Page 83 of The Heart Breaker

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’tfeellike 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.

25

AURORA

Stepping into Cole’s apartment feels different when I’m not being shoved against the nearest wall.

I’ve been here before, plenty of times. I know the route from the front door to his bed by heart. I could probably find it in the dark at this point, which I usually do.

But today the lights are on, my clothes are still on, and for the first time, I’m actually looking at the place instead of getting distracted by his mouth on my neck.

My gaze snags on the record player on his dresser, a messy stack of records beside it, and a shelf above lined with Funko Pops. There are plants too. Actual plants. Alive ones, which is, honestly, the most shocking part of all.

The door clicks shut behind us, and I startle when I feel him slide my coat down my arms.

It’s stupid, really. We’ve had sex in this apartment more times than I can count, and somehow Cole helping me out of my coat feels more intimate than seeing him naked.

I glance at him over my shoulder, and he holds my gaze, but then his jaw tightens and he looks away, tossing my coat over the back of a chair.

My eyes wander around the room until they land on a blue duffel bag by the wall, half-open, with a pair of beat-up boxing gloves sticking out.

“You box?” I ask, looking back at him.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “That surprises you?”

I roll my eyes. “I guess not.” If anything, it makes a little too much sense. “How long have you been boxing?”

“A long time,” he says with a shrug. “I like hitting things. Shuts my head up for a while.”