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Jacob squints at me, then his gaze moves to where I assume he can see Joel. The fucker took the window seat, leaving Aurora on the aisle. Not that she seemed particularly perturbed by that the last time I checked. She was typing rather furiously on her phone, her head bent.
Either tattling about me to her friend or writing her next big hit.
“I don’t think Haverhill has a problem,” Jacob says in a low voice. “You’re the one with the problem. And you keep taking it out on us.”
I roll my eyes. “I do not. I’m just?—”
“You’re fixating.”
Well,duh. “We all fixated at one point or another,” I mutter.
Jacob sighs. “Miles kept it together for a year while you fucked around with Willow. The least you can do is keep your shit together for a few games. She’ll get bored and stop coming.”
Maybe.
I fold my arms over my chest. He doesn’t know her like I do. He doesn’t know that, at one point, she lived and breathed hockey. Plus, she’s still got a decent arm on her. After shechucked her drink on me—which was impressive, to say the least, and refreshing in the strangest way—I showered and went to her condo. Because Jerry the doorman gave me her unit number, and I wanted to make her squirm.
I’m used to girls folding. Give them a smoldering look and they fold.
But Aurora…
Hmm.
I haven’t really tried a smoldering look on her. I haven’t gone the sweet route at all.
Although as she unbuckles her seat belt and gets up, heading for the bathroom at the front of the plane, I find myself following. I never learn my lesson—or maybe just to see what she’ll do if Ididtry to get in her pants.
How fast will she fold?
Jacob sighs loudly behind me, but I ignore him.
She doesn’t notice me. The bathroom on our plane is bigger than the tiny closet ones on commercial airlines, and I catch the door before she can lock it. I force my way in and flip the lock, triggering the lights.
There’s enough space for both of us, although it’s tight. She’s a hairsbreadth away.Inches. In black jeans and a blue form-fitting Titans long-sleeve shirt. Her hair is in loose curls around her shoulders. Makeup flawless, heavy. Her lips are blood red, and her tongue peeks out, flicking against her lower lip.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I don’t give her a hateful glare. This is a test, after all, so I ramp up the charm. I inch forward, reaching for her waist.
“I just wanted to touch you,” I murmur. “Is that so bad?”
Memories of our past flicker in my head like movie stills, a rolodex of images against the back of my mind. Of sixteen-year-old Aurora. Seventeen. Eighteen.
Yelling at her in front of her house, the satisfaction of her tears almost overwhelming.
Pain makes me feel good.
Everything else makes me feel… comfortably numb.
I’m happiest when I’m numb.
Touching her yesterday wasn’t enough.
She doesn’t stop me right now. She didn’t stop me then either. Not really. Not like I thought she would. I didn’t really know what she would do then, and I still don’t know now. Although when I pick her up and plant her ass on the narrow counter, her lips part.
“I know.” I say it like I’m admitting a dirty secret. “I know you, sunshine.”
I lean in so fucking slowly, waiting for her to push me away or laugh in my face. And when my lips brush her neck, her breathing fucking stops. I’m so tuned in to her, I can’t help but notice every little thing.
