Page 26 of The Heart Breaker

I know why she missed. She was too busy looking at me.

She straightens and shoots me that signature Prescott glare. “You think you could do better?”

I hesitate for maybe two seconds, then set my empty bottle on the nearest table, walk over, and take the cue right out of her hands. “Move.”

She steps aside, and I bend slightly, line up, and sink two balls in a row.

When I look up again, she’s already there in front of me.

She snatches the cue back, slides between me and the table, and turns, rubbing against me as she lines up another shot.

My hands find her waist before I can stop them, digging my fingers into her hips, remembering how she teased me just like this back at the club.

I lean down, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear, and I’m hit with the same sweet scent she wore at the club. “Rub your ass on me again, Prescott,” I murmur, keeping my voice low enough that only she can hear, “and I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you in front of your date.”

Her breath hitches. “You wouldn’t dare,” she grits out, and there’s a slight shake in her words she probably hates.

“Try me,” I say, tightening my grip on her waist, every nerve in my body buzzing.

She pulls away, hands me the cue, her jaw tight and cheeks pink—furious I got to her—and walks back to frat boy, slipping her hand into his. I watch her lean in and whisper something in his ear, see his mouth curve, see his hand settle on the small of her back as they head toward the bathroom together.

My teeth feel like they’re about to crack with how hard I’m grinding down on them. I rip my gaze away, telling myself to just let her hook up with whoever the fuck she wants.

Going anywhere near Aurora would be a terrible idea.

But I’ve always had a bad habit of wanting the things I know I shouldn’t touch.

I drop the cue and shove through the crowd in the hallway, pushing the bathroom door open.

She’s backed up against the sink with that guy all over her, his hands locked on her waist and his mouth on her neck.

And something in me snaps.

I grab him by the collar, and yank him off her, shoving him out into the hallway.

“The fuck, man?” he snaps, yanking his shirt straight.

“Find somebody else,” I bite out. “She’s busy.”

His eyes flick over my shoulder toward Aurora, but I slam the door in his face before he can say another word.

When I turn back, Aurora’s already facing me, her chest rising too fast, and her eyes—those bright, furious blue eyes—are locked on me, blazing with so much anger it almost makes me laugh.

“What the hell is your problem?” she snaps.

I step in until she has to tip her head back, then brace both hands on the sink behind her, boxing her in. “You want attention that bad?” I ask, watching the flash of surprise that cuts through her anger. My mouth twists. “Congratulations. You’ve got mine.”

11

AURORA

If I had any sense, I would’ve walked away the second I saw Cole tonight. Instead, I did what I always do with him. Pushed. Snapped back. Let him get under my skin, and now I’m stuck in this too-small bathroom with him blocking the only way out.

I can’t stop replaying the way Cole pulled Jake off me and shoved him out into the hall, like he had the right to decide who touches me.

I didn’t want Jake. I just wanted to prove to myself that whatever was happening in my body out there had nothing to do with Cole. That the heat under my skin was anger, not anything else. That I could let some other guy touch me and feel absolutely nothing. That Cole’s hands on me in the shop, the way his breath caught when I gave him a lap dance, didn’t affect me in the slightest.

So I took Jake into the bathroom and tried to drown all of that out. And maybe I could’ve kept pretending if Cole had stayed out there.