Page 93 of Loverboy

40

Milo

OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM window, snow fell from the muddy sky. The kind that wouldn’t stick and would melt away by morning, the weather struggling to choose a lane. I glanced down at my phone every few minutes, feeling horribly unprepared for the evening ahead.

Time kept moving, no matter how much I pleaded with it to slow down.

“Are you ready to go?” Jasper wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my back against his chest. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his breath tickling my neck.

“No.” I pouted.

I had spent the last hour hyper-fixating on cataloging my photography equipment, responding to emails I’d been avoiding, and addressing everything else I needed to do to get back on my feet. Jasper had taken care of everything all month long, and the longer I sat around, the more unbalanced our relationship felt. The more he poured into me, the more I worried about not being enough. I needed to do more, to be more.

What did I have to contribute? What did I really have to offer him?

The idea of it just being me was preposterous.

“You don’t have to do everything all at once,” he muttered.

“Yes, I do,” I insisted. It was an excellent distraction from what felt like the moment my life was going to implode. This dinner was going to kill me.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Unreliable source, as usual.” He gave me a tight squeeze and then released me.

I turned to him and placed my hands on his chest. The way he was dressed only made me more anxious—a well-fitting sweatshirt, the collar of a dress shirt peeking out, and a nice pair of jeans. I couldn’t manage to find a pair of jeans that weren’t riddled with holes, and the most acceptable thing I’d found in my entire wardrobe was a plain black t-shirt.

Was it really okay for me to stand next to someone who had their shit together and call them mine?

“Breathe,” he reminded me, thumb brushing a gentle circle into my side.

I wasn’t breathing at all. My attention was squarely focused on the chain hanging from his neck and the unforgettable vial dangling at the bottom, my blood still there, dark and coagulated inside.

It was only on the surface that Jasper was perfect.

Underneath, he was all twisted up just like me.

I finally exhaled. “What happens if she disowns us?”

It felt stupid to say out loud. Mom had been nothing but good to me over the years, but I still worried that things would go sideways. Maybe she’d seen us as her sons—as brothers—for too long, and the shift in our relationship would be too weird for her.

Maybe she thought I wasn’t a good candidate for loving her son.

And she’d be right.

I’d always been a bad influence. I’d skipped school so much that I’d eventually dropped out altogether. I smoked, I drank, and I was always partying. It was a miracle she’d never tossed me back out on the curb after taking me in, and yet, she always gave me more than I ever deserved. Now, it felt like I was stealing something from her.

“What do you want to happen?”

I blinked slowly, the question yanking me out of my spiral.

“You can’t leave me.” I stared up at him with quiet resolution.

“Is that so?”

“I’d kill you before you could.”