44. Aurora
AURORA
I wrap in a blanket, climb onto Jackson’s lap, and fall fast asleep.
A raspy voice rouses me, and gentle fingers stroke the side of my neck. “Hey, baby. We’ve arrived.”
I groan. “I don’t wanna get up. I’m perfect right here.”
His chest feels safe and warm, and breathing him in shoots happiness straight to my brain. He smells like his usual irresistible cologne and a bit of me. It’s heaven. Plus, my body is begging for rest, utterly drained. I could sleep for another eight hours.
He kisses my nose. “Our car is waiting. Once we’re home, you can relax with me until your heart’s content...after a shower.”
I lift my head. “Are you saying I smell?”
“No.” He chuckles. “But it’s a thousand degrees under this blanket, and parts of me are sticking to other parts. I can’t smell good.”
“I’ve smelled your stench after games. This isn’t even close, but we can shower together.”
His impish green eyes light up with a grin. With his arms around my waist, he draws me closer. “I’m holding you to that.”
Our lips connect in a slow, lazy kiss. It feels like new love, when you can’t help but smile while kissing.
I brush my fingers along his sharp jawline. “We should leave, just the three of us. Stay somewhere for a while, where we can be anonymous. Spend our days in bed.”
He places his forehead to mine. “We will, I promise. Anywhere you wanna go.”
“Promises. Promises.”
Our mouths meet again, this time with more heat, before he abruptly pulls away.
“Jesus, woman, you have to stop.”
We’re still grinning at each other when the hatch opens, and bright light filters through the cabin, shattering the spell we’re under.
Hurried footsteps approach, and I recognize the familiar rhythm before his imposing figure appears, casting a shadow that obscures the sunlight.
Ricky glares at the two of us, and I break from Jackson’s embrace, almost tripping on the blanket.
The swelling and redness around his eye diminished, revealing purple bruising underneath. There’s a cut on his lip and another above his cheekbone.
A pang of guilt lances my chest, and I glance away, bending down and putting on my shoes.A few days ago, I would’ve hugged him. It feels awkward not to, but I don’t know this person anymore.
“You could’ve told me you were leaving LA,” his deep voice barks.
Jackson stands and collects our belongings. “Sorry. We stopped by the penthouse. You weren’t there.”
“Because I was hunting you down.”
I step between them, eager to keep the peace. “We saw Ethan at the arena then grabbed an earlier flight. It was spur-of-the-moment.”
Ocean eyes narrow. “I texted and called you.”
“I’ve been asleep. My phone is in my bag.” I checked it hours ago and messaged Ethan a few times, but that’s it.
He leans in, expression stern. “And his?”
My mind goes blank with anxiety. “He…he’s had it the whole time.”
Jackson’s arm comes around me. “Stop intimidating her. Your problem is with me.”
The muscle in Ricky’s jaw flutters. “You have family here.”
Now, I’m utterly confused. My brows pinch, and I glance back at Jax.
He releases a reluctant sigh. “Ethan is being a controlling bastard. He texted me. His uncle sent someone to stay with us. I’ll explain later.”
Giddy excitement washes over me. I’m obsessed with the lore of the Rossi family. I’ve read everything I could find on Google. My grandmother loves true crime; she’s going to flip her lid over this.
Two men wait on the tarmac, and they’re undeniably Ethan’s family. One is smiling, showing familiar dimples, and the other is scowling. The DNA is unmistakable.
I’m so enthralled, I almost trip down the stairs. Ricky steadies me with a hand on my hip as Jax carries our bags ahead.
Twins, identical, maybe around my age. They’re decked out in black—T-shirts, jeans, boots, and worn leather jackets. One is wearing a baseball cap, but both are over six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes, muscular builds.
I can’t stop grinning.
Jax juts his chin in greeting. “Hey. You must be security sent by Rocco. I’m Jackson.” He gestures to Ricky. “The angry Viking is Ricky. He’s Aurora’s current guard.” He shoots me a smirk. “And don’t worry about her. She’s nobody.”
I bump his shoulder with mine and reach out to the twins. “Hi. Aurora.”
“Like you need to introduce yourself. You’re famous,” says the one with the hat and a friendly smile. “I’m Desmond. You can call me Desi.” He delicately shakes my hand.
“Yeah, Rocco talks about you nonstop,” adds the other twin. “I’m Dante.”
“Rocco is Ethan’s uncle, the attorney,” Jax clarifies then shudders. “It’s fucking cold out here. Let’s get going before you’re sick again.”
“Are they staying at the apartment?” I ask. “We don’t have enough room.”
Unless Ricky is leaving, which wasn’t the plan. Nothing was supposed to change…until he suggested using me to get closer to Kyle. Then, everything went sideways.
Dante twirls a set of keys around his finger. “We got a place for all of us. It’s secure.”
Now, I’m all discombobulated.
Before I can figure out what the hell is going on, Ricky places a hand on the small of my back and leads me to the passenger side.
Rounding the SUV, he leans in, whispering, “Jackson’s phone is still at the arena. If he has another, it’s not the one he had yesterday.”
I stop, completely baffled. An icy breeze blows my hair across my face, and I lift my hand to tuck the strand behind my ear.
Ricky’s eyes snag on the ring. His lip curls, and he shakes his head. “Tell him spousal privilege doesn’t count in first-degree felony trials.”