Page 138 of The Heart Breaker

His jaw clenches as he shakes his head, taking a step closer. “You aren’t worthless to me. I didn’t?—”

“Mean it?” I cut in. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before.” I tighten my grip on my keys until the metal bites into my palm. “I’m not listening to your lies anymore. Leave me the fuck alone, Reaper.”

His jaw tightens, but he stays where he is. “Aurora. Just… please. Let me explain.”

“No.” The word comes out shaking because I’m shaking, every part of me wound so tight. “Nothing you say is going to fix this.” I swallow hard, but it does nothing for the ache in my throat. “I hate you.”

The words hit him, and I watch as his face crumples. He takes a step toward me, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to, but I’m too exhausted to do anything but stand there while he closes the distance and lifts his hands to my face, cupping my cheek. His thumbs brush away the tears I didn’t even realize had fallen, and the familiarity of his touch hurts so badly it nearly knocks the breath out of me.

“Please don’t hate me,” he says, and I have never heard him sound like this. So wrecked. So desperate. “I can’t take it.”

I choke on a sob, too tired to fight as his lips press against my cheeks, kissing the tears off my face. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean a single word of what I said to you.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Sophie showed up at my door after you left. She ran from home because my dad hit her.” My stomach twists and I lift my eyes to his. “Sophie hasalwaysbeen my priority, but then you came into my life and that changed. All I could think about was that she got hurt while I was with you. While I was… happy.”

His thumbs brush over my cheek again, and my chest hurts so badly I can barely breathe through it. I want to hate him. I want to hold on to the anger because it’s the only thing keeping me standing here. But all I feel is tired. Hurt. Still wanting him in a way that makes me feel pathetic. And worse than that, I understand why he did it.

“You hurt me,” I whisper.

He nods immediately, misery written all over his face. “I know.”

“I needed you, and you pushed me away,” I say, each word scraping on the way out. “You made me feel like I was nothing to you. Like I was just someone you fucked until you got bored.”

His hands shake against my skin. “You’re not nothing to me. You’reeverything, and that scared the hell out of me.”

God, I want to believe him. I want to let him pull me into his arms and stop fighting this, stop fighting how far gone I already am for him.

But I can’t be that stupid again.

I step back and pull his hands from my face. He lets them fall to his sides, his brows drawing together like he already knows what I’m about to say and hates it.

“I can’t…” My voice breaks and I hate that it does. “I just can’t, Cole. I can’t be that girl who gets hurt over and over and keeps going back like an idiot.”

He doesn’t try to stop me. He just stands there looking at me, and if I stay one second longer, I know I’ll fold. So I turn, shove my door open, and step inside.

The second it closes behind me, I lean back against it and squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face in my hands.

I wanted so badly to let him hold me.

But I can’t let myself get hurt again.

Not by him. Not by anybody.

I really don’t think I’d survive it.

37

COLE

Nothing good ever comes from somebody pounding on your door first thing in the morning.

For a minute I swing my arm over my eyes and try to pretend I dreamed it. My back is killing me, my neck feels wrecked from sleeping on this couch, and I’ve been surviving on scraps of sleep for days now, and I’m constantly exhausted.

But then the knocking comes again, louder this time, and my eyes snap open to the dark room and the thin strip of early morning light leaking through the blinds. My stomach drops immediately because I wonder if maybe our father found out she’s here. Maybe he tracked her down and came to drag her back.

“What’s that noise?” Sophie asks, pushing herself up in bed just as another three knocks slam into the door.

“Stay there,” I tell her, already moving.

I head for the door and pull it open, and… well. Good news, it’s not our father.