ass looked in those cargo pants on the dock. What can I say? I’m drawn to a beautiful woman in tight-fitting workwear. It’s not rocket science.”
I giggle into his chest, secretly pleased to hear him compliment my body. I’m not vain, but it happens so rarely that it feels nice to be noticed in that way.
“But as I got to know you better, I found that you’re also incredibly easy to talk to, and while you may be discerning, I never feel judged by you,” Nolan continues. “Hmmm…what else? Oh—you’re passionate about what you do, and I love that. Even if you’re feeling a little uninspired right now. Plus—and this one may come as a surprise—you genuinely care about people. I can tell just by the way you talk to Sora. You never make her feel stupid, or like she doesn’t belong, like you sometimes see in my line of work with the newbies. You recognized her need for a mentor, so you became one.”
His words are like a balm—healing the parts of myself that have felt small, scared, and shameful. As I neared my thirties,each day I wasn’t where I wanted to be left me more jaded and angry. I hadn’t always felt that way, and I knew that, but it was so hard to see past the solid brick wall I had built to keep the world out, shielding them from seeing my failures, but also sealing me in, alone, with my disappointments.
Nolan steps back from me and lifts his arm up over my head as he guides me into an awkward twirl. I laugh and tumble into him as I complete the spin, settling back into his firm chest.
“Your storm cloud isn’t who you are, Chloe. It’s just weather—and weather changes. But even if it doesn’t, I actuallylovegetting caught in the rain. So, storm all you want, baby. I’m just going to find a way to enjoy it.”
Nolan brushes a lock of hair out of my face, and his hand pauses at my cheek, the softest whisper of a touch sending a shiver throughout my body. I feel like we’re teetering on the brink of something transcendent—like standing on the edge of a cliff, poised to dive into the water below, even if we can’t see what’s hidden beneath the surface.
Even though my last relationship ended a few years ago, I’ve had men in my bed—nights of tangled limbs, need, and emptiness pawing at me until I felt sated enough to sleep. But what’s happening between Nolan and me is a level of intimacy I’m completely unfamiliar with, and it leaves me feeling a little vulnerable, my stomach twisting into nervous knots.
Something changes in Nolan’s eyes then, and he drops his mouth to my ear.
“Let me show you just how much I like you,” he rasps, his breath tickling the sensitive skin beneath my ear. There’s a subtle note of concern in his voice, as if he’s afraid I’ll say no. But he’s clearly a fool if he isn’t already aware of how completely and utterly head-over-fucking-heels I am for him.
And how much I want this.
“Alright,” I breathe, my words barely a whisper above the pounding of my pulse.
And then his lips crash into mine.
TWENTY-SIX
