End Game

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Aurora

I stared at my phone, my thumb hovering over Nate's name. I wanted to call him—not just because I owed him an explanation, though I did. Not just because things had been painfully awkward when he walked into my dorm and found Daniel there. No, I wanted to call because I wanted him. The memory of his hands on me, the way he made me feel, kept replaying in my head like a song I couldn't shut off. I needed to feel him again. Nothing since had come close to shaking that ache.

Two days had passed, and the weight of that awkwardness—everything unsaid—still clung to me.

Daniel had left this morning, flying back to Connecticut, but not before laying out a plan. Really, his plan—a way to keep our parents off my back. He'd promised to tell them he'd "talked some sense" into me, that I was fine, that the breakup with William was nothing more than me figuring myself out. He'd even suggested they believe William and I might patch things up—because coming from him, they'd swallow it whole.

It wasn't what I wanted, but it bought me time. Breathing room. For once, I could just... live. And for that, I was grateful. Daniel, for all his flaws, had shown up when I needed him. He was the only one in our family who seemed to really see me—not the polished version our parents demanded, but me.

Still, he made me promise I'd come home for Christmas, to keep up appearances. And I agreed, because I hated how right he was. You can't keep poking at them and expect them not to react, he'd said, and deep down, I knew he was right.

But even with that pressure temporarily eased, all I could think about was Nate. I should call him. I needed to explain. But the truth was, it wasn't just about clearing the air. I wanted him to pull me close again, to make me forget the rest of the world. Selfish or not, the pull toward him was stronger than the fear of what it might mean.

Lost in thought, I nearly walked straight into TJ.

He looked like he'd just stepped off the field and straight into an ad campaign—hair damp from a shower, curling in that perfectly messy way, a fitted UCLA hoodie stretched across his broad shoulders. He gave me that easy, practiced grin, and before I could stop myself, I smiled back.

Guilt hit me instantly, sharp and hot. How could I even look at TJ like that when Nate was still tangled up in every thought I had? My chest tightened, the ache for Nate only sharper now, as if smiling at someone else was a betrayal—even if it was just TJ and his charm, which he spread around like confetti.

"Well, if it isn't Aurora," TJ says, his voice warm and teasing. "You're not avoiding me, are you?"

I laugh lightly, caught a little off guard. "Avoiding you? I didn't realize I needed a reason to."

He clutches his chest in mock injury. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a good time at the pub the other night."

I raise a brow, playing along because it's easier than being rude. "A good time? That's all it was?"

He chuckles, leaning in just slightly. "You caught me. I had a great time. In fact, I was tempted to reach out to you, but... didn't want to seem too eager."

There's something in his grin, a boldness I don't remember seeing before. TJ's always been friendly—easy company. Flirting back shouldn't be harmful, right? Even if every part of me is restless, wishing it were Nate standing here instead.

"Oh, you didn't want to seem eager?" I smirk, crossing my arms. "I didn't peg you as the shy type, TJ."

"Shy? No," he says with a glint in his eyes. "Strategic? Maybe. But I was hoping I'd bump into you again soon. Guess the universe has my back today."