Page 67 of The Heart Breaker

I blow out a breath, forcing my shoulders to loosen. Now it seems like all I do is look for her.

“Does this still work?” Aurora asks, bringing me back, standing in front of the middle lane.

I reach behind the pillar and flip the one breaker in this place that still works. A low hum fills the alley, then the old lights flicker on overhead, washing everything in that dim blue glow.

“You wanna play?” I ask her.

She gives me a little shrug, steps forward, and grabs a ball from the rack. She takes a couple of steps forward and swings, sending the ball down the lane. It veers left and knocks over… maybe like three pins?

I blow a quiet laugh through my nose. “Christ, Prescott. You suck.”

She shoves at my chest, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, Reaper. Let’s see how you do.”

“You remember what happened when you challenged me at pool?” I arch a brow.

Her look sharpens, heat flickering in her eyes. “I remember what happened afterward.”

A muscle jumps in my jaw. Yeah. I remember that night, too. Remember thinking one time would burn her out of my system.

What a goddamn idiot I was.

I grab a ball and line it up, but just as I’m about to take the shot, Aurora drifts into my space, sliding her hand over my back, making me shiver.

I glance at her. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” She blinks up at me. “I’m not doing anything.”

Bullshit.

I tear my eyes off her and try to focus as I throw the ball. It knocks out most of the pins—except for two on opposite ends.

I huff out a laugh when I turn around and see a smirk tugging at her lips.

“You were saying?” she chirps.

I shake my head, trying to fight the urge to smile. Christ. This shit is so weird. I never thought I’d be having fun with Aurora Prescott, of all people.

“I knew bringing you was a mistake.”

“You invited me,” she says with a shrug.

I start to tell her I didn’t invite her anywhere, that she invited herself onto my bike, but the words die before they ever make it past my teeth.

Because she’s not wrong.

I could’ve told her to get off. Could’ve told her to walk home, or go fuck Holden Miller and leave me the hell alone.

But I didn’t.

I head for the vending machine by the entrance, pry open the busted front, and reach inside. I grab a bag of chips and a Diet Coke, then turn, toss the chips to her, and hold out the can.

“You like Diet Coke, right?”

She looks at it, then up at me. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

Because I’ve been paying attention to her for years. More than I ever should have. More than I wanted to.

I shrug and shut the vending machine door. “Lucky guess. C’mon,” I say, jerking my chin toward the narrow hallway at the back of the alley.