24. Cole
COLE
It’s freezing. My fingers are numb, the cold cutting straight through my jacket, but I don’t mind it. I’ll take this over thinking too hard about how campus is empty because everyone else has somewhere to be tonight.
It was the same during Thanksgiving. I stayed here, like I always do, watching the place turn into a dead town. I never go home. The only person I actually want to see is a thousand miles away with a man I wouldn’t piss on if he were on fire.
I shove my hood up higher and pull a cigarette from the pack, tucking it between my lips.
The wind keeps killing the flame when I try to light it, and by the third attempt I swear under my breath.
When it finally lights, I inhale deep and let the smoke hit my lungs, hoping it takes the edge off the rest of the shit in my head.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, my stomach dropping when I see Sophie’s name flashing across the screen with a FaceTime request.
“Fuck,” I mutter, flicking the cigarette away and grinding it out under my boot.
She hates smoking. She caught me once, and I can still see the way her lip started trembling when she told me she was scared of losing me. It gutted me so hard I told her I would quit.
What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
I let out a deep breath, guilt swimming in my stomach, then swipe to answer.
She’s barely visible on the screen, just part of her face under the hood and a curtain of dark hair.
“Where are you?” I ask.
She pulls the hood of her sweatshirt tighter around her face, her eyes darting off to the side before she looks back at me. “In my room,” she whispers. “Dad’s still asleep.”
“Drunk, you mean.” I shake my head with a scoff.
Her eyes drop, disappointed, because, once again, he didn’t even try to make Christmas special for her.
I don’t care that she’s sixteen now. Don’t care that she’s taller, louder, tougher than she used to be. In my head, she’s still the little kid who used to fall asleep on my chest during thunderstorms and looked at me as if I could fix anything just by being there.
“You need me to come get you?” I ask, already figuring out how fast I can get to her in case she says yes.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m okay. I just…” She bites her lip, and something in my chest pulls tight. “I wanted to say Merry Christmas.”
Something twists hard behind my ribs. “Merry Christmas, Soph.”
“Thanks for the backpack, by the way.” She smiles. “It’s so cute. I really needed a new one.”
Yeah. I know she did.
The old one was practically falling apart and he saw it every day and couldn’t manage to get her a new one.
“Wish I could’ve gotten you something better, kid,” I mutter.
“It’s perfect,” she says, shaking her head as she shifts on the bed and tucks her knees up. “I hope you’re having a better Christmas than I am.”
I let out a breath and tip my head back against the wall. “Sorry to disappoint. It fucking sucks.”
That gets a real smile out of her, and for a split second she actually looks her age. Just a sixteen-year-old girl on Christmas morning instead of someone who’s had to grow up way too fast. I can’t even remember the last time I saw that from her.
“You always hated Christmas anyway.”
I shrug, but she’s not wrong. Christmas stopped meaning much a long time ago.
She sighs, hugging her knees a little tighter. “I wish you were here.”
I close my eyes for a second. Part of me wants to grab my keys, get in the truck, and take her out of that house. But then I hear his voice in my head, threatening to call the cops and tell them I kidnapped her if I ever interfered again.
“Wish you were here instead,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen suddenly, flicking off to the side, and my whole body goes tight.
“He’s awake,” she says quickly. “I have to go.” She looks back at the screen, and her expression softens. “Love you, Cole.”
“Love you too,” I say, but the call cuts off before I’m ready for it to.
I stare at my phone for a second after the screen goes dark. I drag a hand down my face, regretting crushing the cigarette.
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
My head jerks up, landing on Aurora standing a few feet away with her arms folded tight over her cream coat. Her nose is pink from the cold, her lips matching, and I forget how to breathe.
“Not every day you tell someone you love them,” she says, her mouth curving into a bitter smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “She must be special.”
Something twists in my chest, wiping out whatever softness was there a second ago.
“None of your business,” I snap. “What the hell are you even doing here, Viper?”
Her mouth twists, something like hurt flashing across her face before it shifts into irritation. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
She turns and starts walking away, and I let her.
I watch her boots crunch through the thin layer of snow, my body tensing. I know I’m being a dick. I know I should let her keep walking because I still remember everything she did. Everything it cost me.
But I can’t seem to care about that right now, because she’s leaving, and for some inexplicable, unreasonable reason… I don’t want her to.
“Fuck,” I groan under my breath, moving before I can stop myself. I catch up to her in three strides and wrap my hand around her wrist. “Wait.”
She jerks out of my grip, spinning around with fire in her eyes. “Let me go.”
I let my hands fall to my sides and drag in a breath. “Don’t leave,” I say, swallowing hard. “Stay.”
I probably sound pathetic, but I want her to stay. I don’t know why she’s here instead of back home with her family, and I don’t know what she expects from me, but I don’t want her walking away. I want her here, with me.
She slowly turns, her eyes narrowing as they move over my face. “Say sorry,” she says, folding her arms across her chest.
I blink at her. “What?”
She lifts her chin. “You heard me. I’m not some girl you get to snap at and then call back when it suits you. You were a dick, so apologize.”
My jaw tightens as I stare at her.
I could tell her to leave. Could be done with her and go out to find someone easier to deal with. Someone who doesn’t push, doesn’t argue, doesn’t get under my skin or into my head, and doesn’t make me say shit I’ve never said to anyone in my life.
Problem is, I don’t want easy.
I want her.
“Sorry,” I grit out, my teeth practically cracking from how hard I’m grinding them together.
She just blinks at me, completely unimpressed, then lets out this little sigh and shakes her head. “I just don’t feel like you’re sorry.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snap, narrowing my eyes.
She lifts her brows and starts turning away again.
“Shit.” I exhale hard and scrub a hand over my jaw. “I’m sorry,” I say again, louder this time, the desperation bleeding through no matter how hard I try to swallow it down.
She stops and turns back around, lifting a brow, waiting for me to continue.
“I’m sorry for being a dick,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t want you here when that’s the opposite of what I want.”
What the fuck has she done to me?
I never say shit like this. To anyone. But somehow Aurora has me standing out here in the cold, peeling myself open piece by piece, and the worst part is, I’d do it again if it got her to stay.
“Please,” I say, stepping closer, my eyes locking on those blue eyes that intoxicate me. “Stay.”
She smiles, then closes the distance and taps my cheek. “Alright,” she says, her eyes lifting to mine. “Since you begged so nicely… I’ll stay.”
She slips past me and heads into the lobby without looking back. The door shuts behind her, and I’m left standing there for a second with my pulse hammering in my ears and the cold biting at my skin.
I tip my head back and stare up at the sky. “Why this girl?” I mutter under my breath. “Why couldn’t it be literally anyone else?”
I shake my head and follow her inside.