I pause, realizing I don’t share that much with people. But with her? It just makes sense.
Her eyes soften, and her fingers remain there a moment longer.
“That’s really meaningful,” she says thoughtfully. “It’s like a piece of who you are is right there on your skin.”
I nod, suddenly feeling exposed in a way I wasn’t expecting. It’s easy to talk to her, easy to share these little bits of me that I usually keep buried.
Then, she surprises me again by moving her fingers to the next tattoo, a faded piece that’s less visible unless you look closely. It’s an old motorcycle.
“And this one? What’s the story there?”
I grin despite myself. “That’s a bike I rebuilt. First one I ever did on my own. Took me weeks to finish it.”
She smiles, looking up at me with that bright, teasing glint in her eyes. “I like that. It’s like you’ve got your whole life written in tattoos.”
I shrug, trying to keep it casual, but I can’t help the warmth spreading through me. “Yeah, something like that.”
She leans back, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Well, I think I might just have to get a tattoo now. Seems like a good way to remember things.”
The minutes slip by, and as we finish off our drinks, there’s an ease between us that feels too comfortable too quickly. The kind of sizzle that builds without you noticing until it’s just there, humming in the air.
Aurora sets her empty glass down, pushing it slightly to the side as she stands.
“Well, I guess I should be getting back,” she says, stretching, ready to slip out unnoticed, but I’m not letting that happen.
I set my glass down, standing up with her. "I’ll walk you home."
She shoots me a quick smile, waving me off. “I’m fine, really.”
I raise an eyebrow, my stare locking onto hers without saying a word. There’s no softness in it, just a calm, firm command that somehow lets her know I’m not asking, I’m telling.
Aurora looks at me, her mouth quirking into a smile that makes everything stir in my chest. “You don’t have to, Zane. I’m good.”
But I’m not having it. I’m not letting her walk out alone, no matter how much she protests.
“No.”
It’s the kind of quiet insistence that I don’t use often, but when I do, it’s usually for a good reason. I know it’s still daylight, and I’m sure it’s safe here, but my guard is always high. It has to be because of how I’ve lived.
A slight tension flickers across her features before she exhales a soft laugh.
“Fine. You win.” She rolls her eyes playfully, but there’s no anger in it, just a quiet acceptance. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“I try,” I say, offering her a small, approving grin as I grab my jacket.
I make sure to stay close as we head toward the door, my hand naturally falling into the pocket of my jacket where my keys jingle. Aurora walks ahead, but I match her stride, falling into a rhythm beside her, the silence between us comfortable. The air outside has that crisp bite to it, the kind of cold that makes your skin prickle just enough to keep you awake.
It’s when we’re about halfway down the street that the tension between us starts to feel almost tangible. She talks about the town’s little quirks, the way Coyote Glen still feels like it’s stuck in time, and I listen, letting her words settle in my mind.
But I can’t stop the way my eyes occasionally dart to her, taking in the way the light plays off her features, the way her lips curve into those small smiles that somehow make everything feel more real.
She catches me looking once, and the briefest flicker of understanding passes between us, unspoken but there. And Ifeel it, the pull between us, that magnetic, undeniable chemistry. It’s burning in the way our arms brush accidentally, in the moments when our gazes meet and hold just a little too long.
We continue walking, and the soft crunch of our footsteps fills the silence. The path feels longer than it should; everything between us is stretching out with it. I don’t know why, but I want to keep walking beside her. I don’t want this moment to end… not yet, anyway.
“So, what’s next for you, after this?” I ask, breaking the silence, needing to know more about what’s going on in that head of hers.
Aurora’s smile falters, just enough for me to catch it.
