Nolan Traore had been staring at the same page of his tactics textbook for forty-seven minutes.
The words blurred together. Something about flanking maneuvers and optimal positioning for Catalyst-types in urban environments. Information he'd memorized two years ago. Information that meant absolutely nothing right now because his brain refused to process anything except the conversation he'd had with Aurora that morning.
She'd told him. Actually told him. Sat across from him at breakfast with her hands wrapped around a coffee mug and her eyes not quite meeting his and said the words he'd been dreading since Rome D'Angelo walked back into their lives like he owned the place.
Things are complicated. I need time to figure out what I'm feeling. I kissed him. It happened. I'm not going to pretend it didn't.
Nolan closed the textbook. Set it on his desk with more force than necessary.
