My fingers were trembling so hard I almost dropped my phone onto the kitchen counter.
Nora: Sheridan, I’m so sorry. My mom got severely injured and is stuck in bed. I had to take an emergency bus home to run her bakery for the Oakhaven Fall Festival. I’ve been baking non-stop since yesterday morning and completely lost track of the days. I forgot today was Tuesday. I didn’t mean to miss our session.
I stared at the glowing screen, holding my breath in silence.
If Knox reported a contract breach to Coach Brennan... I didn’t even want to think of what would happen.
After a long, agony-filled minute passed, the typing bubbles finally appeared.
Knox: Oakhaven? That’s a ninety-minute drive. You went all that way for a festival?
Nora: I went to keep my mother from losing her business. If I didn’t deliver this catering order, we faced a cancellation fee we couldn’t afford. I lost track of time, Sheridan. It was an emergency.
I waited, picturing Knox in his room at the SinBin, his eyes narrowed at his phone, his jaw tight with irritation.
Finally, a single message popped up.
Knox: Fine. Don’t fall asleep in the flour, Bookworm. We do a double session Thursday when you get back.
A dizzying wave of relief washed over me. Knox was arrogant, hot-tempered, obsessed with his eligibility, and a jerk, so it was almost a surprise that he simply rescheduled.
Nora: Thank you, Sheridan. I owe you one.
Knox: You owe me a lot more than one, Bennett. And I always collect. Get some sleep.
My heart gave a stupid, unexpected little flutter at the screen, unsure of what he meant. But I let out a shaky breath, locked my phone, and finally went to bed.
By six o’clock on Wednesday morning, the Oakhaven Fall Festival delivery was officially underway.
Drew and I loaded the final crates of golden sourdough loaves and boxes of piped pumpkin spice cupcakes into his uncle’s pickup truck.
By seven, the festival organizers had signed off on the delivery, and the full catering payout cleared into the bakery’s business account.
When I went upstairs to check on my mother, she was sitting up in bed, color finally returning to her cheeks.
"We did it, Mom," I smiled, setting a warm cup of herbal tea on her nightstand. "The order is delivered, the deposit is secured, and the cancellation fee is officially avoided."
Mom reached up and squeezed my hand, tears filling her eyes. "I don’t know what I did to deserve a daughter like you, Nora," she said. "You saved us."
"You built this place for me, Mom," I said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I’m just keeping the oven warm."
By Wednesday afternoon, with my mother comfortably resting and a local assistant hired for the week, it was time for me to head back to campus.
Drew drove me to the Oakhaven bus station in his truck. As I pulled my canvas duffel bag from the passenger footwell, Drew leaned over the center console, looking at me with a warm, gentle smile.
"It was really great seeing you, Nora," he said. "Seriously. It felt like old times."
"It was great seeing you too, Drew," I said, feeling a quiet pang of nostalgia. "Thank you for saving my life with the flour."
"Anytime," he smiled. Then he pulled out his phone, holding it out toward me. "Here. Put your number in. I’m not letting another four years go by without keeping in touch."
I laughed softly, taking his phone and typing in my number. He immediately called it, letting my phone buzz once in my jacket pocket.
"Now you have mine," he said simply, taking his phone back. "Don’t be a stranger, Nora. And don’t work too hard back at Briar, okay? And visit home soon."
"I won’t," I promised, pushing open the passenger door. "Safe drive back to campus, Drew."
"Take care of yourself," he said.
I stepped out, shouldered my duffel bag, and walked into the bus station without looking back. But I felt him watching until the glass doors slid shut behind me.
The ninety-minute bus ride back to Briar passed in a quiet blur.
I sat near the back, watching the Oakhaven skyline fade away through the rain-streaked window, the town slowly giving way to highway and then the wide, familiar sprawl of the Briar University campus.
By eight-thirty on Wednesday evening, I was climbing the stairs to my apartment, every muscle in my body still aching from yesterday’s baking marathon.
Priya was curled up on the sofa with a textbook when I pushed open the front door. The second she saw me, she tossed the book aside and jumped up, pulling me into a tight, fierce hug.
"Oh my god, you’re back," she breathed, hugging me hard. "I was checking my phone every five minutes. How’s your mom?"
"She’s recovering," I said, leaning into the hug before dropping my heavy duffel bag by the door. "The festival order was delivered at six this morning, and the payment cleared. We’re safe."
"Thank God," Priya let out a long sigh of relief. She walked into the small kitchen area, where a pot of leftover buttered pasta was resting on the stove. "Sit down. You look like a ghost. I’m warming this up for you."
"You’re an angel," I admitted, sinking onto one of the wooden stools at the kitchen island. I hadn’t eaten a real meal since a slice of toast at dawn, and the smell of warm garlic and parmesan made my stomach rumble loudly.
Priya slid a steaming bowl and a fork across the counter toward me.
Then her expression shifted, her dark eyes narrowing with that familiar, dangerous spark of curiosity as she leaned against the island.
"Now... tell me about this Drew."
I closed my eyes with a dry groan around my first bite of pasta. I’d mentioned his name in a quick two-line text on Tuesday afternoon while waiting for sourdough to proof, and I’d known the moment I hit send that I’d never hear the end of it.
"He’s just an old friend from high school," I said flatly, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "He helped me haul fifty-pound flour sacks so I didn’t break my own back."
"Just a friend," Priya repeated, tilting her head with a sly, unconvinced smile. "A ’friend’ who dropped everything, spent thirteen hours in a hot kitchen with you, and drove you to the bus station?" She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming. "Did he give you his number?"
"Priya..."
"Nora Elizabeth Bennett. Did. He. Give. You. His. Number?"
I held her gaze for three seconds before letting out a defeated breath. "Yes."
Priya’s face lit up in a triumphant, wicked grin. "I knew it! High school crush, classic hometown reunion... it’s practically a movie."
"It’s not a movie, Pri," I laughed softly, taking another bite. "He lives in Oakhaven and goes to State. I live here, drowning in Briar economics formulas and work-study shifts."
"Speaking of shifts," Priya pointed out, her tone softening with genuine concern. "Are you working tomorrow?"
"Double closing shift at Rusty’s Diner," I sighed, rubbing my tired temples. "I missed two days of hourly work-study pay while I was gone. So I have to cover up the extra hours tomorrow."
"You’re going to crash if you keep running on zero sleep, Nora," Priya warned.
"I’ll survive. Just one late shift," I said, standing up to rinse my bowl in the sink. "I’m going to take a fast shower and crash."
I showered and climbed into bed just before ten o’clock.
For a few quiet minutes, I just lay in the dark, listening to the distant sound of wind against the window. My whole body felt wrung out, but there was a low, unresolved tension humming beneath the surface.
Just then, my phone lit up on the pillow beside me.
Unknown Number: Hope the bus ride wasn’t too long. Let me know when you’re back safe.
I smiled at the screen, knowing exactly who it was. I saved his contact as ’Drew’, then typed back a quick reply, telling him I was home, thanking him again.
His response came fast... a smiley face and: Get some rest, Nora. You earned it.
I set the phone down, still smiling faintly.
Then the screen lit up again.
Knox: Thursday. Study Room 4C. 7 PM. Don’t be late.
As I read it, the smile faded slowly.
I stared at both conversations sitting open on my screen: Drew’s warm, easy thread on one side, Knox’s cold, clipped command on the other.
I didn’t even bother replying. I just scoffed at his text, tossed my phone onto the nightstand, and rolled over. I pulled the blankets up to my shoulders and finally closed my eyes.
I’d deal with Mr. Arrogant tomorrow.