Page 93 of The Heart Breaker

Then one of my favorite songs comes on, and relief hits me so fast I could kiss the DJ.

My eyes widen and I grab Isabella’s arm. “Oh my God,” I say. “They’re playing Violet Riot.”

Maisie’s eyes widen. “The band you were trying to get tickets for?”

I groan into my drink. “Trying being the key word. They sold out in, like, thirty seconds.”

A scoff cuts across the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I turn my head and find Cole leaning in the doorway. “They’re overrated as shit,” he says. “Every song sounds exactly the same.”

I cut him a glare. “That’s rich coming from the guy whose entire playlist is just men rapping about cheating on girls and then acting like they’re the ones who got hurt.”

Miles snorts as he passes with a bowl of chips. “She got you there, man.”

Cole ignores him, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he looks at me, a smirk tugging at his mouth. I know that look. I know it well enough now to feel the flicker of it low in my stomach, because I’ve seen it up close while we spent the holidays together.

We spent the entire Christmas day together watching cheesy Christmas movies, eating popcorn, and I somehow even convinced him to bake cookies with me. It was weird, but I liked it. Way too much.

It was also exactly the distraction I needed, because spending the holidays without my mom felt wrong, and a heavy knot of guilt had been sitting in my chest all Christmas Eve. But after the fight we had, I couldn’t handle sitting across from her while she listed out everything I’ve been terrified of happening for years.

I texted herMerry Christmaswhen I woke up, and after she texted back, I managed to build up the nerve to call her later in the day. We didn’t argue, which was a start, even if the silence was loud enough to remind me how much she disapproves of my choice to come to Colton U.

I spent the rest of the evening doing my best to push the conversation out of my head and just enjoy the rest of my Christmas. But when it finally got late, I refused to sleep over, because that would’ve made everything even more confusing.

We saw each other every single day after Christmas. Sometimes I went to his place, sometimes he came to mine. And then, a week later, on New Year’s, he texted me and told me to get dressed, and when he picked me up, he took me back to the abandoned bowling alley.

Only this time, the place had been cleaned up, lit up, and was packed with people. He introduced me to some of the guys from his boxing gym, and it shouldn’t have felt as big as it did.

But it did.

It felt like… we were something to each other.

Ten minutes before midnight, he took me up to the roof, and we sat there drinking champagne while fireworks burst over the city.

I still remember the way my stomach flipped when his eyes dropped to my lips as the countdown started.

I kept thinking this was it. That he was finally going to do it. I wet my lips and waited, every second dragging more than the last.

But when the clock struck midnight, he looked back out at the fireworks instead and my shoulders dropped. I should have known Cole wouldn’t kiss me because I’d made that rule, and even if he was usually an asshole, that was the one thing he never pushed. He always respected what I wanted.

And I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to forget the rules, because then my heart would be out, exposed for him to take in his hand and crush.

The more time I spent with him, the less he felt like Reaper and the more he just felt like Cole. Someone I looked for. Someone I wanted.

But sometimes I still wonder if I’ll always just be Viper to him.

I used to think all that hatred came from the fact that I was Chase’s girlfriend. He hated Chase, so by default, he hated me too. But I haven’t been Chase’s girlfriend for months, and I still catch that look in his eyes sometimes, as if every time he touches me, some part of him thinks he’s betraying himself.

I want to ask him what I did, what happened, what it is about me that makes him look at me the way he does sometimes, but I’m too scared of the answer. Too scared he’ll remember whatever grudge he’s been carrying around all this time and decide he’s done with me for good. This thing between us is going to end eventually. I know that.

I’m just not ready for that day to be now.

Cole lifts his beer and keeps his eyes on me over the neck of the bottle, andGod, he looks unfairly good. Brown leather jacket. Black shirt. Jeans. That tattooed hand wrapped around the glass, and my traitorous brain immediately goes to thefeeling of that same hand around my throat. I’ve always liked necklaces, but none of them ever looked that good on me.

He turns and heads for the drink table.

“Is it just me, or have the insults calmed down a little?” Isabella asks with a laugh.