Page 168 of Redeemed

Thedayswhizbyso fast, it’s like they’re trying to break a new record. It took much longer than it should’ve to schedule some time to catch up with Aurora. The only time that worked for both of us—well, forme—is pretty early, and I need to get out of the door within the next three minutes if I want to get there before she does.

Which I need to.

Xander is making coffee in the kitchen, and I drop a kiss on his cheek as I rush past. But he grabs my arm and yanks me back, and despite me being much larger and much stronger, I stumble into him.

“I know you’ve got places to be, but you’re not walking out of here without giving me a proper kiss.”

Internally, I groan. Xander knows that when he uses that tone—confident dominance with a touch ofI know what’s best for you—all I want to do is drop to my knees and let him do whatever he wants to me. I don’t have time for that right now, though, and my dick isn’t very happy about it.

Taking hold of my chin, Xander pulls me in for a slow, languid kiss that steals all the tension from my body. When he releases me, he smiles.

“Yeah. Figured you needed that.”

It takes me a moment to regain my bearings. “Thanks.”

“Tell Rora I said hi.”

“Will do.”

And then I’m off, hopping on my bike and racing down the streets toward the coffee shop we’re meeting at. She always tries to beat me there so she can order the tiniest, lowest-calorie menu item, and it pisses me off. Not at her—never at her.

At Dad for never giving her any attention.

At the toxic world of ballet for worshiping thinness.

At her high school friends who competed with each other to see who could lose the most weight within a week.

They all played a part in giving Rora insecurities that, no matter what I try to do, are determined to stick around.

When I make it to the shop, I don’t see her car parked on the street, so I rush inside and order for both of us. I get myself a coffee and Rora a large hot chocolate. She comes in after a few minutes, her tiny frame wrapped up in her light pink peacoat that Greg bought her a few years ago. God, she’s so thin, it looks like a light breeze could blow her over.

When Aurora spots me, she smiles and waves, but my stomach drops. She looks exhausted. The spark in her eyes has faded once again, although she’s trying to fake it. I guarantee she has bags under her eyes, carefully hidden by the makeup she’s wearing.

“Hey.” She throws her arms around my neck. “How are you?”

“All right. You doing okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Both lying to each other, yet again.

“I’ve already got our drinks at our table,” I say.

Her smile wavers for a split second before she loops her arm through mine. I lead her to our table and take a few deep, even breaths. It’s all I can do to keep my thoughts from raging.

I hate ballet.

Fuckinghate it.

Once we’re seated, I take a sip of my coffee, hoping Rora will follow suit with her hot chocolate. “How are your classes going?”

Aurora is a junior, and just like me and Theo, she’s attending Pemberton University. Her plan is to graduate with a dance major, specializing in ballet, and get into a company as quickly as possible.

“They’re going fine,” she says with a shrug. “Boring, mostly, except for dancing. Hurt my ankle a few weeks ago, but it got better pretty fast.”

NowthatI don’t believe. Ever since Rora started dancing, I’ve watched a lot of her friends injure themselves. They always—always—start dancing again before their body is ready for it.

“You took it easy while it was healing?” I ask.

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