"My outfits?"
"You're spending a weekend with that man. You need to look good. Effortlessly gorgeous but also practical for winter activities. It's a delicate balance."
"That's... very specific."
"I know what I'm about." She loops her arm through mine and steers me toward the exit. "Plus we need to go over the rules."
"There are rules?"
"Of course there are rules. Rule number one: Don't jump him the first five minutes in the cabin, no matter how much you want to."
"Nora!"
"I'm just saying. Build anticipation. Make him work for it. Men like him, the intense, controlled types, they love the chase almost as much as the catch."
"I'm not trying to play games."
"It's not games. It's strategy." She pushes open the door, and cold air hits my face. "Rule number two: be yourself. I know that sounds contradictory after rule one, but hear me out. You're stuck with each other for a weekend. If you try to be someone you're not, it's going to fall apart by Saturday morning. Just be the Iris I know—kind, funny, secretly stubborn as hell."
"So be myself but also strategically withhold intimacy?"
"Exactly." She grins. "You're learning."
We walk through the snowy streets toward The Waffle Den, grabbing our emergency waffles, before heading up to herapartment. The festival is still in full swing around us. Lights twinkle on every storefront, couples stroll hand-in-hand, and somewhere in the distance, I can hear music playing.
"Do you think this is crazy?" I ask as we climb the stairs to her place. "Spending a weekend with a complete stranger?"
"Yes. But the good kind of crazy. The kind that makes life interesting."
Inside her apartment, she sets the waffles on the table and pours hot chocolate into mugs while I collapse onto her couch. My mind is spinning, replaying every moment of that interaction with Silas.
The way he looked at me. The way he moved through the crowd like a man on a mission. The way he said my name.
"He's intense," I say when Nora hands me a mug.
"You like intense."
"How do you know?"
"Because you've been playing it safe for two years, Iris. Ever since your dad died. You go to work, you volunteer, you come home. You don't take risks. You don't put yourself out there." She sits beside me. "But tonight, you took a risk. You bid on the scary-looking ex-military guy when you could've let it go. That tells me you're ready for something more than safe."
She's not wrong. I have been playing it safe. It was easier that way, easier to stay in my comfortable routine than to risk getting hurt again. But when I saw Silas on that stage, something in me woke up. Something that's been dormant for too long.
"What if he's not interested?" I ask quietly. "What if this is just an obligation for him?"
"Did he look uninterested to you?"
I think about the way his eyes tracked my every movement. The possessive note in his voice when he said he'd pick me up. The way he found me in the crowd like I was the only person he could see.
"No," I admit. "He didn't look uninterested."
"Exactly. So stop overthinking and just... enjoy it. Enjoy being noticed by a man who looks at you like you're something rare and precious."
I sip my hot chocolate, letting her words sink in.
Three days. I have three days to prepare for whatever this weekend is going to be.
Later that night, alone in my house, I stand in front of my closet trying to figure out what one packs for a weekend with an intense, brooding ex-military man.
