26. Jack
26
JACK
HAPPENSTANCE
I t hurt to breathe. Frankly , it felt like I had been flattened by a bulldozer. That would have been easy compared to a burning roof. The only thing that went through my head during that call was Aurora . I saw her in the macabre colors of the flames. She was the whisper in the back of my head leading me on.
Watching her walk through the door of my room in the ER was a mindfuck. I had assumed I was hallucinating.
But she had been there with me as I waited for hours until I was discharged, then drove me home.
My plan had been to get one of the guys from the station to give me a lift, but Aurora didn’t even give it a second thought. She squeezed me into her sardine-can car and headed back up to Cedar Island .
I never had to ask. She was just there.
She was there, with her arm around me, walking me into my house. She was there, making sure I was comfortable and had whatever I needed within arm’s reach.
And when night fell, she was there in my bed.
Thanks to the smoke inhalation, the burns I sustained on my arm, and the minor tear in my shoulder, I was out of commission for two weeks.
Two fucking weeks . . .
Usually that would have driven me mad, but two weeks with Aurora ? I’d walk through hell for five minutes of her time.
The door opened and closed, and Aurora’s footsteps echoed through the house. “ Jack ?”
I loved hearing her call my name as she let herself into my house as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“In the living room,” I said as the snap of her flip-flops drew near.
Aurora appeared in a pair of short gym shorts that had seen better days and a paint-spattered t-shirt that was tied off just under her bra.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said as I eased up on the couch and shoved a bookmark in the novel I had been reading. “ How’d painting go?”
I had helped Aurora paint some of the trim by hand, but she insisted on doing the rest and forbade me from grabbing a paint roller.
She huffed and rested her hands on her hips. “ My arms feel like they’re going to fall off, but the kitchen and the main bathroom are done.”
“Come here,” I said as I opened the arm that wasn’t suspended in a sling and made room on the couch.
She looked down at her messy t-shirt. “ I should run back over and change. I don’t want to get paint on your couch.”
“Then take it off.”
She cracked a smile. “ You just want to see my tits, don’t you?”
“It’ll make me feel better.”
Aurora crawled onto my lap and straddled my hips. Her knees sank into the couch cushions. “ Why were you reading my book again?” she asked as she cut her eyes to the library paperback beside me.
“Because I’m waiting for the next one,” I retorted as I played with the hem of her shirt. “ You left it on a cliffhanger.”
“That’s because the author felt like she got thrown off a literal cliff.”
“She looks just fine to me,” I said as I smoothed my roughened palm over her waist and hip. “ In fact, I’d say she looks better than ever.”
Aurora’s blush was a sunset pink.
I cupped her chin and drew her in for a soft kiss. “ Can I read what you’re writing?”
“Absolutely not,” she whispered against my lips.
“It’ll help me heal faster,” I teased.
Aurora shook her head, her nose brushing against mine. “ The answer’s still no. I don’t let anyone read my first drafts.”
“Not even Willow and Whitney ?”
“Nope.”
“Not even your boyfriend?”
Aurora tossed her head back and let out a sharp laugh. “ Is that what you are?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really think you can trick me into labeling this? I never agreed to labels.”
“Yeah, you did, Roar . You agreed to it when you said you’d be mine.” I fisted the front of her shirt, yanking her down into a hard kiss. “ You agreed to be mine for however long it lasts. So yeah. That means labels and titles and all the things you hate because I want to be able to call you mine in every possible way.”
Aurora cupped my jaw and stared into my eyes, searching for something.
“What?”
“I’m just looking to see if you show signs of head trauma. I might need to take you back to the hospital to get checked out again.”
I playfully pinched her side, making her laugh.
“I’m serious,” Aurora said as she combed her fingers through my hair. “ Where did you come from? The build-a-boyfriend factory? Have you been reading Willow’s books? She writes all the fluffy shit. Whitney and I write the anti-heroes.”
“I’m more concerned with the fact that you think me wanting to label this is considered 'the fluffy shit' and not just being a reasonable person.”
“I’m serious,” Aurora said as she slid down and settled on my lap. “ Men like you don’t exist anymore. Every guy I’ve ever been with has wanted the greatest return for the smallest investment. You’re out here building beds and renovating a house and saying you're fine if you don’t have another orgasm all summer.”
“Isn’t that what you’re asking me for, though?” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “ Just sex. No investment? That’s like playing the lottery, Roar . The likelihood of winning is almost zero.”
Her gaze fell away from mine.
“It’s okay to be scared, Roar . Don’t let it stop you from going big.” I slipped my good arm around her waist. “ You’ll miss out on all the good things life has to offer.”
Aurora tucked herself beneath my chin and closed her eyes. “ I’ve never been scared like I was when Drew said you were in the hospital. Not when I went broke. Not when I lost my deal. Never .”
I pressed a kiss into her hair. “ And you want to pretend like this is nothing.”
“Don’t push me, Wharton ,” she teased. “ I’m finally coming around to you. Do you really want to lose all the progress you've made?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. She was stubborn as a mule, and it was cute. “ I think you came around a long time ago. You’re just finally brave enough to admit it.” I nipped at her lower lip. “ You can trust me, Roar . It’ll be our little secret.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked to get out of the conversation.
“Aurora—”
“Don’t push me, Jack ,” she said quickly. “ I need time.”
That was the one thing I was quickly running out of. The idea of Aurora packing up in a few weeks and giving me a taillight goodbye was a notion I couldn’t stomach.
“I feel fine,” I said, conceding for the moment. “ I could ditch the sling, but I know you’ll yell at me about it. The burns suck the most.”
“How’s your breathing?” she asked as she smoothed her hand over my chest.
“It gets harder and harder every time you’re near,” I said against her lips.
“Then maybe I should go,” Aurora whispered back.
“Baby, I can still toss you over one shoulder. You’re not going anywhere,” I retorted.
Aurora glanced at the clock on the wall. “ I still have some things I need to get done . . .” She chewed on her lip. “ And I want to write a little.”
I wanted to ask more about the book Aurora was working on, but she was cagey about it. I wasn’t the creative type, so I didn’t entirely understand the sanctity of the process, but I respected it. Part of me wondered what she would do when she wrote the last words. Publish it? Shelve it? Keep it in limbo?
She was too good to keep it to herself.
The spark was back, but I wanted to see her consumed by her passion.
“But you’re comfortable, and I’m suddenly wondering why I want to do all those things,” she said as she closed her eyes.
“All part of my master plan,” I said. “ Get you over here, make you drowsy, and take a long nap like two retirees.”
“I’d feel so guilty if I took a nap.”
“Why? Naps are the best. Especially when you have someone to nap with. Besides , in a few weeks when real life comes knocking, you won’t be able to.” I kissed her temple. “ Nap with me, Roar .”
She laughed. “ You don’t want my paint clothes in your bed.”
“Go steal something from my dresser. Or wear nothing. I’m fine with either. Frankly , I prefer nothing.”
She laughed as she crawled off my lap and headed into the bedroom.
I adjusted my dick as I listened to her rummage around. It sounded like she had found the drawer with my t-shirts, but everything fell silent.
“Jack?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I replied as I scrolled through my phone. Most of the unread messages were texts from the guys at the station, sending their well wishes.
She appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but an old charity kickball tournament t-shirt, and was cradling a photo album in her arms. “ What’s this?”
“You been snooping?” I teased as I eased off the couch.
Aurora rolled her eyes. “ It was sitting on top of your dresser. I don’t think that’s considered snooping.”
I readjusted the sling that suspended my arm enough to pull the pressure off my healing shoulder. “ It’s an old photo album that my parents gave me to hold on to when they downsized. Apparently , old memories were too much for them to take with them.”
Her expression softened. “ I’m so sorry . . .” She turned to put it back on the dresser, but I stopped her and took it from her.
We convened on the bed, Aurora sitting between my legs with the album on her lap. The first few pictures were baby photos. Aurora teased me about my chubby cheeks and busted-can-of-biscuits legs. There were pictures of early birthdays and milestone moments. When I was four, Lucas joined the pages. The two of us were thick as thieves, always testing our parents’ patience and sanity.
“You started to look more like yourself here,” Aurora said, pointing to a picture of me on the beach.
By my guess, I had been somewhere around nine or ten. “ That was a good summer,” I said as I perused the photos over her shoulder. “ We basically lived on the sand.”
“You didn’t grow up in this house, did you?”
I shook my head. “ We lived a little way down the beach. That house was destroyed during a hurricane a few years after my folks moved out. At the time I was living with Drew so I could save up to buy this place. Probably a good thing in hindsight. The storm took away the sad memories. But this has always been our strip of sand. We spent every waking moment on the beach when we were kids.”
I watched as she turned the page and stilled.
“What’s the matter?” I asked as I peeked over her shoulder.
"Where did you say this album was from?” she asked in a trembling whisper.
“My mom made it years ago. Why ?”
Her fingers smoothed over an old photo that was bleached and warped with age. “ Because that’s me.”
“What?” I laughed. “ That’s impossible. That’s? —”
“I remember that swimsuit. I was obsessed with it because it was covered in strawberries.”
I shook my head. “ It was probably just a popular swimsuit back then. I think I had the same swim trunks as every other boy in my class.”
“Jack, I’m serious,” she said. “ Look at my knee. My mom and I stayed at Aunt Juniper’s house for a week one summer. There was an old bike I tried to ride, and I ended up falling off and skinning my knee.” She shifted on the bed and bent her leg, showing me the lingering scar. It matched the angry red patch that had started to scab on the little girl in the photo.
I studied the picture again, letting nostalgia take me back in time. I remembered that summer, too. Lucas and I had been playing on the beach when we met a little girl who was a little older than him and a little younger than me. She was on vacation and wanted someone to play with since she didn’t have any brothers or sisters.
For seven days, we were inseparable. It was magic—the idyllic moments of childhood where there were no cares. Just the infinite expanse of possibilities and carefree joy.
Aurora peeled back the plastic protector and slid the photo out from the page. She turned it over and read the inscription my mom had left on the back.
Jack, 9. Lucas , 5. Juniper Whitlock’s great-niece, Aurora , 6.
“Told you,” she whispered. “ I just wish I remembered more of it. I get these bits and pieces like lightning flashes. I remember being here and hurting my knee. I remember it being the best summer ever. I didn’t make friends easily. Still don’t. So I was really excited when two kids let me play with them.”
I could hardly believe it either. There she was, my angel with a sunlit smile, covered in sand like it was pixie dust.
My brother was tucked under my arm with an ear-to-ear grin. The three of us looked like we had known each other for a hundred lifetimes. But that was the simplicity of childhood. It was pure, unmarred by the stress and reality of the world.
Aurora’s six-year-old eyes stared up at me like I'd hung the moon and stars.
That was the magic of the ocean, sand, and sun. The coastal world was limitless. A week might as well have been seven centuries.
There was something about seeing the two of us together as kids that made a funny feeling bubble up in my chest. How many happenstances had to happen before we admitted that chance was actually fate?
“I’m a little speechless,” I admitted.
Aurora just kept staring at the picture. “ Me too. I guess this is what they mean when they say a picture is worth a thousand words. And I’m really good with words.”
“I want you to admit something,” I said as I kissed the crook of her neck.
“What’s that?”
“I want you to admit that this . . . us . . . we were meant to be.”
I expected her to outright deny it. After all, Aurora was nothing if not stubborn. But to my surprise, she just nodded. “ I’m starting to think so.”