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Oh fuck, I’m hard too.
Hands claw at my back, fingers flexing. “Mason…”
I hang my head, chin to chest, staring at the thin, barely existent space between us, imagining what our dicks look like like this, straining against our jeans, seeking each other out.
What would it feel like bare?
“We…we can’t do this here,” he barely manages to choke out, and I tense.
Lifting my head, I meet his hooded gaze, and it doesn’t escape me how fucking wrecked he looks right now. Black lashes coated with the rain that comes down harder and colder now. Cheeks damp and flushed. Lips red and swollen.
Me. I did that.
His throat bobs, jaw tensing with his gulp.
And again, he says, “We can’t do this here.” This time, he whispers it. And I trace each word from his kiss-swollen mouth.
We can’t do this here.
We can’t do this…
Here.
And then it hits me.
I turn to stone, tensing everywhere. My gaze flings to his, my eyes widening.
Here. The cemetery.
Izzy.
Oh God, what did I do?
His face hardens, eyes darker than they were moments ago, now burning with agony. And I’m shaking my head, begging him without words to fix this…make it go away…make me forget…
But it’s too late.
I already remember.
Izzy…
And there’s no forgetting.
No taking what just happened back.
Stumbling back a couple steps, I don’t take my unblinking gaze off his, my mouth opening and closing as I struggle to speak. To breathe.
Jeremy’s jaw quivers, his nose flaring. The lips that were so red and full a moment ago are now flattened into a bloodless line.
I shake my head. “What…”
He pushes off the car—the car I just fucking pinned him to as I kissed him. Him. Jeremy. My girlfriend’s brother of all fucking people in the universe.
Dead girlfriend’s brother.
My eyes screw shut just as I throw out a hand, halting his approach. “Don’t.”
“Mase—”
