Page 99 of The Heart Breaker

And those are dangerous thoughts to have.

“Okay,” she says, dragging me out of my head. “You can turn around now.”

“Finally,” I murmur under my breath as I turn to look at her and?—

Holy fuck.

She’s wearing a ripped band tee that slips off one shoulder and shows a strip of stomach every time she moves. Denimshorts hug her hips and leave her legs bare for miles, and she’s done something to her eyes, her makeup a little darker than usual, making her blue eyes pop that much more.

Her cheeks go pink under my stare. “Well?”

She’s so fucking beautiful it knocks every thought out of my head. All I can do is stand here, staring at her.

But I just shrug instead, because there’s no chance I’m saying any of the shit that’s swirling in my head.

Her brows pull together. “Does that mean you don’t like it?”

I lift a brow. “You need my approval now?”

She frowns. “No. I just…” She cuts herself off with a sigh and drops her gaze. “Forget it.”

She wants it.

Aurora usually walks into a room like she owns the damn place and dares anyone to question it, so the fact that she wants my opinion now has me pushing off the bed and stepping right into her space. My hand catches at her waist, turning her back toward me until those blue eyes lift to mine.

“You look beautiful,” holding her gaze for a second before my gaze drags down the rest of her, landing on the fuzzy slippers on her feet, and the corner of my mouth lifts. “You need some different shoes, though.”

A laugh slips out of her, and something in my chest jolts.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, turning back toward her closet. “I was thinking about these.” She holds up a pair of heeled boots, but then hesitates, her teeth catching her bottom lip. “I just don’t know if I should, since…”

“Since what?” I ask.

She looks like she’s considering saying it, but then sighs. “Chase used to hate when I wore heels if I was with him,” she says. “He always said I was too tall for them.”

I let out a scoff, shaking my head. “Your boyfriend’s a fucking pussy.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “Ex-boyfriend,” she says.

Right.

Doesn’t stop me from picturing him saying that to her and wanting to go back in time and knock his teeth out.

I step closer and hook my thumb under her chin, tipping her face up until she’s looking at me. “Wear the heels, Prescott,” I tell her. “They’re hot as fuck.”

She blinks up at me, and I can’t help wondering how the hell this happened so fast.

I used to hate her. Wanted nothing to do with her. Then somehow that turned into wanting her in my bed. Then wanting her to stay there. Then driving across town and dropping way too much money on concert tickets just because she’d looked disappointed and I couldn’t leave it alone.

I step back before I can stand there thinking about any of that for too long. “Ready?”

I turn toward the door, but her fingers catch on the sleeve of my jacket, stopping me. I glance back at her, and for once there’s none of her usual attitude. There’s no glare or smartass comment, just a soft, sincere look in her eyes that works itself into my body, making me wish I could stop time to just look at her.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling softly at me.

My mind goes back to sitting in my room for hours, scrolling through resale sites, watching the prices climb higher and higher, telling myself to leave it alone, that it was too expensive, too much effort. That I had no business dropping that kind of money when I should be saving every extra dollar for Sophie.

But I still bought them, because I knew how happy it would make her.