I don’t.
That may be the only decent decision I make all day.
The relief hits immediately. Real. Significant. I hadn’t realized how much of my range I’d lost until it comes back all at once.
I look at her.
All of her. The chaos of her hair. The hands that found a two-week knot in four minutes. The laugh she didn’t mean to let out.
None of it’s going anywhere. That’s the problem.
“Better?” she says.
“Yeah,” I say. “Significantly.”
She gets her bag. Her iced coffee. Hits the door.
“Nova.”
She stops.
“Cap’s off the lotion bottle.”
She turns around. Puts the cap on. Doesn’t look at me.
“The sheet,” she says. “Give it my regards.”
She leaves.
I lie back.
The room’s still carrying her. Lotion. Coffee. Whatever’s in her hair.
My shoulder feels better.
That’s the least useful thing about this.
Chapter five
Nova
Ididn’tplantotellher anything.
I definitely didn’t plan to keep talking.
Aurora asked one question with her face and my mouth just kept going. I have now told Jax Mercer’s sister that I think her brother is interesting, and I can’t take it back. She has the kind of warmth that makes you hand her the truth without ever feeling cornered into it. Which would be great if I wasn’t currently doing exactly that. I’ve been talking for eleven minutes straight . I know this because I checked the clock at two minutes when I realized I was still going on, and I have not been able to stop since.
She hasn’t interrupted me once. That’s the problem. Most people fill the space. Ask the next question. Push. She just leaves it there. Like whatever I say is enough. And somehow that makesme say more, not less. Aurora’s quiet, turning her coffee cup between her hands.
“He’s been holding everything together since we were kids,” she says. “He built this team from nothing. He even left a better contract to do it. Never once asked anyone to notice.”
“Wow.”
I choose not to ask how. That feels smarter. Safer. Which probably tells me everything I need to know about the kind of mood I’m in.
“He’s a good man,” Aurora says, like I should already know that.
I look up, then stare back into my coffee.
