29. Aurora
29
AURORA
GIRL TALK AND GUILLOTINES
“C edar Island , we have a problem,” I shouted as I hurried inside the house and found Whitney and Willow sprawled out on the couches.
I had to admit—the place looked nice. There was still a laundry list of little things that needed to be done, but the big ones—paint, floors, roof, plumbing, electric, and siding—were done.
The renovations had gone surprisingly well. I delegated the big tasks to professionals, but did everything else that I could myself. My arms were always sore, my skin was sunburned from landscaping no matter how much sunscreen I slathered on, and I was fairly certain my lungs were lined with dust.
But it was almost done. The finish line was in sight. Which was exactly why I didn’t care that I needed to get back to replacing all the old electrical outlets and light switch covers, and was on a warpath to my girls.
I froze. “ Where’s Miles ?”
“Present,” Miles sing-songed as he jogged down the stairs. “ What’s with the frown, Wander ? Do you need to be turned upside down?”
Willow giggled under her breath. “ More like she wants Jack to turn her organs upside down, but she has house guests.”
“Not denying it, but that’s not the current problem.”
Whitney raised an eyebrow. “ What’s the problem?”
“Jack wants to take me on a date.”
The ladies and Miles exchanged confused looks, but Willow was the first to speak up. “ Forgive me for stating the obvious, but why is that a problem? That’s kind of what happens when you date someone. I fear this is common sense, Wander .”
“We’re fucking. We’re not dating. Big difference.”
“Awww!” Whitney’s expression softened as she closed her laptop. “ Is this your first official date with him?”
“Hell yeah!” Miles gave me a high five. “ Way to fall in love, champ.”
“I mean, we’ve done date stuff, just not in a date way,” I countered. “ Dinner , but it’s takeout while we work on the house. Walks on the beach, but it’s so we can get fresh air after breathing in paint fumes. Movies , but it’s so we have background noise while we bang.”
“Do people still say bang?” Willow asked.
“Focus! Date ! How do I say no?!”
“You don’t,” Willow said with a laugh. “ You put on something cute, fix your hair, and let him show you off. Where’s he taking you?”
“Some fancy restaurant down the coast,” I huffed. “ Why can’t I say no?”
“Because you want to go. You’re just scared that it means you have real feelings for him,” Whitney said.
Willow nodded. “ Spoiler alert: you do.”
I growled under my breath as I stomped to my bedroom to get fucking dressed. “ You guys are no help. I didn’t bring date clothes. I have shorts and tank tops and more shorts and more tank tops.”
“Raid my suitcase,” Whitney said. “ Steal whatever you want.”
I turned and narrowed my gaze. “ Did Ophelia pack for you?”
Whitney grinned from ear to ear and nodded. “ Yep ,” she popped the p in the most self-satisfied way because she knew I couldn’t resist her assistant’s fancy taste in clothes.
The girls descended on me while Miles led the charge.
I was unceremoniously shoved into a chair to give yeses and nos on outfits presented to me by Whitney . Hands descended into my hair, digging into the bun that was mostly wilted after a day of North Carolina humidity.
I shrieked as the elastic was yanked out of the tangles. “ What the hell?”
“Just sit back and relax, boss lady. I’ve got your back,” Miles said as he took a comb to the knots. “ Literally .”
Whitney nodded as she came out holding a little number in black dancing from a hanger. “ It’s true. He styles all my wigs these days, and does my hair when I’m feeling lazy. Marriage is awesome.”
“You lucked out,” Willow said as she sorted through her tackle box of makeup and my sparse cosmetic bag. “ A bodyguard, personal trainer, husband, and hair stylist all in one.”
“He’s a pretty good cook too,” Whitney chimed in as she plucked a pair of high heels out of her tractor-trailer of a suitcase. “ And great at finding coffee in an airport.”
“Hell yeah I am,” Miles said as he came at me with Willow’s curling iron. “ Jack’s gonna love being a part of the WWs . It takes a strong man to be one of the girls.”
“Is this my movie makeover montage?” I asked as foundation was smeared on my face and blended out by Willow while Miles sectioned my hair, curled each piece, then pinned it up to cool.
“No,” Willow snapped defensively. “ You can’t get the dead aunt cliché and a movie makeover montage. That’s not fair. The dead aunt cliché is awesome on its own.”
“It’s totally a makeover montage,” Miles said.
“Ah yes.” I coughed as powder plumed from the makeup brush, sealing my face down. “ Because splinters and blisters are so sexy. Why couldn’t I have gotten the bodyguard cliché like Whitney did?”
“Hmm,” Whitney hummed. “ Psycho stalker, kidnapping, third-degree burns, head trauma, and nightmares. Shall I go on? It’s definitely not sexy. Take the dead lady’s cool house.” Her voice was light and jovial, but I didn’t miss the way she glanced down at the deep burn scars circling her wrists like macabre bracelets as she looked through our collective jewelry options.
“Fair,” I said.
Miles finished setting my hair and jogged to get the hairspray. He paused where Whitney was laying out the three final outfit options on the bed and kissed her lips, then lifted her hands and kissed each scarred wrist.
“Now that’s a moment,” Willow said, her words staying just between us.
“They’re perfect for each other.”
“Sorry to say, but we’re going to suffocate you, gorgeous,” Miles said as he uncapped the hairspray at the same time Willow came at me with makeup setting spray.
“Don’t breathe!” Willow warned before dousing me.
The cool mist felt divine. Miles tossed the hairspray can onto the bed, grabbed an Aurora Archer paperback, and used it as a fan to dry my face. I glanced in the mirror and was shocked at the woman staring back at me. “ You two should go into business together.”
Willow and Miles high-fived.
After a unanimous committee decision that Whitney’s little black dress was a classic, Miles was kicked out while they undressed, re-dressed, and accessorized me like a storefront mannequin.
He reappeared, carrying a pair of expensive stilettos, while Whitney strangled me with a necklace.
“I can’t wear those,” I blurted out. “ I’ll trip and fall on my face.”
“They’re not so bad,” Whitney said as Miles knelt in front of me and slid them onto my feet like I was Cinderella trying on the glass slipper.
Miles offered his hand for support as I stood and found my balance, but I immediately toppled over.
“Easy for you to say,” I wheezed as I was placed back on my feet by Miles and Willow .
“Don’t look down at your feet,” Whitney said, mother-henning me as she brushed non-existent lint off the spaghetti straps kissing my shoulders. “ Look straight ahead and walk heel to toe.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Roar? You ready?” Jack called as he let himself into the house.
“No!” I shouted.
“She’s ready!” Whitney yelled over me.
“I’m not!”
“Do you need a pep talk?” Miles asked.
“No, I need flip-flops and soft pants,” I whined.
“Too late! Go out with your five-alarm fire and be ready to dish all the dirty details when you get back,” Willow said as she shoved me out of the bedroom.
Jack stood in the living room wearing a pair of neatly pressed khakis and a breathable white button-up that was cuffed at the elbows. His hair was slicked in a style that reminded me of old Hollywood heartthrobs. The peonies in his hand made my heart melt.
“Wow,” he whispered as he looked me up and down. “ You look . . . wow."
Whitney and Willow high-fived each other.
“The girls did it,” I blurted out as nerves began to take over my cognitive function. “ It’s not even my dress. Or my shoes. They’re Whitney’s assistant’s. I should probably change. Ophelia is terrifying and if something happens to them, she’ll probably use me to sharpen her guillotine. I don’t know if she has a guillotine. She seems like the type. If you knew her, you’d probably agree. Then again, guillotines are messy. No one ever talks about the blood. How far does it spray? Is there a splash zone? What if the blade isn’t sharp enough? Does it just break the person’s neck or?—”
Jack’s mouth was on mine, muffling my spiral.
Jack was kissing me.
Jack was grabbing my ass in front of my friends.
The paper-wrapped bouquet hit the floor as he scooped me up like a bride.
“Have a good night, kids!” Whitney called out as Jack carried me to the door.
“Make good choices!” Miles hollered.
“Or don’t!” Willow hollered.
“Goddamn . . . You look incredible, baby,” Jack said as soon as we were out the door.
We bobbed back and forth as he carried me down the stairs. “ Thank you for not throwing me over your shoulder or dragging me out like firefighters are supposed to.”
Jack chuckled. “ Can you just take the compliment? I’m trying to tell you how beautiful you are. Stop deflecting and just say thank you.”
My cheeks pinkened and, for once, it wasn’t because of the summer sun. “ Thank you.”
He gracefully deposited me in the passenger’s seat of his truck and slammed the door. But instead of hopping behind the wheel, he went back inside. A minute later, he was jogging back down the stairs and jumping into the truck.
“What was that for?” I asked as I fastened my seatbelt.
Jack produced my flip flops. “ Figured you’d wanna be comfortable in between looking sexy as hell.”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “ My hero.” I wiggled the high heels off and slid my feet into blissfully comfortable foam. “ The girls probably went overboard. I feel way overdressed. I just started freaking out and they swooped in.”
He put the truck in reverse and began to back out of the driveway. “ You’re not overdressed, Aurora .”
It was funny how I used to cringe whenever someone called me by my name. I always preferred Wander . Somehow , Jack had made it my favorite word to hear.
I pulled at the hem that stopped mid-thigh. “ I never dress up like this.”
His smile was easy as he draped his arm across the back of the seat and trailed his fingers across my shoulder like he always did. “ You could wear a paper bag or paint clothes or a snowsuit or nothing at all and it’d be just as sexy. I like seeing all the different sides of you. I like seeing you get out of your comfort zone and explore every facet of who you are.”
I sat a little taller.
“I think you’re sexiest when you’re feeling challenged.” He shifted his one-handed grip on the steering wheel. “ It’s why I like seeing you work on the house. It’s a giant puzzle and I get to watch you solve it. It’s why I like watching you when you write. You have this look of determination that I see in Olympians .”
“Jack . . .”
“I’m serious, Roar . You know what I like most about you? You have this . . . This ‘figure it out’ mentality. You show up at a house that doesn’t have power and you get a grill going to make some food. You didn’t know how to do half the stuff that needed to be done in the house, but you did your research, failed a little, learned a lot, and the house is like new. You pulled yourself out of writer’s block because you had to figure out what the pages your aunt hid in the house meant. Then you stuck with it and kept writing in spite of everything you went through. I love that about you. I swear you could do anything you set your mind to simply because you refuse to fail. Your stubbornness is sexy.”
“I finished it,” I admitted.
The truck came to a screeching halt in the middle of the two-lane road. Jack looked over at me. “ You finished—wait. You don’t mean . . .”
Pride crept across my chest like morning glory vines that kept coming back to life no matter how much they were cut down. “ I finished the book. The one I was supposed to write after Petrichor . The day after my surprise party, you had your first shift back at work, so Whitney , Willow , and I got snacks and had a writing marathon and ended up pulling an all-nighter. That’s why I came over and slept with you this morning when you got off duty. And then you asked me out on a real date, and I kind of freaked out. But that’s beside the point. I mean, the book is total shit, and it’ll need loads of editing, and I don’t even know what I’m going to do with it, but I finished it. That’s gotta count for something.”
Jack fisted the back of my hair and kissed me right there in the middle of the road. A horn honked behind us as we pulled apart. Jack stuck his hand out the window and offered an apologetic wave to the other driver as they swerved around us.
“You’re incredible,” he said as he wiped my lip to tidy up the lipstick he had impulsively smeared.
I pulled down the visor and flipped open the mirror to check my appearance as Jack eased onto the gas before we got rear-ended.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Roar .”
And I believed him.
“But why were you freaking out about going on a date? We go out all the time.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “ Because you see me. And being known is one of the most terrifying and exhilarating senses."