Page 104 of Loverboy

A sob tore up my throat.

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither is abandoning me.”

I wasn’t trying to leave him all alone. But I wouldn’t take back what I did, even if I could, because without it, I might never be in this moment with him. I would have kept filling the void with things that never measured up to what he gave me.

Things that weren’t him.

He pressed forward, my legs aching and trembling as he held them, pushing me deeper into the bed. Every inch of him was a punishment and a reward wrapped into one. He peppered my cheeks with tender kisses, lips wet with my tears, until I was full of him.

“Fuck, Milo.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

He pulled back slowly, squeezing my thighs like a lifeline as every single one of my muscles clenched around his length until there was barely anything left of him. My insides pulsed and rippled with heat as he drove back into me, the angle allowing him so deep that my vision blurred at the edges.

“Jasper.” My throat was absolutely raw.

“Keep saying my name.”

The pace he set was torturous. Each time I called his name, he seemed to stall, like hearing it was going to be his final straw. I could feel it, too, the way his dick throbbed, barely managing to keep himself from falling apart.

Making him lose control made me feel good.

“Come for me,” I begged. “Please.”

And he obliged.

Jasper lost the careful rhythm he’d been holding onto, every snap of his hips bringing him back home, back to me. I drank in every twitch of muscle on his face, breathed in every breath like it was my own, utterly transfixed.

He kissed me when he came. It was sloppy, uncoordinated, and my lungs felt like they were being crushed—but I didn’t complain. I was too focused on the feeling of fullness as he spilled into me, his body going rigid before collapsing forward. He let my legs down slowly, but never left me.

I slid my hand under the back of his shirt, trailing my fingers up the length of his spine. His back carried both our weight, held all our burdens, and never seemed to break.

“Next time,” he said tiredly, pressing one last kiss to my lips. “If you want to die, take me with you.”

I grinned into it.

“Deal.”

45

Milo

ONE OF THE perks that comes with failing to kill yourself is seeing who shows up for you. It wasn’t my first time, but I knew now that it would be my last. The thought of leaving Jasper behind, of abandoning him—it made me fucking sick.

And I knew he wouldn’t let me, anyway.

Spring always felt like it was trying to mean something—the season of change, or whatever. For me, new beginnings looked like two pieces of paper stapled together, the details of a new lease printed on each page. My fingers trembled around the pen, black ink bleeding through the paper as I momentarily forgot my own name.

“What, sick of me already?” Jasper taunted.

“Shut up,” I muttered. “It’s a big deal.”

I wasn’t hesitating because I was unsure about living together again. What I was struggling with was the overwhelming fear of being the one to screw it all up. Like clockwork, I imagined all the ways future me would colossally ruin the single most important relationship I’d ever had. The only difference was that this time, I was fighting it. I resisted the way my body tried to convince me it was already happening, dragging the pen over every spot on the page that required my initials with determination.

My posture slumped as I stared down at my own handwriting, on par with that of a toddler from how badly I was shaking.

I cleared my throat.