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She covers her face with her palms, groaning softly.
“I know,” I tell her. “Take all the time you need, Sab. I’ll be here. Well, maybe not here…” I quickly correct, remembering my predicament. “I’m moving out later this week. Just call me when you’re ready. I’ll explain everything then.”
She sniffs. “Okay. Bye, Aurora.”
I hate the finality behind those three words. I watch as she walks out, and a part of me is terrified that I’ve lost my best friend.
When I close my eyes that night, I see Nico’s face. And even though I know that it was my choice to keep the truth hidden from Sabrina for so long, I can’t help but blame him for everything.
After all, none of this would have happened if he hadn’t left that night.
CHAPTER 12
NICO
My mind wanders in the shower, leaving the topic of my plans for the outfit and falling onto the woman who has plagued my dreams for years. Her brown eyes show up in my mind, the flecks of green in them more pronounced as she stares up at me. My cock hardens as I imagine Aurora in front of me, her nails raking across my flesh.
I groan softly before grabbing my cock, needing some release now that the picture of her naked is in my mind. A hiss escapes me as I pump myself once before rubbing the bead of arousal at the tip. My mind conjures up a series of sounds Aurora would make. The way she would scream her name as I fucked her from behind. Her breathy moans as my tongue stroked against hers.
Each tug against my cock sends a shot of heat down my spine. It’s easy to imagine what would happen if I had her, willing and wanting. I think of her on her knees in front of me, taking me in her mouth with a few slow licks up my shaft.
The pace of my hands over my cock increases, and it doesn’t take much to push me over the edge after that. Heat spreads through my veins and I let out a shuddering groan. My cum splashes against the tiles in the shower before being washed down the drain.
My breathing is ragged by the time I’m done. I run a hand through my hair in frustration, wondering why it’s so impossible to get her out of my mind. But knowing without a doubt that I’ll never be able to stop until she’s mine.
Unfortunately, the person who’ll fight the hardest is Aurora herself. Which means I need to proceed with caution. Soon enough, I’ll get what I want.
I stare intently at the cube in my hand, its colorful squares a chaotic mess. The bright reds, blues, greens, and yellows blur slightly as I focus, my mind already mapping out the patterns and sequences needed to solve it.
Starting with the top layer, I twist it to the side, aligning the reds. My fingers move with practiced ease, each turn deliberate and precise. I shift the middle layer, my thoughts aligning with the movements. Patterns emerge, strategies form. There’s a rhythm to this, a dance of logic and intuition. I can almost hear the ticking of an invisible clock, pushing me to solve it faster, more efficiently.
The greens start to fall into place, followed by the blues. Each correct alignment sends a rush of satisfaction through me. It’s a small victory in a larger battle. My fingers fly over the cube, the movements automatic, muscle memory taking over. I smirk as I rotate the last layer, feeling the final pieces click into place. The cube, once a jumble of colors, is now perfectly aligned, each face a solid block of color.
Once I’m done, my gaze moves toward the digital clock resting on my desk. Satisfaction washes over me. Two minutes. I just beat my last record. I place the cube on the desk, a rare sense of peace washing over me. It’s a peace I’m only able to achieve after successfully solving a Rubik’s cube. I’m hit with a burst of clarity, an assurance that no matter the complexity of any problem, I’ll find a solution.
And right now, I have a host of problems to deal with. Starting with my wife to be. She called me at eight p.m. and I slowly twirled a pen in my hand as I listened to what she had to say.
“What do you mean you don’t want to cancel your lease?” I ask slowly once she’s done.
“Did I accidentally speak in a language you’re incapable of understanding?” she questions. “No, I’m pretty sure I was speaking English when I told you I have no interest in giving up my home!”
I grit my teeth at her tone. It’s like she’s on a personal mission to figure out the many different avenues it’ll take to successfully press all my buttons.
“So, what’s your plan?” I ask flatly.
“My plan is simple. I’ll move into the compound with you for the previously agreed period of four months. And after those four months are up, I’ll move back into my apartment. After all, I will need somewhere to live when all this ends.”
All this ends?
It’s slightly adorable that she thinks it’ll be that easy for her to walk away from me. But I’m going to let her keep on believing it, because I have no interest in a fight that will inevitably end with her losing.
“Aurora,” I start, trying to reason with her. “What do you think is going to happen when someone from the outfit finds out that you still have a home somewhere else? We’re already tricking everybody by having a fake wedding, and now you want to complicate matters even more?”
“I don’t care about your stupid complications. I like this house,” she says stubbornly.
I rub the bridge of my nose before sitting forward in my chair and tightening my grip on the cell phone.
“Tell you what? Once the four months are over, I will personally make sure that a new contract is drawn up and your apartment returned to you, if you still want to live there that is.”
