Page 92 of Loverboy

The first line of the message was visible on the display.

Oliver: Hey, I really miss hanging out with you…

Like a parasite that couldn’t let go of its host.

I didn’t react immediately. I waited, watching Milo sit back and grab that god-forsaken phone out of the cup holder and unlock it, swiping to the text. The longer he stared at it, the thinner my patience grew.

“Are you really going to answer that?” I tried to keep my voice calm.

I never considered myself the jealous type. Territorial, maybe.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“Just ignore him.”

The repeated sound of typing and erasing over the stereo was my own personal hell.

“I feel bad,” he justified with a pout.

“I don’t.”

“He’s always been there for me.”

“Because he still wants you.” I scowled.

Everyone always wanted him. He had the gravitational pull of the sun and scorched anyone who got too close.

“I’m sure it would be fine,” he drawled. “I’ve told him a dozen times that it’s not happening.”

“I don’t give a shit.” My fingers dug into his thigh. “He doesn’t have the self-respect to take a hint. I’m not like Sofia, Milo. I won’t stand there like a fucking wallflower if he drinks too much at a party and starts crying about how much he wishes he could be with you.”

Milo locked his phone, thumb rubbing over the black screen.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” I loosened my grip on his thigh and glared at him. “You’re just mine.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyes darkened. “What if I still want to be friends with him?”

I was being fucking baited.

My fingers brushed higher, ghosting over the half-hard outline of his cock in his jeans before pulling back completely. My twisted brother was getting a kick out of pushing me to my limit, but I wouldn’t give him what he was looking for.

“By all means,” I challenged, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms, legs spread. “Message him back, if that’s what you want.”

He wouldn’t dare.

“Go on,” I goaded him. “Do it.”

Tongue-tied, Milo dropped his phone back into the cup holder and put both hands on the steering wheel, probably imagining strangling me. I could practically hear steam coming out of his ears, hot and frustrated, and I fucking loved it.

I whistled. “Nothing, huh?”

“I’m gonna shove that pyramid up your ass.” He pressed the gas, but the car was still in park.

“Sure, but you might want to put the car into reverse first.” I grinned.

The trail of curses that left his mouth made my chest vibrate with suppressed laughter, and I had to cover my mouth to keep it contained. I loved everything about the way things were now and, no matter what, I was never going to give it up.