Lucky
Chapter four
Hayes Rosewood
Aurora’s face is as cold as the marble in my parents’ kitchen when she sees me leaning against the wall of the computer science building.
We don’t have class together today, but I’ve run into her enough times to know we’d cross paths if I lingered here.
At first, I think she’s going to change course and speak to me, but I should have known better.
She turns her icy gaze to the doors ahead as though I’m not there.
“So?” I call out as she passes.
Her hair—in a tight bun atop her head—catches the light as she pauses to turn my direction.
It makes her subtle honey-colored highlights stand out.
She’s dressed in similar clothing to what I usually see her in.
Baggy gray sweats rolled up at the waist, boots that look more like slippers than shoes, and a Thrashers Dance Academy hoodie.
The hoodie is half unzipped, revealing a pink leotard underneath and the necklace she never takes off.
She eyes me with a mixture of caution and contempt.
“I’ll do it,” she answers. “But I want a contract.”
I grin. “Don’t want to take my word for it?”
Her flat expression is her reply. I chuckle and push up off the wall, then cross the short distance between us. A few students pass through the doors, shooting quick, not-so-subtle glances our way.
“I already called my lawyer. I just need your information to add to the contract, and we’ll be good to go.”
She crosses her arms, and her hoodie slips on one side, exposing more of her smooth skin. There’s a small heart-shaped birthmark where her collarbone meets her shoulder that draws my eye.
“What kind of information?”
“Name, copy of your birth certificate, social security number …” I trail off, laughing at the look of alarm that crosses her usually unexpressive features. “I’m joking. I do need your name, address, and email, though. And your number, but that’s so we can organize the sessions.”
She lets out a sigh, then pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket.
“Put in your number, and I’ll text you what you need.”
I take her phone, my mouth hitching up on one side when I notice the case is pink.
Once my number is in under the name Prince Charming, I exit out of the contacts app and go to hand the phone back to her.
As I do, I notice her background. It’s Aurora with three other girls.
They’re wearing pajamas and eating ice cream and smiling.
I almost pull the phone back to look closer, but I figure I shouldn’t press my luck. She could still back out.
“The contract will be digital, so you can sign it on your phone or laptop,” I say, and tuck my hands into my black hoodie pocket. “Assuming you don’t have any issues with what’s in it, we can start as early as tonight.”
Her nose wrinkles.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You can send me your schedule with the contract, and I’ll compare it with mine. Tonight won’t work.”
“Why?” I ask, just to mess with her. “Are you going out?”
It is Friday, after all. In truth, tonight wouldn’t have worked, depending on the time, I guess. The Shadow Ring has an event, and though it happens past midnight, there’s a lot of preparation that goes into it. Especially when I’m fighting, which I am.
“No, I have rehearsals.” She glances at her phone. “I need to go before I’m late to my next class.”
My brow furrows, and I gesture to her clothes.
“Did you not just come from dance? You can tell me if you have a date, I won’t be offended.” I grin. “Jealous, maybe, but not offended.”
She looks at me as though she’s questioning the number of brain cells I have.
“I have technique and conditioning in the mornings, rehearsals at night, sometimes until nine or ten. Hence why I need your schedule,” she says, like it’s obvious. “I’m going to leave now, before you say something that makes me change my mind.”
She pulls her hoodie back over her shoulder and adjusts her backpack that’s hanging off the other one.
“You don’t want to change your mind, then?” I press, because I can’t help it.
There’s an addictive quality to talking to Aurora. I get a little thrill every time she does or says something I don’t think she would say to anyone else.
She huffs. “It may not be to you, but a hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. Which I need.”
Her words deflate my mood just a little. I offered the money for this very reason. No average college student in their right mind would turn that sum down. But it’s less fun hearing her confirm that’s the only reason she’s tutoring me.
“So you’re not sticking around because of my dashing good looks and winsome personality?”
Aurora shakes her head in disbelief. “It’s like you want me to think you’re obnoxious.”
“I’m trying to make you laugh, or at least smile,” I say with a smile of my own.
“Try harder,” she says in a tone dry as dust.
My grin grows. Her eyes widen in realization.
“No—” She holds a hand up. “I take that back!”
“Too late, Princess. You’ve thrown down a gauntlet.” I dip at the waist in a bow. “And I, as your loyal knight, accept the challenge.”
“Would you stop?” she hisses. “People are staring.”
I straighten my back and glance around. Sure enough, students and staff alike are casting surreptitious looks our way. I hardly notice it anymore. Growing up the way I did, you get used to the feeling of being watched.
“So I shouldn’t get down on one knee to swear my fealty to you?”
I start to bend down again, and Aurora reaches out, grabbing me by my hoodie to keep me in place.
“Don’t you dare.” Her warning is low, and she keeps looking around, as though someone is going to jump out of the bushes with a camera. I wish I could say that wasn’t a possibility, but it’s happened once or twice before.
We’re closer than I think we’ve ever been before.
I look down at her and take a moment to appreciate the rare occurrence.
To study her. Her lips are covered in an enticing pink gloss, and her long lashes flutter as she casts disdainful looks toward the people around us.
A soft blush covers her cheekbones, whether from the cold or attention or both, I’m not sure.
The desire to brush my fingers over her skin hits me like a left hook.
Her fingers curl in my hoodie, and I smirk.
“People are going to think you’re grabbing me for other reasons if you don’t let go soon,” I tease.
Aurora lets go, then gives me a little shove that is nothing short of adorable.
“You’re lucky I need this money,” she grumbles.
My father likes to say that a man makes his own luck. And it seems, based on the scheme I’ve concocted, he might be right.