Page 97 of The Heart Breaker

Instead, all I can think about is him. The way he’s looking at me. The way it gets into my head every single time, no matter how often I tell myself getting attached to Cole would be the dumbest possible thing I could do.

My face must give me away, because his mouth curves.

“Thought so,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to my ribs and moving lower until he settles between my thighs.

“Cole,” I whisper again, and this time it comes out like a plea.

“That’s it,” he says, dragging my skirt down my legs, his eyes never leaving mine, not even when he throws the fabric to the side. “Just focus on me.”

And I do.

I focus on him as he shoves his jeans off, on the way his body settles against mine when he lines himself up, on the slow roll of his hips when he finally pushes in and fills me, stealing the air from my lungs until everything else falls away.

There’s no room in my head for anything but him.

27

COLE

Ishouldn’t be doing this.

That’s the only thought in my head as I kill the engine and sit there for a second, staring through the windshield, forcing out a breath before I can change my mind and drive away.

I get out anyway, stuffing my hands into my pockets as I head inside her building, and by the time I hit the elevator button, my pulse is already starting to quicken. The doors take forever to open, but when they finally do, I step in, hit her floor, and lean back against the wall.

I exhale hard.

Everything about this is a bad idea.

I’m walking into the building where she lives with Isabella, which means Ryan’s probably around too, because that guy is basically attached to his girlfriend at this point. But honestly, that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is that I know better than to do thoughtful shit for her. That’s what boyfriends do.

And I’m not her fucking boyfriend.

The elevator dings on her floor, and I step out, heading down the hallway. Once I’m outside her door, I pull out my phone and text her.

Me:

Open the door.

Aurora:

Why?

I glance down the hall, checking no one’s around, and type back before I can think too hard about what the hell I’m doing.

Me:

Just open the door, Prescott.

I hear her shuffling toward the door from the other side and then it swings open.

She’s wearing an oversized sweater and her hair is twisted up in that messy bun again. She had it like that the first time I came here too, and I still haven’t recovered. The first time I saw her like this, with no makeup or those tight little outfits she usually wears, it knocked me on my ass. Made me want to forget about the one rule she set and kiss her anyway.

She just stares at me, her eyes going wide. “What are you doing here?” she hisses.

“Picking you up,” I tell her, snapping myself out of whatever just crossed my mind. “Come on.”