Chapter 4 Zane #2
Aurora’s eyes twinkle with that mischievous glint again, and I’m not sure what it is, but there’s a feeling in the air between us that’s different. Not just the ideas, not just the plans.
Her.
There’s a connection I can’t ignore. It’s the way she speaks, the way she listens, and damn if she doesn’t have a way of making this whole town seem not just a pit stop.
But before I can get lost in my thoughts, she leans forward, glancing down at my arm.
“So,” she says, “Tell me about your tattoos.” She reaches over, the tip of her finger brushing against the ink on my forearm, tracing the edges of a dark swirl of lines that snake down my skin. “They’re really… something.”
I freeze for just a second at the feel of her touch. The brush of her fingertips is light, but it sends a jolt of heat up my arm. I can’t tell if it’s the warmth of her hand or the fact that it’s the first time someone’s really taken the time to notice them.
“Yeah, they’re mostly just… memories,” I say, trying to play it cool.
Aurora tilts her head slightly, studying them. “Memories, huh? I love that. What’s the story behind this one?”
She points to a pattern of intricate lines on my bicep.
I exhale, the words coming out before I even realize it. “It’s from a guy who taught me how to fix engines. He was the only one who ever made me feel I wasn’t just a ‘broken kid.’ I got this one after he… after he passed.”
I pause, realizing I don’t share that much with people. But with her? It just makes sense.
Her eyes soften, and her fingers remain there a moment longer.
“That’s really meaningful,” she says thoughtfully. “It’s like a piece of who you are is right there on your skin.”
I nod, suddenly feeling exposed in a way I wasn’t expecting. It’s easy to talk to her, easy to share these little bits of me that I usually keep buried.
Then, she surprises me again by moving her fingers to the next tattoo, a faded piece that’s less visible unless you look closely. It’s an old motorcycle.
“And this one? What’s the story there?”
I grin despite myself. “That’s a bike I rebuilt. First one I ever did on my own. Took me weeks to finish it.”
She smiles, looking up at me with that bright, teasing glint in her eyes. “I like that. It’s like you’ve got your whole life written in tattoos.”
I shrug, trying to keep it casual, but I can’t help the warmth spreading through me. “Yeah, something like that.”
She leans back, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Well, I think I might just have to get a tattoo now. Seems like a good way to remember things.”
The minutes slip by, and as we finish off our drinks, there’s an ease between us that feels too comfortable too quickly. The kind of sizzle that builds without you noticing until it’s just there, humming in the air.
Aurora sets her empty glass down, pushing it slightly to the side as she stands.
“Well, I guess I should be getting back,” she says, stretching, ready to slip out unnoticed, but I’m not letting that happen.
I set my glass down, standing up with her. "I’ll walk you home."
She shoots me a quick smile, waving me off. “I’m fine, really.”
I raise an eyebrow, my stare locking onto hers without saying a word. There’s no softness in it, just a calm, firm command that somehow lets her know I’m not asking, I’m telling.
Aurora looks at me, her mouth quirking into a smile that makes everything stir in my chest. “You don’t have to, Zane. I’m good.”
But I’m not having it. I’m not letting her walk out alone, no matter how much she protests.
“No.”
It’s the kind of quiet insistence that I don’t use often, but when I do, it’s usually for a good reason. I know it’s still daylight, and I’m sure it’s safe here, but my guard is always high. It has to be because of how I’ve lived.
A slight tension flickers across her features before she exhales a soft laugh.
“Fine. You win.” She rolls her eyes playfully, but there’s no anger in it, just a quiet acceptance. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“I try,” I say, offering her a small, approving grin as I grab my jacket.
I make sure to stay close as we head toward the door, my hand naturally falling into the pocket of my jacket where my keys jingle.
Aurora walks ahead, but I match her stride, falling into a rhythm beside her, the silence between us comfortable.
The air outside has that crisp bite to it, the kind of cold that makes your skin prickle just enough to keep you awake.
It’s when we’re about halfway down the street that the tension between us starts to feel almost tangible. She talks about the town’s little quirks, the way Coyote Glen still feels like it’s stuck in time, and I listen, letting her words settle in my mind.
But I can’t stop the way my eyes occasionally dart to her, taking in the way the light plays off her features, the way her lips curve into those small smiles that somehow make everything feel more real.
She catches me looking once, and the briefest flicker of understanding passes between us, unspoken but there.
And I feel it, the pull between us, that magnetic, undeniable chemistry.
It’s burning in the way our arms brush accidentally, in the moments when our gazes meet and hold just a little too long.
We continue walking, and the soft crunch of our footsteps fills the silence. The path feels longer than it should; everything between us is stretching out with it. I don’t know why, but I want to keep walking beside her. I don’t want this moment to end… not yet, anyway.
“So, what’s next for you, after this?” I ask, breaking the silence, needing to know more about what’s going on in that head of hers.
Aurora’s smile falters, just enough for me to catch it.
“I don’t know yet,” she says. “I’ve been trying to figure that out.
That’s why I’m still here, actually. Trying to…
get some clarity, I guess.” She laughs, but it’s quieter now, more introspective.
“Seems like everyone around here has their lives figured out. And me? I’m still trying to figure out what the next step is. ”
I nod slowly, understanding her words. Hell, I’ve been there myself. And I don’t know why, but I want to tell her that she’s not alone in that feeling. That sometimes, it’s okay not to have all the answers, even when it feels like everyone else does.
“You’re not the only one,” I declare. “I think everyone’s just trying to figure it out, one way or another.”
She meets my gaze then, her eyes holding mine in a way that seems more than just the moment. It’s almost as if she sees through me, into something deeper. And I can feel the heat building between us.
“Maybe I’m just waiting for something to pull me in the right direction.”
My heart beats a little faster at that.
We reach her place, a small cabin tucked at the edge of town. She hesitates, and I can tell she’s deciding whether or not to invite me in. But she doesn’t. And I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed, but something tells me this isn’t the last time I’ll be walking her home.
“Thanks for walking me back.”
“Anytime,” I reply, standing a little closer than I probably should.
The space between us crackles, thick with unspoken words, with what ifs and maybes. And I’m not sure where any of this is going, but I know one thing: I’m not ready for it to end.
She smiles at me, that mischievous glint back in her eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Zane.”
I nod, holding her gaze for just a moment longer before I turn to leave. But just before I step away, she calls out one more time.
“Don’t be a stranger.”