Page 133 of The Heart Breaker

“Fuck,” I mutter, blinking toward the shape of her in the bed as I push myself up and drag both hands over my face. “Sorry, Soph. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She reaches over and clicks on the lamp, then swings her legs over the side of the bed and walks toward me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I lean down to grab my phone off the floor. “Just dropped it. Go back to sleep.”

She wraps her arms around herself. “I can’t go back to sleep once I’ve woken up,” she reminds me, which shouldn’t surprise me because I’m the exact same. We grew up in the same house. I know exactly why.

I let out a breath and glance down at my phone, still open on Aurora’s page, my chest tightening the second I see her face again.

“Who’s that?”

I look up, realizing Sophie’s staring straight at my screen.

I lock my phone and shoot her a look. “Go back to bed.”

Instead, she drops onto the couch beside me and tucks her legs under herself. “You can talk to me, you know.”

I scoff and shake my head. “Yeah, I’m definitely not talking to my sixteen-year-old sister about my sex life.”

“Gross.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not asking about that. I’m asking if she’s your girlfriend.”

My chest goes tight. It’s such an easy question. Most people would answer without even thinking.

I can’t seem to do that.

For a second, I thought maybe she could’ve been. I wanted her to be.

“She’s not important. You are,” I say, and the words make my stomach turn because I know they’re complete bullshit the second they leave my mouth. Aurora’s important. Too fucking important—that’s the problem.

Sophie rolls her eyes. “You know you’re still allowed to care about someone else, right?” She leans back into the couch,twisting to face me. “I don’t want your whole life to be about worrying about me. I’m fine.”

Those words go straight through me.

Because that’s what I’ve been doing, isn’t it? Not just these past few days, but for years. Every choice, every plan, every shitty job, late night, and thing I told myself I could live without if it meant getting her out one day. It all comes back to Sophie. Always has.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, Aurora still got under my skin.

That’s the part that keeps screwing with my head.

I glance at my sister, swallowing hard. “You got hurt,” I say. “Because I wasn’t paying attention. Because I missed it. Because I was too busy?—”

Too busy thinking about Aurora.

Too busy losing my mind over the girl who cost me my shot at getting Sophie out of that house.

Sophie bumps her shoulder into mine. “You didn’t do anything,” she says. “Dad did. He’s the one who fucking sucks.”

A laugh slips out of me, rough and tired, and I shake my head. “Yeah, kid. He does.”

She shifts and tucks herself into my side the way she used to when we were kids, when we’d sit through one of his moods in total silence and just wait for it to pass. My arm goes around her without me even thinking about it, and I stare down at the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She goes still for a second. “For what?”

“For not getting my shit together fast enough to get you out of there.”