And I would absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent not think about Noah. Or his irritatingly perfect blue eyes. Or his stubbled chin.
The lie tasted sweeter than the wine.
I reached for my phone with fingers like sun-dried raisins,angling for one last shot, the steam rising from the bath, stars visible through the skylight, my bare legs extending from a blanket of bubbles.
“Midnight soak under Colorado stars. I could get used to this mountain lifestyle. #LuxeLifeAfterDark #SelfCare”
The post went live just as my eyelids grew heavy; the combination of exhaustion, alcohol, and hot water finally overcame my second wind. Steam rose in hypnotic swirls as my eyelids grew heavier, the weight of the day finally claiming victory over my stubborn determination to remain conscious. The bath’s lavender scent wrapped around me like a spell, pulling me down …
Down …
Down …
Into the darkness ...
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound floated toward me as if traveling through water, distant yet distinct. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, weighted with lingering exhaustion and silky bathwater.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
More insistent this time, the rhythm drummed against the edges of my consciousness.
“Just five more minutes,” I mumbled, inhaling fumes from the lavender-scented water. The jets had switched off while I’d dozed, leaving the bathroom in peaceful silence broken only by the soft drip of condensation from the faucet.
Click
It was the sound of the door opening.
My eyes fluttered open. Maya was probably just being proactive, checking if I needed anything else after my rough arrival.
I held my breath, not making a sound. The bathwater had cooled, but enough bubbles remained to preserve my modesty, creating a shimmering film across the surface.
Footsteps echoed through the suite, each one slightly distorted, as if I were hearing them from underwater … in outer space.
I slid down until just my nose and eyes remained above the waterline, letting the foam cover everything else.
The footsteps drew closer to the bathroom, unhurried yet purposeful. A shadow appeared in the gap beneath the door, larger than it should be, stretching impossibly across the marble floor.
My breath caught as the bathroom door opened with dreamlike slowness. Through the steam, Noah’s tall frame filled the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the bedroom. He seemed taller than I remembered, his presence filling the room completely. The moonlight streaming through the skylight illuminated him from behind, creating a halo effect around his tousled hair.
“What are you doing here?” My voice sounded breathless, uncertain.
Noah’s eyes locked with mine, impossibly blue even in the dimness, like alpine lakes reflecting a summer sky. He ran a hand through his already-disheveled hair, the movement fluid and mesmerizing. “I wanted to make it up to you. For what happened at the airport.”
The bathwater swirled around me as I shifted. The bubbles that had been clinging to the water’s surface began to disappear. They didn’t simply pop; they dissolved into the air like wisps of vapor, one by one, in silent surrender. “And how do you intend to make it up to me?” The words flowed from my lips unbidden.
Noah took a step closer, his boots silent now on the marblefloor. The corner of his mouth curved up in a half-smile that sent liquid heat racing through my veins, pooling low in my belly. “Let me show you.”
The water suddenly surged forward, rising over my face and covering my entire head. I gasped, inhaling bathwater instead of air. Panic clawed at my chest as I realized I’d slipped beneath the surface, the dream shattered by the harsh reality of lavender-scented water shooting up my nose.
“Aagh!” My head breached the surface, water splashing over the edges of the tub as I bolted upright, coughing and sputtering. Lavender bath salts burned my nasal passages, my lungs heaving as I choked up bath water.
Once I was sure I wasn’t drowning, I blinked rapidly, disoriented, searching for any other presence in my room. But the bathroom was empty, steam still hanging in the air. No Noah. No footsteps. Just the echo of my racing heart and the now-tepid bathwater lapping against the sides of the tub.
“What the actual hell?” I gasped between coughs, horrified by the vivid dream my exhausted brain had conjured. “Bad brain! Bad!”
I scrambled out of the tub on shaky legs, grabbing a towel to wrap around myself as if Noah might materialize again if I didn’t cover up quickly. My skin was pruned from the extended soak, my limbs heavy with fatigue despite my racing heart.
