Page 99 of Loverboy

That’s why I was sitting in the bar parking lot at midnight, with half an hour left in Jasper’s shift. I’d tried to talk myself out of going to see him all night, but he’d stopped texting me back halfway through. It wasn’t anything unusual. He was working.

I was trying so fucking hard not to do the things that always got me in trouble with my previous partners. I couldn’t fuck it up, not with him. I should have ignored the little voice in my head and driven home, but my worst impulses carried me out of the car. It was freezing, the snow crunching beneath my boots as I made my way to the entrance.

When I pulled the door open, a blast of warmth hit me from inside. I’d never been to his work before, and bars never had the greatest pictures on Google. There was no way to map out the interior ahead of time, no way to prepare myself. It should have been enough to keep me away. I was acutely aware of how crazy I was being.

So why couldn’t I stop it?

The bar was rustic. String lights hung from the ceiling, and classic rock played over the speakers. It wasn’t packed, which wasn’t a surprise on a Thursday night. The work week wasn’t over yet. When my eyes landed on the bar, I saw Jasper immediately, and my stomach flipped.

Fuck.

He looked so good. I liked winter, and I liked it even more when it meant seeing him in a black form-fitting turtleneck, the chain that held a piece of me hanging around his neck, glinting under the lights as he moved around, preparing drinks.

I hated that other people got to see him, too.

For a brief moment, I considered that the only viable option to make sure he stayed mine might be to chain him to my bed and never let him leave the apartment. That was an inside thought. A crazy, unnecessary one that I’d never act on.

But it would be nice.

He didn’t notice me right away. I watched him from the other side of the room, stupidly in love and too embarrassed to let him know I was there. Maybe it was safer just to look at him for a few minutes and then leave, knowing he was exactly where he said he would be—not ignoring me on purpose, not cheating on me, not dead in a ditch somewhere.

Another guy working at the bar said something to Jasper that I couldn’t hear from so far away, but it made him laugh. Jealousy twisted in my chest, and I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t march over there and embarrass myself.

Instead, I went through a mental list of all the reasons I had nothing to worry about. For one, Jasper hated everyone—everyone but me. Secondly, he’d moved in with me. Which meant I knew where he slept, and if he ever thought for a second about going anywhere, I would—

He was looking at me. At first, he looked annoyed, but then a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. I watched closely as he mouthed something, but I still didn’t understand what he was saying, too focused on the movement and the much more important things that I knew his mouth was capable of.

I might have gotten ten times more annoying after our relationship became public knowledge. But it wasn’t scaring him away as I’d anticipated. The worse I acted up, the harder he held on.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I reached for it.

Jasper: Stalking me?

I looked at him again, ears burning.

Jasper: Come here.

It was far too hot in my jacket. I took my walk of shame over to the bar and slipped into the stool across from him, my hands in my lap, head hanging. I waited for him to finish serving someone else, only looking up when he leaned over the bar, folding his hands on the counter in front of me.

“Miss me?” he accused.

“No,” I denied instinctively, crossing my arms over my chest.

It only amused him more.

“You can’t just show up here while I’m working.”

“It’s a bar,” I stated. “Maybe I just wanted a drink.”

“There’s alcohol at home.”

“This is fancier alcohol.”

“Right, right.” He grinned.

“And it comes with a view,” I argued.

“Are you objectifying me?”