Page 18

A fter Aubree and I make up, the next few weeks follow the same routine. I work out, go to class, go to practice, go to games, and spend as much time with Aubree as humanly possible. Besides just showing up between her classes with her favorite snacks and drink, I tutor her every Monday and Thursday, eat lunch with her on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, see her at my games on Fridays, and then make excuses to see her on the weekends too. Whether it be parties at the house, or dinner with the team, I make the bullshit plans, and Evie’s connection to Jake ensures that Aubree is always tagging along.

It’s fucking perfect.

What’s not perfect are my fucking balls. Never in my twenty-one years on earth have I ever suffered with such sexual frustration. I’m practically a born again virgin, and have started to forget what sinking into a delicious wet pussy feels like. Something I could easily do whenever I want, it’s not like I’m short of attention, girls still throw themselves at me everyday. No, the problem is my cock is only interested in one fucking girl, and that girl is Aubree fucking Callows. The one who has moved past her boyfriend’s bullshit and is still fucking dating him. I had to listen to them talk the other night on the phone, even though she excused herself from the room, and it took everything in me not to slam my fist into the fucking wall.

I really don’t get what she sees in that fucking tool, but like the good friend I am, I have kept my mouth shut. Even if I am almost positive there is something going on between him and her best friend. It’s not really my place to speculate, so instead I show her what it’s like to be surrounded by friends who appreciate her, and just hope that one day soon she will see that prick for who and what he really is.

Right now, I’m waiting outside her first class of the day, with an iced latte and a chocolate chip cookie I stole from Daemon’s stash. He made them fresh last night, and after I stole four, he took them away and hid them, but then he once again got distracted by his boyfriend's cock, so I found them and stole four more. I ate two and saved two for Aubree, because I’m nice like that, and when her class lets out, I search the crowd for her in anticipation.

It takes me approximately sixty-seconds to realize she isn’t there, and I frown at the nameless girls who try to get my attention, as I pull out my phone. I search for Aubree’s number and click call, and it rings a few times before being sent to voicemail. I quickly end the call and move to find the next contact I need. Harper’s Ball & Chain .

Again the call rings a few times, but then Evie answers, and before she can even finish her greeting, I snap, “Where the hell is Aubree? I’m outside her first class and she isn’t here.”

“Well, hello to you too, Reign,” she drawls back sarcastically, and I roll my eyes.

“Good morning, Evie, great weather we’re having, I hope your day is bloody fantastic, now where is your roommate?” I huff in frustration, and now I’m sure she is the one rolling her eyes.

“She’s not in today, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so she stayed home, I’m going to check on her at lunch,” she explains, but I’m already stalking from the building with no intention of going to my next class.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” I reply, ending the call before she can refute me, and then I am en route to one place and one place only.

Aubree’s apartment.

I make the short drive off campus, and when I arrive at the building I note all the new changes with approval, as I climb from my car and make my way inside. The new building manager handled everything like a pro, and both the interior and exterior are sporting fresh white paint. Lights and security cameras have also been added all around the perimeter, and a new secure lock system was installed at the entrance. The inside has been updated with new decor including lights, plants, and pictures, and new flooring has been installed throughout. All in all it looks like a brand new place, and when Aubree commented in passing that the new changes were awesome, well, I felt like I was on top of the fucking world.

When I reach her door I deliver three sharp knocks, and when they go unanswered, I deliver three more, louder this time. I hear some shuffling on the other side, and a few more seconds arrive before Aubree finally cracks open the door and peeks out. When she sees it’s me her eyes widen a little, but still she opens the door a little more to reveal herself still in her pajamas.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice almost breaking, but my only focus is on the two tiny pieces of fabric she is trying to pass off as nightwear.

Holy mother of her god.

“Fuck me, Aubree, warn a guy before you answer the door like that, you’re going to give my dick a heart attack,” I groan, forcing my stare to the ceiling so I can try and keep my cock under control, but it’s no use. After weeks of no action outside of my right fucking hand, he’s hard as a fucking rock at the sight of her.

“Can we not today, Alexander, I’m really not in the mood,” she sighs, more than used to my shit, and my eyes instantly snap back to hers.

The usual emerald green of hers is darker and more muted than usual, and they are completely rimmed in red, as if she has been crying. I internally swear on her god, and every other god out there, that if that tiny little dicked wanker has made her cry again, that not even the devil himself will stop me.

“You don’t look sick,” I say calmly, willing both my cock and head to remain under control, and she frowns in confusion.

“What?”

“Evie said you were sick, but you don’t look sick, you just look sad,” I tell her, and the tension in her shoulders drops, as she steps back even further and silently signals for me to enter.

I push inside and close the door, following after her as she pads barefoot to the kitchen, forcing myself not to look at all the skin she has on display. I watch as she quickly throws some tissues into the bin, before turning to me with a sad smile.

“It’s my mom’s birthday,” she finally admits, and though the tension leaves me completely, the sinking feeling inside of me doesn’t. This is the first birthday since her mum died. Fuck. I don’t even get chance to respond before a tear slips down her cheek and she gasps, “I just wanted to go see her, but my car is in the shop, and I called Ben and he didn’t answer, my dad is busy, and I haven’t spoken to Malorie in a couple of weeks, and it’s just not a good day.” Her words rush out all in one breath, as she lets out a choked cry, and I rush around the kitchen island, immediately pulling her into a hug.

As soon as my arms are around her she breaks, sobbing into my chest, and all I can do is stand there and console her, because it doesn’t matter how much money or power I have, I can’t bring people back from the dead, but right now in this moment, I really wish I fucking could.

I’m not sure how long we stay like that, with her in my arms allowing me to comfort her, but when she eventually calms down and pulls away, she looks beyond embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, a red tint staining her cheeks, as she takes in the wet marks her tears left behind on my shirt.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I reassure her, reaching out to swipe away the last of her tears. “Now go and get dressed,” I demand, and once again her frown returns.

“Why?”

“You mean besides for the sanity of my cock?” I ask with a huff, reaching down to readjust myself, and she flushes even further. “Because we are going to see your mum of course, now chop chop, I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Her stare holds mine for a few seconds as if searching for the joke, but when I hold it with a glare, she throws herself at me again, squeezing me tightly in her arms. “Thank you, Alexander,” she mutters into my chest, and giving up on my cock going down anytime soon, I hug her back with a sigh.

“Anything for you, Trouble,” I reply honestly, and she pulls back with a shy smile, before excusing herself to get dressed.

I use the moment of privacy to fire off a quick text to Duchess.

Alexander - I need something

Duchess - Is it finding you a good therapist?

Duchess - Because if so I already have a few on speed dial

Alexander - No I ended up fucking my last two, it was a total nightmare

Duchess - Did you know you provide a hostile work environment?

Alexander - Yes now can you shut up and do your job?

Duchess - What does my evil master need today?

I quickly explain what I need and all she does is reply with a bunch of whip emojis, but still I know she will get it done.

Aubree appears not long after, dressed in a purple cashmere sweater with the corresponding silk skirt, both from my mother’s collection, and I once again will my cock to calm the fuck down, but of course the fucker doesn’t listen.

It’s going to be a long drive.

The drive itself is mostly quiet, and it isn’t until we get close to where Aubree and I first met that she starts to perk up a little. I see her eyes trailing over things in nostalgia, and when I push her a little she starts to point out all her favorite spots, telling me stories from when she grew up. I offer a few of my own, although for some reason she wasn’t interested in where my favorite strip club is. Either way it feels nice to kick back and get to know each other a little better, but the second we pull up to the cemetery, that happy and carefree version of her disappears once more.

“You can wait here if you want, I won’t be long,” she starts, moving to unbuckle her seatbelt, but I already have mine undone, and I am exiting the car and rounding to her side before she can even reach for the handle.

I open her door and she shakes her head at me a little in exasperation, as I hold out my hand for her to lead the way. We walk in silence as she guides me to her mother’s grave, and once we reach it, I notice her mum and her grandma are buried side by side. I recognize the names from the information Duchess gave me when I first asked about her, and it’s only now that I mildly wonder about her father. She’s only mentioned him once in passing, the first time she had dinner at the house, and again this morning saying she called him, but aside from that I know nothing about him, and his information wasn’t included in her background check. I remind myself to ask Duchess about it later, before focussing back on the present.

Aubree freezes as we reach a spot a few paces from the headstone, and eyes the fresh violets and irises that now litter her mother’s grave. When she turns and eyes me in question, I shrug.

“What? Every woman should get flowers on her birthday, and these are apparently the flowers of February,” I muse, explaining half of the favor that I asked of Duchess. Apparently each month has flowers to represent it, who knew?

Aubree smiles at me sadly. “They’re beautiful, Alexander, thank you.”

Her words are laced in sadness, and I fucking hate it.

“It’s no big deal, I’ve got to get in your mother's good graces somehow, isn’t that right, Miss C,” I joke, moving toward the headstone and rubbing the top of it gently with my hand. “Why don’t you give your poor daughter some sort of sign, so she dumps that awful youth pastor and starts dating me instead,” I add with a wink, and Aubree snorts a laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells me, shaking her head at me, but still I can’t help but feel like I have won something at her lighter expression.

“Yeah, but I’m an idiot that made you smile, so I guess I win,” I reply with a shrug, and her eyes soften as she looks at me. “I’ll give you ladies some privacy,” I add, before moving toward her and dropping a kiss to her head, whispering, “Take all the time you need, love, I’ll be waiting.”

I head back to the car, jump up on the front, and lean back, letting the winter sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds warm my skin. Aubree sits down in the grass between both headstones and falls apart once more, I don’t move to comfort her, knowing she needs this, and knowing that she understands I’m here for her. After she is done crying, the soft murmurs of her voice filter into the air, as she tells them both about life in Fairfield, and about how a certain hockey player is a pain in the ass. I wonder who that could be?

By the time she makes her way back over to me, her eyes are red and swollen, her cheeks blotchy, and she looks as if she could sleep for a week.

“You look like you need a drink,” I muse, slipping off the hood, and to my surprise, she nods.

“I think I do,” she admits weakly, with a laugh, and when my eyebrows rise in surprise, she shrugs. “What? I’m not all devout and holy all the time,” she replies with a laugh, already sounding less stressed after coming here, and I can’t help but smirk.

“Well come on then, Trouble, I know just the place.”