32. Cole
COLE
There was a time when seeing Aurora first thing in the morning would ruin my week.
Now it’s become my favorite part of the day. Seeing her roll around in my bed, groaning when I kiss her cheeks, her neck, her back—every inch of her I can get my hands on—before I have to leave for practice. It physically pains me to go, to leave her there all warm and half asleep in my sheets.
I’ve never needed anyone.
Wanted, sure. Protected, definitely. Felt responsible for, all the time.
But needing someone is different. It’s messy, inconvenient, and proof that this thing between us has buried deep into my skin, and I don’t know what to do about that.
But I know that I need Aurora. I need the way she looks at me with those sharp blue eyes. I need her smiling at me. I need the feel of her hands in my hair when I kiss her.
I don’t even know what my life looked like before her anymore.
I just know I don’t ever want to go back.
She’s been staying with me since everything with Chase went down, and I’ve been grateful for every damn day of it, because I hate the thought of her being away from me.
Coach Hayes did everything he could to make sure Chase got hit with a domestic violence charge, but because his daddy’s rich, Chase ended up with two months of community service, which is a goddamn joke. Practically a slap on his weak-ass wrist.
“Why did you have to wake me up this early?” Aurora asks, crossing her arms over one of my Midnight Wolves hoodies, her eyes narrowed in a look that’s supposed to be threatening but only makes her look fucking adorable.
I don’t tell her that, obviously.
I like being alive.
“Because I’ve got practice soon, and this was the only time I had.”
Aurora watches my hands while I wind the cotton around her knuckles, over the back of her hand, and around her wrist. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” she mutters, shooting me a glare. “Do you have a bondage kink I don’t know about?”
I huff out a laugh. She’s not a morning person. That much has become painfully clear this week. When I finish one hand, she flexes her fingers as I start wrapping the other one too.
When I’m done, I smooth my thumb once over the inside of her wrist before I let her go and step back.
She lifts both hands, turning them over as she looks at the wraps. “So if I punch you, is this gonna do less damage to my hand?”
A laugh punches out of me. “That’s your first instinct?”
Her mouth curves, cocky and a little evil. Just how I like her. “Always.”
I huff out a laugh, reach over to grab the gloves, and hold them out to her.
She looks down at them, then back at me, lifting a brow. “Those are hideous.”
I shoot her a look. “They’re boxing gloves, not a handbag, Prescott. They’re there so you don’t break your fingers.”
She rolls her eyes, but lets me undo the straps and work them onto her hands. Once they’re secure, I step behind her and tap her foot with mine.
“Widen your stance.”
My hands settle on her hips as I shift her into place, sliding one foot back and making sure her knees stay loose. “Left foot forward. Hands up. Chin down.” I tap lightly beneath her jaw until she lowers it the right amount. “You don’t want to hand somebody your face.”
She arches a brow. “I thought the whole point was to break theirs.”
I snort. “Hard to do that if they hit you first.” Lifting my own fists, I show her the motion. “Start with a jab. Straight out, straight back. Keep it quick, and turn your fist over right before you land.”
I drive my fist into the bag, then step aside.
She moves in and copies me—or tries to—because it’s sloppy as hell and too slow. I catch her elbow and tuck it in closer. “Keep your elbow tight. You swing wide like that, you leave yourself wide open.”
She lets out a long, dramatic sigh and drops her hands. “I give up. I’m not built for anything athletic.”
I shake my head, reach over to the wall, and grab one of the pads. “Nope.”
Her eyes narrow. “Nope?”
I turn back and hold the pad up in front of her. “Hit this.”
“You’re bossy.”
“Hit the pad, Prescott.”
She rolls her eyes, but squares up again, shifting her weight before she throws a jab that lands against the pad so softly, I barely feel it.
I just stare at her.
Her eyes flash at that, exactly like I knew they would, and she squares up again before driving another jab into the pad. This time, it’s hard enough to shift me on my feet.
“There you go,” I say, lifting the pad again. “Again.”
She hits it three more times, each one better than the last, and I watch the sleep start to leave her. Little by little, her shoulders loosen, and she stops getting stuck in her own head and just throws the punch.
“Good,” I say, keeping the pad up. I can’t help the satisfaction that pushes through my chest when I see it click for her. “Now double it.”
She lowers her hands and blows a strand of hair out of her face. “Why do I need to know how to do this?”
I lower the pad, feeling my body tense. “Because I’m not letting anyone hurt my girl ever again.”
She freezes, all that attitude gone in a second as she drops her hands and just blinks up at me, her eyes widening.
“Your girl?” she repeats.
I step in and hook two fingers under her chin, tipping her face up. “You heard me,” I murmur, my thumb brushing her jaw before I lean down and kiss the startled look right off her face.
A few weeks ago, saying something like that would’ve scared the shit out of me.
Maybe it still should. But lately, when it comes to Aurora, I’ve been doing a lot less thinking and a lot more just taking what I want when it’s standing right in front of me.
So far, it’s been the best decision I’ve made in a long time.
My hand slides to her waist and I pull her into me, kissing her until I forget what the hell we were even talking about. I think we’ve kissed more than we’ve had sex, which is a complete mindfuck considering how this started. Not that I’m complaining.
Because I love kissing her.
Love her mouth. Love the way she melts into me. Love the quiet little moan she gives me when I deepen the kiss, and the way her hands come up around my neck like that’s exactly where they’re meant to be.
I pull back, my thumb brushing once over her bottom lip before I let my hand fall away.
“Come on,” I say. “I’ve got to leave in like thirty minutes.”
I step in behind her and fix her stance again, turning her a little more toward the bag.
She throws another couple of punches, taking a breather. “Did you only start boxing to protect yourself?” she asks, breathless.
My jaw tightens before I can stop it. “Yeah,” I say while I guide her arm back into place. “Pretty much.”
She glances at me over her shoulder, waiting for me to continue. I shift my hand from her shoulder to her elbow and nudge it up.
“I felt helpless all the time when I was a kid. So I started boxing because I was sick of feeling like that. Sick of feeling weak and unable to protect Soph.”
She turns to face me, holding my gaze while I talk.
“The first time I punched my dad, I thought I’d finally won.” A short, humorless laugh leaves me. “But he got right back up and came at me swinging. Same as always.”
“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her brows drawing together.
I shake my head and lower the pad. “Nothing to apologize for, baby.”
Her cheeks go pink, and she glances away, and it pulls a smile out of me before I can stop it. Never thought I’d be calling Aurora Prescott anything but Viper.
She’s quiet for a second before she lets out a slow breath and looks back up at me.
“I used to wonder what it would’ve been like, having a dad around. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Taking me for ice cream after school. Putting me on his shoulders. I was so jealous of the other girls,” she admits.
Something in my chest pulls tight at the image of Aurora as a kid, pretending she didn’t care while she watched everyone else have what she was missing.
Her mouth twists. “I never really let myself think that maybe he might have been a terrible person.”
I set the pad down on the floor and drag the back of my hand across my forehead.
“Did you ever ask her?” I say.
Aurora shakes her head. “She won’t talk about him.
The second she found out I knew who he was and wanted to meet him, she started yelling and told me he wanted nothing to do with us.
” Her brows pull together. “But I can’t believe that.
I can’t have come all this way getting into Colton U just to end up with nothing. ”
My brows shoot up. “Wait… he goes here?” I ask.
Her eyes flick up to mine, and she nods. “That’s why I came here. I found some old pictures of him, did way too much digging, and figured out he lived nearby.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I just… wanted to know him. Or at least see what he was like.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Yeah. A few times,” she says, her throat moving when she swallows. “But I haven’t told him who I am.”
My brows pull together, seeing the pain coursing through her face. I’ve always hated my dad, wished I didn’t have one. But I never realized what that would be like for someone who doesn’t even know half of herself.
“Do you want to tell him?” I ask her.
She lifts her head and nods slowly. “Yeah. I think I do.” Her lips twist, and she looks away for a second before sighing. “But I’m scared.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head. “What if he doesn’t even remember me? What if he’d never thought of me? What if my mom was right?”
I set the pad aside and reach for her wrists, peeling the gloves off one at a time.
“Then I’ll kick his ass.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “You can’t keep getting arrested for me.”
My jaw tightens.
I already got arrested for her.
Twice.
And I’d do it again without even thinking about it.
“I can’t help it,” I say, holding her gaze. “I protect the people I—”
I feel the word hit the back of my teeth, and I force myself to stop before I say something I can’t take back. It’s too soon. Too dangerous. Too real.
So I swallow it down.
“I protect the people I care about.”
Her lips part as she looks up at me, and even if I’m still too much of a coward to say it out loud, I know.
I’m gone for this girl.
A throat clears from somewhere behind us, and I turn to find Jenna standing a few feet away with a gym bag slung over one shoulder. Her gaze flicks between us, one brow lifting.
“You’re here early,” I say.
She shrugs and drops her bag to the floor. “Trying to avoid Sam.”
I scoff. “You should give him a chance,” I say with a shrug.
She stares at me for a second. “I miss when you were mean. This is unsettling.”
I huff out a laugh as she puts her headphones on, turns away, pulls on her gloves, and tightens the straps with her teeth.
When I turn around, Aurora has one brow arched. “Who’s that?” she asks.
I toss the pads onto the bench, my brows tugging together. “Her name’s Jenna,” I tell her. “She comes here a lot.”
“Hmm.”
I straighten and reach for my water bottle, taking a quick drink. “What?”
She shrugs. “Nothing,” she says with a shake of her head before pressing her lips together in the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “She’s pretty.”
I shoot her a look. “Don’t do that, Prescott.”
“Do what?” she asks.
“Act jealous.” I slide a hand to her waist, pulling her into me. “You’re way too much of a badass to be jealous of other women.”
Her mouth twitches.
“Besides,” I add, lowering my voice as I lean in, “I’m looking at the only girl I want.”
Color creeps into her cheeks, and I can’t help but grin, because for all the attitude she throws at me, I still know exactly how to get under her skin.
It might be a little possessive of me, but I like that she was jealous. I never want to give her a reason to be, but knowing she wants me anywhere close to as much as I want her? Yeah. I like that way more than I probably should.
I lift a hand and catch a loose strand of hair that’s fallen across her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.
“Are you free Friday night?” I ask.
She blinks at me, her eyes widening slightly. “I don’t know,” she says. “Why are you asking?”
My gaze drifts over her face. The bright blue of her eyes. Her mouth, still a little pink from kissing me. The faint flush sitting high in her cheeks. So goddamn pretty.
“You want to go on a date with me, Prescott?” I ask her.
She blinks again. “A date?”
“Yeah. I want to take you out.” My hand slides from her hair to the side of her neck, my thumb brushing slowly over her skin.
“Want to sit across from you while you wear some killer dress.” Her throat moves on a swallow, and I don’t stop.
“Want to kiss you in public.” I tip my head, looking down at her. “Want everyone to know you’re with me.”
This is so out of character for us, especially with the way we started, but I’ve heard enough about what a shit excuse for a boyfriend Chase was, and I’m not making that mistake.
He had her and treated her like an afterthought.
I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure she knows exactly how she should be treated.
She lets out a breath and I already know something bratty is about to leave her lips. “I don’t know. I think I have another date that day.”
I huff out a laugh, lean in close, and grab her ass, squeezing once. “Like hell you do.”
I pull her closer and kiss her before she can get another smartass answer out. She kisses me right back, making that soft little sound I’m addicted to as her arms slide around my neck. By the time I pull away, she’s flushed and I’m grinning like an idiot.
If someone had told me six months ago this would be my life, I would’ve called them insane.
Now, though, I’ve never been happier to be wrong.