31. Cora
31
CORA
“ I ronwood just commented on your latest video,” Jennifer said from her end of the couch.
I looked up from my phone. “Huh?”
“They want you real bad.” Jennifer crawled over to me, showing me the comment section on my latest Masked Mixer video. “‘Looks fire! We can’t wait to try it out.’ They’re really sucking up.”
I smirked. “Well, my answer is still no.”
“Are you sure? You’re a hot commodity right now. They’d probably offer you double what was in your original contract. Look at all these other brands dropping fire emojis under their comment. They want you, Cora,” Jennifer said, pitching her voice dramatically. “They need you.”
I covered my face with my hands, laughing as she carried on. Now that it was clear that the Masked Mixer had parted ways with Elixir, more and more brands were sliding into my DMs with partnership offers, brand deals, and even a few gig invites around the city. It was everything I had hoped to get as a result of my Elixir partnership, and it was probably time to start taking some of them seriously—at least the gigs.
Now that I’d also parted ways with my sweet Elixir paycheck, Jennifer and I were all about a free night on the town. “How would you feel about being my plus one to the opening of Penny’s?” I read the invite in my email to her. “NYC’s newest penthouse bar. It has a roof garden, if that sways you at all.”
“I am swayed,” Jennifer said, cocking her head as music drifted in through the window. “Let’s hope the appetizers are better than the ones they had at Bottom of the Barrel.”
“I don’t actually have to mix any drinks this time,” I said. “Just show up in persona. So it should be a relatively chill night.”
“Sounds great.”
The music got louder. I looked up from my laptop, in the middle of editing my Souped-Up Bloody Mary video. “Are the neighbors throwing a party we weren’t invited to?”
“No…” Jennifer said. “I don’t think so. They’ve always invited us before.” She glanced down at her phone. “I don’t have any texts. I think someone must be having a midweek throwback jam.”
The music got even louder, and I finally recognized the song. No freaking way . I sat up straight, my laptop sliding off my knees onto the couch cushion.
Jennifer’s eyebrow arched slowly. “Wait. This is Lifehouse.” I stared at her. She stared at me. “Didn’t you say that was the?—”
“Yeah.”
“On the football field?”
“Yeah.”
We both jumped to our feet, racing for the window. There stood Aiden on the street, staring up at our apartment, a boombox held up over his head. My heart skipped a few beats, and I pressed my hand to my chest. What the hell was he doing?
“What in the John Cusack?” Jennifer muttered. She pulled back from the window, breaking into wild laughter. “Where did he get a boombox?” She laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes.
She laughed until I started laughing too. Then the shock melted into disbelief. I couldn’t believe Aiden was standing down there, in the middle of the street, with a freaking boombox, like I’d somehow landed in the movie Say Anything .
Jennifer sobered and opened the window all the way until we could hear the music better. She settled me with a pointed look, flicking her head down in Aiden’s direction. “So, this is happening.”
I released a heavy breath. “It sure is.”
“Right.” Jennifer put her hands on her hips. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Aiden
Lifehouse poured from the speakers of the old boombox, practically deafening me as I sang along. I stared up at the window where I could just barely make out Cora and Jennifer. My arms were starting to ache, but I didn’t dare move. Not until I managed to talk to Cora.
To explain.
To tell her how wrong I was.
To apologize.
Finally, she stuck her head out the window.
Yes! This was my chance.
“Isn’t this a little irrational?” Cora called down at me.
A laugh bubbled up my throat. “Yes!” I shouted back. It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever done in my life. “But you’re worth it!”
My stomach sank as Cora disappeared back into the apartment, shutting the window. Fuck . I lowered the boombox I’d bought at an old thrift store—I’d had to scour half the city before I found what I was looking for—and turned off the music.
Well, I’d obviously gotten her attention, but she was still clearly not interested in talking to me. I was a fool to think this would work. People on the sidewalk had stopped to stare at me. Passing cars honked. Someone even clapped.
And for what? Cora wasn’t interested. I turned back down the sidewalk, heading for my car, trying not to look as wretched as I felt inside. Maybe she really was over the idea of us .
I’d lost her.
“Boss! Hey, Boss!”
I whirled around. Carlos hung out the door of the building, waving to get my attention. “Cora called down saying you could come up.”
I raced for the door, hardly believing his words. “You’re sure?”
He nodded. “Where the hell’d you get a boombox from?”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Long story. Thanks, Carlos.” I slid past him and headed right for the elevator, riding it up to the seventh floor. I knocked before my nerves could get the better of me.
Jennifer threw the door open, giving me a swift up and down. Her lips curled into a smile as her eyes landed on the boombox. “I’m heading out,” she announced. “You have two hours in the apartment alone to sort yourselves out before I’ll be back.” She took a step toward me, poking me in the chest. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Did that mean I had a chance?
She strung her purse over her shoulder and marched off down the hall without another word. I slipped through the door, letting it close softly behind me. Cora stood in the middle of the living room, her arms crossed, looking out toward the window. I placed the boombox down on the kitchen counter. When she finally looked at me, I could tell how wary she was. But there was something else too…Longing, maybe?
Heat pooled in my chest. I’d missed her so damn much.
“That was a little ridiculous,” she said after a beat.
I shrugged. “Apparently love makes me do ridiculous things. At least this time, it was a fun kind of ridiculous—instead of dumb decisions and saying things I don’t mean.”
Cora’s mouth stretched into a thin line. “Is that so?”
“I’ve always been the kind of person who has a lot of feelings. Big feelings I haven’t always been the best at controlling. And for a long time, I thought that meant I had to avoid the things that made me feel that way. That I had to run away from them to stop myself from becoming too?—”
“Irrational,” she finished for me. She didn’t look impressed.
I swallowed hard. “It’s taken me this long to figure out that running isn’t the answer. What I need to do is embrace them.” I took a step toward her. She stared at me, those brown eyes so open and desperate and glassy. I’d hurt her. Now I needed to fix it. “I thought I was protecting myself by not getting emotionally invested, but what I was really doing was shutting myself off from every wonderful thing that love could bring. Every wonderful thing that you could bring.”
“And what about the fact that I make you a worse version of yourself?” she asked, an edge to her voice.
“God, I was so wrong for saying that, Cora.” I touched her shoulder, relieved when she didn’t flinch away. “For even thinking that. You don’t make me a worse version of myself. Of course not. You brought me to life in every way that matters. And yes, sometimes that’s meant I’ve acted out destructively, but you also brought me so many moments of joy I’ve never experienced with anyone but you. I know I need to do better. That I need to work on handling my feelings in a healthier way.”
“These are all just pretty words, Aiden.” She shook her head. “Anyone can say they’re going to work on themselves.”
“No, I’m serious,” I said. “I’ve been looking into anger management classes and I’ve…I’ve also started seeing a therapist.” I pulled the business card from my wallet, handing it to her. “Her name is Veronica. She’s been…well, very enlightening so far. And she doesn’t put up with any of my excuses. Sort of like someone else I know.”
Cora ran her thumb over the name on the card, her eyebrows drawing together.
“Anyway, I’m going to stick with it. Because I want to be a better version of myself. For you, but also for me. And more than anything, I want another chance. But I understand that I’ve said things and done things that have hurt you, and I know an apology doesn’t make all of that disappear. I’m willing to do the work to prove to you that I’m going to change, no matter how long it takes, Cora. Because you’re worth all that and?—”
She fell into my arms, holding me tight. I felt her sob.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “I love you. And I’m going to do better.”
She looked up at me. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” I brushed her hair behind her ear. “Does this mean I get a do-over?”
“I’m open to the idea.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she said softly. She pressed up on her toes and kissed me. It was just a peck, just a brush of lips, but it set sparks off inside me. The heat in my chest fanned out, practically setting me on fire.
“I think you should put on your shoes, grab your purse, and leave your roommate a note,” I said, my voice low and husky.
“Oh, really?” she said, wearing a cocky little smirk as she pulled back, catching my eye. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Yes. To my condo. I have a lot of apologies to make, and I need to be sure we won’t be interrupted.”
“Apologies, huh?” She giggled. “Jennifer won’t be back for a couple of hours,” she pointed out.
“That’s not nearly enough time,” I whispered, my lips hovering against her ear, “for all the ways in which I plan to say I’m sorry—and show how committed I am to making you very happy from now on.”