26. Aurora
AURORA
“Alright,” Austin says with a grin, holding up a tequila bottle. “Truth or drink. The rules are simple. If you lie, you drink. If you dodge, you drink. And if you cry, I film it.”
The rookies light up. I’m pretty sure they’re just here for the free booze. I still have no idea whose house this even is, but Isabella wanted to go out, and I’m never going to say no to a vodka cranberry and an excuse to get dressed up.
Across from me, Logan stretches an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing Nathan’s shoulder, and Nathan rolls his eyes. Those two bicker so much they may as well be related.
Ryan groans as he drags a hand down his face. “Why do all your games end with someone vomiting in the sink?”
“Tradition,” Austin says, shooting him a wink before pouring a shot and sliding it across the table to Miles. “Rookie’s turn. Don’t be lame.”
“Okay, okay.” His eyes light up as he looks around the circle. “Logan,” he says, smirking.
Logan’s pretty laid-back, so he just nods and says, “Shoot.”
Miles leans forward a little. “You ever hooked up with someone on the team?”
A few of the guys laugh, but Logan just grins, completely unbothered. Everyone knows he’s bi, but as far as any of us know, none of the other guys on the team are into men, which makes the question interesting.
For a second, I wonder if he’s into Logan and that’s why he asked. I honestly wouldn’t be shocked. Secret hook-ups aren’t exactly rare around here.
I would know.
“Define hook up,” Logan says, turning his cup between his fingers.
“Answer it or drink, rookie,” Austin says, pointing his own cup at him.
Logan rolls his eyes, and instead of giving everyone the answer they’re obviously dying for, he lifts the cup to his mouth and takes a sip.
My brows shoot up in surprise, because if the answer was no, he would’ve just said no… right?
Miles lets out a laugh, clearly having the exact same thought. “That’s definitely a yes. Who the hell was it?”
But Logan just shrugs, looking away. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Austin laughs and turns toward Ryan. “Alright, Captain,” he says, pouring tequila into a cup. “Truth or drink. What’s the weirdest place you and Isabella have hooked up?”
Isabella nearly inhales her drink. Maisie has to pat her on the back while she coughs. “Ryan,” she chokes out, eyes wide. “You better drink.”
Ryan looks at Austin, then at Isabella, and wisely knocks the shot back.
Austin laughs. “Come on. You can’t even tell me? Your best friend in the whole world?”
Ryan sighs. “You might’ve been… nearby,” he says.
Austin’s grin only gets bigger. “First time or second?”
“Austin,” Isabella says, a warning tone to her voice.
He throws his hands up, his eyes widening. “Sorry, baby Hayes. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” But literally not one second later, he locks eyes with Maisie and shoots her a wink. “I’ll tell you later, Freckles.”
Austin turns away to pour another shot, and I nudge Isabella with my elbow.
“So where was the weirdest place?” I ask her.
She sighs, her cheeks turning pink. “Austin might’ve caught us in a closet at the rink,” she whispers.
A laugh slips out of me. “Wow. Right under your dad’s nose.” I take a sip of my drink, grinning at her. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Did your dad ever find out?” Maisie asks, eyes wide.
“God, no.” Isabella looks horrified by the idea. “If he had, Ryan would be buried under the ice.”
I snort, then turn to Maisie. “What about you?” I ask, wiggling my brows. “Weirdest place?”
She goes pink instantly. “Um…” Her fingers twist around the edge of her plastic cup as her eyes flick toward the guys. “Probably Austin’s truck. Behind the diner.”
My jaw drops. “Maisie.”
She turns bright red. “It was late, okay? And it was raining, and we were waiting for the windshield to clear, and then we just—” She cuts herself off and shakes her head. “I’m not finishing that sentence.”
Isabella grins beside me. “Look at our girl,” she says, bumping her shoulder against Maisie’s.
I laugh into my drink. “Austin’s corrupting you.”
She tries to narrow her eyes at me, but it’s Maisie, so it comes out more cute than threatening—like a little puppy dog.
“What about you?” she asks.
I swirl the ice around in my drink, buying myself a second. “Um… behind a tree at the Halloween party.” I take a sip and watch both their eyes widen over the rim of my cup.
“Did anyone catch you?” Isabella asks, laughing.
I shake my head quickly. “God, no. I would’ve actually died.”
“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone,” she says. “Who is it?”
The answer sits right there, practically pushing at the back of my teeth while they both look at me, waiting, and God, I want to tell them. I really do. But I also know exactly how insane it would sound out loud.
Then one of my favorite songs comes on, and relief hits me so fast I could kiss the DJ.
My eyes widen and I grab Isabella’s arm. “Oh my God,” I say. “They’re playing Violet Riot.”
Maisie’s eyes widen. “The band you were trying to get tickets for?”
I groan into my drink. “Trying being the key word. They sold out in, like, thirty seconds.”
A scoff cuts across the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I turn my head and find Cole leaning in the doorway. “They’re overrated as shit,” he says. “Every song sounds exactly the same.”
I cut him a glare. “That’s rich coming from the guy whose entire playlist is just men rapping about cheating on girls and then acting like they’re the ones who got hurt.”
Miles snorts as he passes with a bowl of chips. “She got you there, man.”
Cole ignores him, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he looks at me, a smirk tugging at his mouth. I know that look. I know it well enough now to feel the flicker of it low in my stomach, because I’ve seen it up close while we spent the holidays together.
We spent the entire Christmas day together watching cheesy Christmas movies, eating popcorn, and I somehow even convinced him to bake cookies with me. It was weird, but I liked it. Way too much.
It was also exactly the distraction I needed, because spending the holidays without my mom felt wrong, and a heavy knot of guilt had been sitting in my chest all Christmas Eve.
But after the fight we had, I couldn’t handle sitting across from her while she listed out everything I’ve been terrified of happening for years.
I texted her Merry Christmas when I woke up, and after she texted back, I managed to build up the nerve to call her later in the day. We didn’t argue, which was a start, even if the silence was loud enough to remind me how much she disapproves of my choice to come to Colton U.
I spent the rest of the evening doing my best to push the conversation out of my head and just enjoy the rest of my Christmas. But when it finally got late, I refused to sleep over, because that would’ve made everything even more confusing.
We saw each other every single day after Christmas. Sometimes I went to his place, sometimes he came to mine. And then, a week later, on New Year’s, he texted me and told me to get dressed, and when he picked me up, he took me back to the abandoned bowling alley.
Only this time, the place had been cleaned up, lit up, and was packed with people. He introduced me to some of the guys from his boxing gym, and it shouldn’t have felt as big as it did.
But it did.
It felt like… we were something to each other.
Ten minutes before midnight, he took me up to the roof, and we sat there drinking champagne while fireworks burst over the city.
I still remember the way my stomach flipped when his eyes dropped to my lips as the countdown started.
I kept thinking this was it. That he was finally going to do it. I wet my lips and waited, every second dragging more than the last.
But when the clock struck midnight, he looked back out at the fireworks instead and my shoulders dropped. I should have known Cole wouldn’t kiss me because I’d made that rule, and even if he was usually an asshole, that was the one thing he never pushed. He always respected what I wanted.
And I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to forget the rules, because then my heart would be out, exposed for him to take in his hand and crush.
The more time I spent with him, the less he felt like Reaper and the more he just felt like Cole. Someone I looked for. Someone I wanted.
But sometimes I still wonder if I’ll always just be Viper to him.
I used to think all that hatred came from the fact that I was Chase’s girlfriend.
He hated Chase, so by default, he hated me too.
But I haven’t been Chase’s girlfriend for months, and I still catch that look in his eyes sometimes, as if every time he touches me, some part of him thinks he’s betraying himself.
I want to ask him what I did, what happened, what it is about me that makes him look at me the way he does sometimes, but I’m too scared of the answer.
Too scared he’ll remember whatever grudge he’s been carrying around all this time and decide he’s done with me for good.
This thing between us is going to end eventually. I know that.
I’m just not ready for that day to be now.
Cole lifts his beer and keeps his eyes on me over the neck of the bottle, and God, he looks unfairly good.
Brown leather jacket. Black shirt. Jeans.
That tattooed hand wrapped around the glass, and my traitorous brain immediately goes to the feeling of that same hand around my throat.
I’ve always liked necklaces, but none of them ever looked that good on me.
He turns and heads for the drink table.
“Is it just me, or have the insults calmed down a little?” Isabella asks with a laugh.
“Thank God,” Ryan mutters, shaking his head.
I smirk into my drink. “I just don’t have the energy for Cole right now,” I say. “I’ve got more important things to be stressing about.”
“Like the art showcase?” Isabella asks, smiling. “Have you decided if you’re doing it?”
Maisie’s brows pull together. “Wait. What showcase?”