26. Aurora #2
“It’s not a big deal.” I wave her off. “Just some campus thing. A bunch of artists submit pieces, and they pick a few to hang in the student gallery.”
Maisie’s jaw drops. “Aurora, that sounds amazing. You have to do it. Then when you’re famous, I get to tell people I knew you first.”
Isabella points her cup at me. “Your art is way too good to stay hidden in your room.”
God, I hate how much I love them.
“Fine,” I mutter, because there’s no winning once the two of them gang up on me. “I’ll submit something.”
They both grin, and I take another sip, my eyes drifting across the room, toward where Cole had been standing.
Except now he’s not alone.
My stomach clenches the second I see a girl talking to him, smiling up at him with her hand on his arm. Cole just stands there with his head bent toward her, and something burns under my ribs.
Girls have always been around him. Before we started sleeping together, during it, probably after it too. I know exactly who he is. I knew before I ever touched him. So why does the sight of her standing there with him make it feel as if something just drove straight through my chest?
He told me he wasn’t seeing anyone else, but that didn’t mean he didn’t start to. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still hooking up with other people. There was no exclusivity talk, because all we do is fuck. It’s all I’m ever good for, apparently.
Spending every day with him over the holidays was a mistake.
Now I’m in too deep, and I’ve got nobody to blame but myself.
I will myself to snap out of it, reminding myself I swore I’d never let a man get under my skin again.
“I need another drink,” I mutter, but the girls barely hear me, too busy talking to their boyfriends, who are looking at them as if they’re everything, while every man in my life eventually walks out on me.
I reach for the vodka and pour some into my cup, then top it off with cranberry juice. I’ve barely taken a sip when I catch Cole moving toward me out of the corner of my eye.
“Careful,” he says, his hand settling at the small of my back while he reaches past me for a fresh red cup. “At this rate, you’ll be drinking out of the bottle.”
I ignore him, take another sip, and turn to walk away from him, but he follows.
“Why are you rushing away from me?”
“Just not in the mood to talk to you.”
He scoffs. “Since when?”
“Since always,” I snap as I keep walking.
He steps in front of me, blocking my path, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah?” he says. “Must’ve gotten confused, considering you were riding my face two days ago.”
My eyes widen and I tug him into a quiet corner, shoving him back until he hits the wall. “Shh,” I hiss, glancing around with my heart in my throat. “Are you actually out of your mind?”
There are people everywhere. Anyone could’ve heard that. But Cole just looks amused, smirking down at me. “So now you want to talk to me.”
“No,” I snap, stepping back. “I don’t.”
“Mhm.” His eyes dip to my mouth, then lift again. “You sure about that, Prescott?”
Something at my side makes me look over, and I find the brunette from before standing there, her eyes moving between us with a confused frown.
“I’m not fighting you for his attention,” I say. “You can have him.”
I turn on my heel, but I only make it to the bottom of the stairs before fingers close around my wrist and spin me around. “Don’t do this,” he grits out. “Don’t make up some bullshit in your head and then get pissed at me for it.”
“I’m not making anything up. I know what I am to you. I know you hate yourself for wanting me. So congratulations. Your conscience is clear, because this? Whatever the hell this is? It’s over.”
Something shifts in his face. “Like hell it is.”
I lift a shoulder, even with my pulse hammering. “You don’t want to want me? Great. Lucky you.” I jerk my hand back toward the brunette. “Go sleep with her. If you haven’t already.”
I move to step past him and head up the stairs.
“I didn’t sleep with her,” he says, following me.
“Good for you.”
“I don’t even know her name.”
“Don’t care.”
“Goddamn it,” he bites out, catching me as soon as we’re at the top and hauling me back toward him.
“What do you want me to say, Aurora?” he spits out.
“That I came here tonight for you? That I hate parties and small talk and this cheap alcohol, and yet I keep showing up. Over and over.” His throat bobs.
“Because there’s a chance you’ll be there? ”
My breath catches in my throat when his eyes drop to my mouth, tugging me that tiny inch closer until my chest brushes his, but before I can get a word out, his hand slides in mine and he heads down the hallway, trying every door until he finds one unlocked.
The second the door shuts, he crowds me back until my hips hit the edge of the dresser. His hands are already under my top, shoving it higher impatiently.
“You drive me insane,” he murmurs against my skin, throwing my top to the floor. “I swear to God, Prescott, I can’t think straight when you’re near me.”
He palms my ass through the skirt, squeezing hard, making my breath catch, every part of me wanting him so bad that all rational thinking flies out the window.
“Turn around,” he grits out, and I do, bracing my hands on the dresser.
He bunches my skirt higher around my hips and drags my panties down my legs, spreading me open and groaning at the sight. “You really think I want anyone else?” he mutters, sliding his thumb through my pussy. “You think I can stand looking at anyone else?”
I wish I had something better to say, but all that comes out is a shaky breath as my hips tilt toward him. He drops to his knees, holding me exactly where he wants me as he drags his tongue against me, devouring me.
Some men really can’t eat pussy. Cole Ellis, unfortunately, is obscenely good at it.
“Fuck,” I moan, my nails scraping the wood as he licks me until my legs buckle.
He stands and slaps my ass, pulling a gasp out of me. I hear his belt hit the floor, and then his cock nudges at my entrance before he pushes inside me, slow and deep, filling me so fully my vision blurs.