Page 91 of Loverboy

I needed to leave, not just the store, but the fucking planet.

“I don’t want them anymore,” I declared stubbornly.

“Maybe I want them.” Jasper picked them off the shelf.

“In my size?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

I begrudgingly followed him up to the front counter. The sales associate rang up our purchase, and I hastily slapped my debit card on the machine to soothe my humiliation. I was too fucking early, though, and the tip function was still on display. Jasper slapped my hand away, and then went on to pay once the tap-to-pay prompt popped up.

I hoped that if I glared at the receipt printing hard enough, it might burst into flames. The universe was unfortunately not on my side. He shoved the shoe box into my hands and began walking away.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re literally the worst?” I fumed quietly, taking long strides to catch up to him.

“A few people, at least.” He smirked.

“You’re so embarrassing.”

“You’re so easy to embarrass.”

I looked away, not willing to let him see the stupid smile on my face.

I couldn’t believe I ever tried leaving him behind.

39

Jasper

THERE WAS SOMETHING called cute aggression, and I had a raging case of it. Letting Milo lead me around the mall, watching him desperately try to please me, was more than I could take. I wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. I’d done my best to keep it internalized at the mall with the way Milo seemed to recoil any time I got too close, and now that we were in the car, I was starting to unravel.

I ran my fingers over the pyramid candle a few more times before tucking it back into the gift bag and setting it on the back seat next to his shoe box. Fuck, he was adorable when the mood struck him. If he could relax, I was sure I’d see even more of it from him.

The glimpses I’d gotten so far hadn’t been enough. I wanted all of the soft parts of him I’d been denied, every inch I’d watched him give so freely to others, only for them to mishandle him where I could have done better. I would have done it right, the way he’d always deserved.

It was clear that dinner with Mom was still on his mind. We’d discussed it several times, and I wanted to tell him the full scope of my plan, but it would only heighten his anxiety. He was going to spiral either way, so it was better to leave him in the dark—the less his self-sabotaging mind had to work with, the smoother things would go.

For him, this was new. Scary, even. But I’d been fantasizing about this for nearly a decade, imagining all the ways I’d treat him better each time a woman left him in shambles. If he thought he was too intense, I wasn’t sure what he’d think of all the subtle ways I’d contributed to the end of his relationships just to keep him close, even if I never believed I’d ever have him the way I wanted him.

Everything he hated about himself lived in me, too. I just hid it better.

“You really liked it?” Milo asked self-consciously, fidgeting with his keys instead of putting them in the ignition.

“Yeah,” I assured. “It was pretty cool.”

“Pretty cool,” he mocked, like the descriptor meant I’d secretly hated it because it wasn’t as enthusiastic as his brain would have liked.

“If I didn’t like it, you’d know.”

I leaned over the centre console, one hand settling on his leg as I crowded his space. He jumped slightly, his eyes darting to the driver’s side window, on high alert. I’d restrained myself enough for one day, and the temptation to get him worked up was too great.

“You know,” I started, already grinning. “Cops like to patrol the parkade. Just in case they find any incestuous brothers going at it in their cars. It’s a hot spot, from what I’ve heard.”

“You’re a dick.” He shoved the keys into the ignition and turned the engine over.

I leaned back in my seat. “And you get off on it.”

Milo ignored me and messed around with the car’s touchscreen, flipping through playlists. His phone was tossed haphazardly in one of the cup holders, and a text notification pinged through the stereo via the car’s Bluetooth.