Page 49 of Loverboy

“Only me,” I sobbed, my chest heaving. “If you aren’t looking at me, I might—”

Arms wrapped around me, and the familiar scent of menthol and pot enveloped my senses. I wasn’t done being angry yet. I hit his chest wildly, and he only squeezed me tighter, making it harder to move.

“Milo.”

“Go away!” I pleaded, clinging to the remnants of my outrage and fighting every instinct to melt into his embrace.

My eyes stung and snot poured out of my nose, but I pushed at his chest harder this time, and he released me. Glaring, I shoved past him to go to my bedroom, only to be yanked back.

“Quit screwing around,” he said, this time wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pressing my back flush against his chest. I could still feel the outline of his cock pressing into me, keeping me trapped in the moment where I opened that stupid fucking door.

“I hate you!” I cried, trying to pry his arms away.

“You can pretend you hate me all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.” He rested his chin on my shoulder, his breathing matching my own, erratic and out of control.

“Fuck you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Leave me alone.”

I wasn’t ready to give in. I peeled away from him once more, and this time he didn’t try to keep me. I ran straight to my room, slamming the door shut with my back, sliding down it until I hit the floor.

22

Milo

HAVING A FALLING out with Jasper felt alien. It was wrong in a way that made my skin crawl. Since the day Mom had taken me in, we’d never had a real fight. Most siblings I knew fought, screaming and slamming doors, but we had always been the opposite. People joked that we talked like we shared a brain, trading inside jokes and references that nobody else could follow. It was special. We were special.

I was furious. For two days, the scene I’d walked in on replayed in my head on a merciless loop, reigniting my rage every time I thought it might finally simmer. And Jasper? He had zero reaction to me icing him out.

I wanted conflict. I wanted him to hurt the way I was hurting, but he wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. Instead, he softened the sharp edges between us with small talk, acting like the entire thing hadn’t happened, and pushed through strained chats in the hallway and around the coffee pot in the mornings while I spiralled internally over every question I was too afraid to ask. He was waiting me out, I fucking knew it. This wasn’t even about what happened anymore. It was about who folded first—a game that I refused to lose.

He hadn’t been there for me when I needed him. It was unforgivable. Wasn’t I more important than a quick fuck? With my best friend, no less? It was supposed to be the two of us. Whenever the nightmares came, whenever the horrible, empty feelings crept in, he was supposed to be there to chase them all away.

I didn’t want to know why he fucked Oliver. There wasn’t an explanation on the face of the Earth that would justify it, and the only thing I wanted was for him to beg for my forgiveness and promise it would never happen again.

I just wanted things to be normal, whatever normal was, only I didn’t have the right to demand those things. I didn’t own him. I couldn’t stop him from making friends or taking lovers. Those weren’t things reserved for brothers. He wasn’t mine to keep.

I didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand myself.

All I knew was that I was scared. I was terrified that someday someone might become more important than me. He’d finish school, maybe find someone, get married—God, imagining it made me fucking sick. The idea of Jasper no longer being available when I needed him, of his time being swallowed up by other people, felt like a death sentence.

My phone went off three times in quick succession.

Oliver: Come on, Mi.

Oliver: It wasn’t serious.

Oliver: Please talk to me.

I brushed my thumb over the phone screen, rereading every message Oliver had sent since the blow-up, sinking deeper into the driver’s seat of my freezing car. Winter was too close to linger outside much longer with the engine off, my joints stiff and knuckles red.

Staying out here meant risking caving and replying to one of Oliver’s messages. Going inside meant dancing around whatever the hell was happening between Jasper and me. Neither option was appealing.

In the passenger seat were bags of liquor and snacks. Jasper didn’t know it yet, but it was party night. I’d already sent out the invites, and there was no going back.

I needed to act out.

As I reached for the door handle, my phone lit up again. This time, it was a text from my friend Nina, asking about tonight. I grinned and sent her a quick response to let her know we were still on.

Tonight was all about pushing Jasper’s buttons and shattering his sense of control. He said I could never be too much for him, and tonight, we were going to find out how true that was.