20. Cole
COLE
Practice should’ve wiped me out enough that my head was empty. Usually, by the time I’m peeling off my gear, my brain finally shuts the hell up for a minute.
Not today.
Today, every second I spend yanking off pads and shoving them into my bag, all I can think about is her.
Three times last week.
Three goddamn times I’ve had Aurora when I told myself the Halloween party would be the last.
I didn’t mean to fuck her when I dropped her off after the tattoo. But apparently, being alone with Aurora for more than five minutes without ending up buried inside her is impossible.
I told myself I’d get her out of my head. I’d be able to take all that frustration and fuck it out of both of us. Instead, the second I pushed into her, I knew I was fucked. Knew it before I’d even pulled out. There was no chance that was the end of it.
No chance in hell I was done with her.
So I got her number from Ryan a few days later—who gave me a weird look but, thankfully, kept his mouth shut—and told her to come over.
Honestly, I expected her to tell me to go fuck myself.
Instead, she showed up at my door in the skimpiest dress I’ve ever seen. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed tearing clothes off someone more in my life.
The second time, she texted me, You up? and I was out the door a minute later, already on my bike. As soon as I found her at some party, she grabbed my shirt, dragged me down the hall, and shoved me into an empty room.
I can still see the mark of my hand on her ass when she turned to check herself in the mirror and called me a sadist. I stood there in the doorway, watching her, and all I could think about was sinking my teeth into that same spot just so I could soothe it with my tongue afterward.
And the third time was Saturday night at the bar. I was already there when she walked in wearing ripped jeans and a black top that clung to every curve.
I watched every head turn as she made her way to the bar, acting like she didn’t notice the attention even though she definitely did.
Some idiot decided to try his luck and went up to her with a teasing smile and slung an arm around her.
I couldn’t hear what he said, but I sure as shit saw the way Aurora peeled his hand off her, then said something that made his face drop and retreat to his friends after being rejected.
And fuck, it made me hard as a rock watching her shut him down like it was nothing. I finished my drink, pulled out my phone, and texted her to meet me outside.
One minute I was at the back of the bar, smoking by myself. The next, she was in front of me, dropping to her knees.
After she sucked me dry, I tucked myself back into my jeans and walked back inside, trying to look like nothing had happened. I barely made it back to the table before a redhead slid into the empty spot beside me.
For the life of me I can’t remember what she was talking about—something about my tattoos, probably—but I let her keep talking, because what the hell else was I supposed to do in front of the guys?
Tell her to get lost because I’d just been on the receiving end of the hottest blowjob of my life by the girl I’m supposedly enemies with?
Yeah, no way in hell was I doing that.
Aurora came back in a couple of minutes later and paused when she saw the redhead beside me. I held her gaze, expecting her to make a scene, or at least look pissed. Instead, she just went back to her friends.
For some reason, that pissed me off more than anything that has ever come out of her mouth.
It’s not like I wanted her to get jealous.
Jealousy would mean expectations, and we both know expectations are a death sentence to whatever this is.
But the entire night, I kept finding her in the crowd, waiting—hoping—for her to look at me.
To acknowledge me. To give me… something.
A glare, a smirk, a challenge. Fucking anything.
She didn’t look at me once.
Eventually I walked out and headed home.
I still don’t know if I was more pissed at her for acting like nothing happened, or at myself for wanting her to react.
You’d think that after having her, after learning every sound she makes, I’d be bored. Instead, she’s only gotten deeper, working her way under my skin and straight into my veins.
Aurora Prescott is a drug, and I’m getting terrible at pretending I’m not addicted.
I drop onto the bench in front of my locker, roll my shoulders, and start unstrapping my pads while the guys talk about something across the room. I usually tune their bullshit out without even trying.
Not today.
“Guess who has a date with Aurora,” Holden says, making my spine straighten and every muscle in my body tighten.
Miles lets out a laugh as he tosses his gloves into his duffel. “Please don’t tell me you stalked her until she said yes.”
“No,” he says with a scoff, shoving his chest. “I ran into her after class yesterday. Asked what happened at movie night since she bailed. She said she felt a headache coming on, so she left.” He shrugs, but a grin pulls at his mouth.
“So I asked if she wanted to get coffee sometime, and she said yeah.”
Miles’s brows shoot up. “No shit?”
“Tomorrow,” Holden says, still grinning as he tugs off his jersey. “We’re going to that café off campus.”
“Look at that, rookie’s got game,” Austin cuts in, clapping him on the shoulder.
“We learned from the best,” Miles says as he balls up a sock and throws it across the room at Logan.
Logan startles, blinks out of whatever daydream he was in when the sock hits him, and flips him off, narrowing his eyes.
Most of the guys are stuffing their gear into bags and heading out of the locker room while I stay right where I am, my pulse pounding.
She’s going on a date with my fucking teammate.
A bitter laugh leaves me. This has to be because of what happened at the bar. She’s been blowing me off ever since, and now she’s getting coffee with Holden.
I grab my phone from the top shelf, my thumbs moving before my brain has a chance to step in.
Me:
You’re so fucking petty.
I keep my eyes on the screen, watching the read receipt appear almost instantly under her name.
Aurora:
You misspelled pretty.
Jesus Christ. This woman drives me out of my mind.
Me:
You’re going on a date with Holden?
She takes her sweet time answering. Long enough for the locker room to empty out around me, one guy after another heading out without even noticing I’m still sitting there.
Aurora:
Yeah. So?
My thumb moves before I can stop it.
Me:
No you’re not.
I stare at it the second I hit send, immediately regretting it. Especially when she replies a few seconds later.
Aurora:
Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve missed the part where whoever I fuck needs your approval. Especially when you were looking pretty cozy with that redhead at the bar less than two minutes after I had your dick in my mouth.
I stare at the screen until the words start to blur. Heat crawls up the back of my neck, under my collar, all through me.
She cared.
I have no idea why that loosens something in my chest, but it does.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard because the first things that come into my head are exactly the things I can’t say.
I want to tell her I didn’t want that girl. Not for a single second. That I was still half out of my mind from the feel of her mouth on me, and all I wanted after was to drag her out of that bar, get her alone, and spend the rest of the night between her legs until she forgot her own name.
Yeah. Not a chance I’m saying that.
I grind my teeth, shove down every reckless thought scrambling to get out, and type something else instead.
Me:
Text me when you stop being a brat.
Aurora:
Guess this is goodbye forever then.
I shake my head, toss my phone into my locker, and drag a hand through my damp hair. When I glance around, the locker room’s empty. The rookies cleared out. Austin and Ryan are gone. Even Logan and Nathan’s stalls are abandoned. Perfect. That means I can take as long as I want in the shower.
I peel off the rest of my gear, grab my towel and shampoo, and head into the showers, already picturing the heat loosening the knots in my muscles and—
“Fuck, I can feel how bad you want it. You gonna come all over me, baby?”
I freeze mid-step, my brows knitting.
The fuck?
A low groan echoes from one of the shower stalls. “God, you’re such a fucking tease.”
My brows shoot up at the sound of Nathan’s voice.
“I swear to God, Logan, if you stop now—”
I scramble backward, but my shampoo bottle falls to the tile, echoing throughout the showers. I snatch it up straight away and head out before they figure out I’m here. Whatever the hell is going on in there is none of my business.
I duck back into the locker room, get dressed in record time, and head out the back door, climbing onto my bike.
The second I get home, I toss my keys onto the counter, drop my helmet on the bed, and strip out of my clothes on the way to the bathroom, stepping straight into the shower.
When I finally climb out, I reach for my phone when Sophie’s name lights up the screen. I swipe it open and find a picture of a tuna sandwich.
Leaning back against the counter, I drag a hand over my face, my shoulders dropping. I told her to send me pictures of what she eats so I know she’s not skipping her meals again. After Dad stole the money she had stashed, I wired her more money and told her to hide it better this time.
I picked up extra hours at Ink’d Out. Took on a couple of big pieces that left my back screaming and my wrist cramped, but the pay was decent, and if it means my sister can eat, then I’m good with whatever work I need to do.
I send a quick text telling her I love her and then toss the phone onto the bed, shoving a new piece of gum in my mouth before I open my dresser to grab a fresh shirt.
Flash told me I didn’t need to come into the shop today, that I’d racked up enough hours for the week, but staying in this apartment means sitting alone with my thoughts.
It’s also boring as shit and I’d much rather be inking.