33. Cole
COLE
Ilean back on my hands and watch as Aurora smooths her hand over the back of her jeans for what has to be the fifth time in the last two minutes. She tugs down her top and buttons her blue cardigan and then unbuttons it.
Most people would probably think she’s just fussing with her clothing because she’s into fashion, but I know her. I can see the tension in her shoulders from the way her mouth presses flat, can see how nervous she is by how she can’t stand still.
She adjusts the hem of her top one last time, exhales through her nose, then turns around to face me.
“Is this okay?”
There’s a crease between her brows I want to smooth out with my finger and press my lips to. I know how nervous she is, and I wish there was something I could do to ease those nerves.
I push off my elbows and reach for her hand, tugging her closer until she’s standing between my knees.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, sliding my hands to her waist and pulling her in, pressing a kiss to her stomach where her top has ridden.
She lets out a breath above me, her fingers brushing through my hair, and I kiss her again, because no matter how many times I touch her, it’s never enough.
“I’ve just been thinking about this day for so long,” she says. “I’m scared of what’ll happen.”
Aurora doesn’t get nervous. She usually gets mean, throws out some cutting comment, and acts like she couldn’t care less. So the fact that she’s standing here between my knees, letting me see this instead of covering it up with attitude, does something to me. Makes me feel protective over her.
I push to my feet and tip her chin up until she looks at me. “Any man should count himself lucky just to know you, Prescott.”
Her eyes lift to mine, her brows pulling together slightly, and I just stand there looking at her, hit all over again by how much has changed.
How she leans into me now without even thinking about it.
How I’m the one she lets see this side of her, and Christ, I love that.
Love being the one she comes to. Love that somewhere along the way, this girl who used to look at me like I was the last person on earth she’d ever trust started handing me the most vulnerable parts of herself.
A smile pulls at my mouth, which only makes her narrow her eyes at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
I shake my head, because there’s no way I’m saying any of the shit in my head right now, so I go with, “Just thinking about how lucky I am that you decided to be a stripper for a day.”
She scoffs and shoves at my chest. “You’re an idiot.”
There’s my girl.
I let my gaze drift over her face a little slower this time, and some of the amusement slips out of me when I catch the nerves still there. I hate that one person makes her this nervous when the girl standing in front of me usually walks into a room like she owns it without even trying.
My thumb brushes over her cheek, and her eyes flutter for a second as the smallest smile tugs at her mouth.
Fuck, I could look at her forever.
I never saw this coming. I had no idea how obsessed I’d be over every version of Aurora. Not just the vicious one who runs her mouth, but the soft side, too. The one she only lets out when it’s just me and her and she forgets to keep all that armor strapped on so tight.
I catch her chin before she can pull away and kiss her.
Her hands slide up my chest and loop around my neck, and she just sinks into me, some of the tension leaving her body as she softens in my hands.
I pull back slightly, our lips still brushing together as we breathe. “If you need me, call.” My hand tightens on her hip. “I mean it. I’m here for you. Always.”
She lifts her eyes to mine and nods.
I kiss her again because I can’t help it. Because she’s standing right in front of me, and I’m so far gone for her at this point there’s no point pretending otherwise. My mouth lingers on hers in one more slow kiss, then another at the corner of her mouth when she breathes out against me.
She lets out a shaky little laugh and presses her palm to my chest. “Okay. I need to go.”
“One more,” I murmur, pressing my lips to hers again.
When I finally let her go, she takes a step back and smooths her hands over her hair, pulling in a deep breath before she turns for the door and slips out.
I stay where I am for a second, staring at the space she just left behind and hoping to hell it goes the way she expects.
I blow out a breath and turn around, only to stop when I take in the disaster zone that is my room—my bed, my floor, and the chair with Aurora’s clothes still scattered all over it.
Should it freak me out that half her stuff is here and she’s practically moved in? Probably. Do I like it and hope she never leaves? Hell yeah.
I pick up the clothes she tossed aside while getting ready, folding them and setting them on the chair, and when I hear a knock at the door, my brows pull together. For a second, I wonder if Aurora forgot something. Maybe her bag, or maybe she just wanted another kiss before she left.
The thought makes me smile as I head for the door, but the second I pull it open and see my sister standing there, it drops straight off my face.
She has the green school bag I bought her for Christmas hanging off one shoulder, and my stomach sinks, because I know there isn’t a good reason for her to be here.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, her bottom lip wobbling. “I know I should’ve called first, but… you said if I needed anything, I could come to you.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. “What happened?”
She doesn’t answer me. She just shrugs the backpack off her shoulder and lets it hit the floor before stepping into me and wrapping her arms around my middle.
I freeze. Sophie hasn’t hugged me like this in years. Not since she was little. My heart starts pounding, and I wrap my arms around her, one hand coming up to the back of her head, and when she buries her face in my chest, I feel her start to shake.
“Dad hit me,” she mumbles.
My heart pounds against my chest, but all I can do is hold her while she cries against me, because if I let myself react before she’s done, I’m going to lose my mind.
Fuck. This isn’t happening.
How did I miss this? How the fuck was I busy being happy while my sister was still stuck in that house with him? How did I let myself get so distracted that she got hit and I didn’t see it coming?
I should’ve been paying attention.
I should’ve checked in more.
I should’ve noticed.
I pull back enough to look down at her, keeping my hands on her shoulders as I search her face.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
She shrugs, wiping at her eyes. “You’ve been busy.”
Guilt twists hard in my stomach, because she’s right.
Looking after her is my job. Instead, I got so caught up in Aurora, in finally having something I actually wanted, that I let myself stop listening for everything else. Stopped checking my phone every five seconds. Stopped bracing for the worst.
And Sophie paid for it.
I shut the door behind her and take her bag from where it fell, setting it on the chair.
“Has he done this before?”
She glances back at me and chews on her lip, but she doesn’t answer, and my pulse starts racing.
“Soph,” I say, my voice turning hard. “Don’t lie to me.”
Her gaze drops to the floor and my stomach drops with it. God, I feel like I’m going to be sick. “He’s… pushed me a few times, but…” Her eyes lift to mine, shining with tears that hit me like a punch to the chest. “Not like this.”
I let out a shaky breath, my fists clenching beside me, wanting nothing more than to drive over there and punch him until he can’t hurt anyone ever again. But I know I can’t. I need to be here for Sophie. Need to behave and do right by her. She needs me and I can’t let her down… again.
There’s a part of me that wants to call Aurora and wants her to come over so I can feel her presence beside me, which always seems to calm me down, and it makes my stomach turn.
Because I still want her. I still want to hear her voice and feel her hands on me and let her tell me what to do next, and that just makes me angrier.
Makes me feel weak. Makes me feel like the biggest idiot alive.
Because I shouldn’t want to call her.
Not when she’s the reason I never got custody of Sophie.
I never liked Chase. He was a rich prick who walked around like money made him untouchable.
But I never really had an issue with Aurora.
Back then, she was just his girlfriend. His hot, mouthy girlfriend who was always at his games, flicking her hair over her shoulder, and occasionally sending a chirp our way.
Other than that, she barely existed to me.
Until that night, when I saw his hand wrapped around her arm and the way she flinched.
I wasn’t looking at Chase Johnson anymore. All I could see was my dad. Every slammed door. Every bruise on my face. Every night Sophie hid in her room while I stood outside it feeling fucking useless. Every time I’d been too small, too young, too late to do a damn thing.
I just lost it.
One second he was standing there, and the next he was on the ground with me on top of him, driving my fists into his face.
I didn’t stop.
Couldn’t.
Not until someone dragged me off him and the cops were cuffing me and shoving me into the back of a car while my chest heaved and blood filled my mouth and I still wanted to get free and go back for more.
And when I looked up and saw the look of disgust on Aurora’s face staring back at me, I knew she’d been the one to call them.
It didn’t matter what he did. Didn’t matter that I was trying to protect her. All that mattered after that was that I was the violent one. The guy with the temper. The guy who got into a physical altercation and therefore clearly wasn’t fit to take custody of my sister.
So Sophie stayed at home with the same monster who just hit her.
The pressure in my chest builds so fast it makes it hard to breathe, and I squeeze my eyes shut, dragging both hands down my face, but it doesn’t do a fucking thing.
If anything, it only makes it worse, because now all I can think about is how stupid I’ve been.
Letting Aurora in. Letting her matter. Letting myself get soft enough to forget, even for a second, what that night cost me.
I should’ve never let it get this far.
Should’ve kept her exactly where she belonged—out of my head, out of my bed, out of my life.
Instead, I let myself want her. Let myself trust her. Let myself fall in love with the sound of her laugh and the way she looks at me and the way she feels in my arms.
And for what?
So I can stand here with my sister crying in my apartment.
Fuck that.
Fuck the way she got under my skin. Fuck the way I let myself forget. Fuck every kiss, every night, every second I spent acting like any of this didn’t matter.
It mattered.
It cost me Sophie once already.
I can’t let myself get distracted anymore.
And I sure as hell can’t let it be by her.