Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
My stomach is in knots as I knock. A few seconds later, the door opens. Aurora looks the opposite of happy to see me, but her red-rimmed, puffy eyes are the biggest gut punch. I want to reach out and pull her against me, but she steps back and crosses her arms, communicating that contact isn’t welcome.
Everything feels too tight. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“You needed to give me your key, anyway.” Her eyes stay focused on my chin.
We both know I could have left it at Roman’s. “I should have told you I saw Scarlet. My split with her wasn’t amicable. It wasn’t just because I ended up here and she was in LA. I wanted to make the distance work, but she didn’t feel supported because I didn’t want our relationship to be public fodder, so she ended things.” There’s more, but that conversation needs to wait.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” Aurora’s voice is low and raspy.
I shake my head. “No. Not romantic ones. I saw her because she’s in my city for a few months, and I needed to try to clear the air between us.”
“But she still has feelings for you,” Aurora says softly.
“She has memories of what we were, but there are a lot of years between then and now. I’m not the same person.” I’m definitely more cautious with my heart, maybe too cautious. “And I’m pretty hung up on you. When I get back, if you still have questions, whatever you want to know about my relationship with Scarlet, I’ll tell you—if I haven’t fucked this up beyond repair.”
“You haven’t fucked it up beyond repair.” Her chin trembles as she lifts her head. “It’s just a lot for me to manage. You have history with her. She’s accomplished and polished, and she’s had you in ways I haven’t, and I hate it. Especially because it would be so much easier for you to be with her than it is for you to be with me.”
“But she’s not who I want, Aurora. You are.” I wish I could tell her how deep those feelings are. How she’s all I have been able to think about for months. That I’ve risked more of myself for her than anyone since Scarlet.
I’ve confided in Aurora so much since my accident last year, but never about Scarlet. And that needs to change. “Can we talk when I get back?”
She nods.
“Can I hug you?” The need to comfort her is a physical compulsion.
“Please.” Her voice cracks.
I open my arms, and she steps forward. Her hands slide around my waist, and mine curve around her shoulders, one hand cupping the back of her head as she rests her cheek on my chest.
I press my lips against the top of her head. “I slept like shit last night, Princess.”
“Me, too. I should have messaged you before bed, but I looked a wreck,” she mutters.
“You’re always beautiful. Fuck. I hate when I upset you,” I admit.
“I have a lot of emotions when it comes to you,” she says softly.
I take her face in my hands, studying every flutter of her lashes. “It’s the same for me, Aurora. I wish last night had gone differently. Maybe when I get back, we can have a do-over.”
“I’d like that. Except we should probably put on the safety latch, so my freaking dad doesn’t come busting in like the Kool-Aid Man. How did that go? Do you think he suspects anything?” She pulls her lip between her teeth.
I shake my head and tamp down the guilt, not wanting her to see how heavy this weighs on me. Not when I have to leave her after the clusterfuck that was last night. “He was too preoccupied. He barely even asked about my date.” Which I was grateful for. I felt like I was in one of his spirals, aware I’d hurt Aurora. If he knew the truth about how last night was supposed to end, he’d probably unalive me. And he’d have a right. “He wanted to text you, but I reminded him you have an early class this morning.”
“Crisis averted,” she murmurs.
“For now, yeah.” That’s another conversation we need to have. But it all depends on what she wants out of this. I’m terrified about what that could be and what it would mean.
She sighs and fiddles with the string on my hoodie. “I need to get going. I’m meeting with my group before class. We have a presentation this morning, and we want to go through it one more time.”
And now I feel even worse. It’s fine for me to sleep like trash. All I’m doing is sitting on a plane and a bench, but this could mess with her grades. “I’m sorry you’re going into this under-slept.”
“I’m in university, Hollis. I can function on five hours of crappy sleep.”