Page 132 of Whit


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He bristles, and I manage a small, forced smile for him. He’s wearing a polka dot long-sleeve shirt, purple pants, and a pair of wing-tipped shoes. He looks adorable, like a pet.

“Why do you all insist on patting me on the head,” he mutters, and I pat his head again. He deserves it, the lying little shit.

“Let’s go in before people wonder why we’re late,” I say.

Mag nods and opens the door for me.

“No need to keep kissing my ass, Mag. I forgive you for betraying me,” I say, and he blushes in annoyance.

“You made it!” Bev says, pulling me into a hug as soon as I step inside. People I recognize mill around, chatting. Streamers hang from the ceiling. It's the annual New Years' LGBTQIA get-together, and I couldn'tnotcome. Magnus practically dragged me here.

“Have you heard from him?” Bev asks, her eyes worried.

I shake my head, my stomach clenching. The last time I was here, Whit was with me. They know. They all know what happened. That we broke up, that he didn’t choose me.

Sad, pitying eyes stare back at me, and I smile slightly. No one wants to see a broken man. They’d never know what to do with me if I really let it show how broken up I am about this.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine,” I tell Bev and then say it louder so everyone else can hear.

But the truth is, I’m not fine. I’m a fucking liar.

I sling my arm over Magnus’ shoulders and pull him forward. He stumbles a little under the weight of me leaning against him.

“Little weakling,” I say, and he scowls up at me.

“I’m not weak. I’m just normal-sized. Unlike you, weirdo.”

I snort and dip my shoulder down, and swing him over my shoulder. “You’re pint-sized.”

“Put me down,” he squirms, and I tickle his side until he’s squealing with laughter. The sound makes me smile genuinely for the first time in weeks.

“Never,” I say and tickle him some more.

When we finally make it to the other side of the room, Magnus is begging to be let go, so I take pity on him and let him slide down my front.

But he clutches on and clings to me like a monkey. His legs wrapped around me, his ankles hooked against my lower back.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyebrows drawn together as he attaches himself to me like Velcro.

“I’m going smother you,” Magnus says, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

I poke at his side, and he only clutches on tighter.

This asshole.

The more I try and remove him, the tighter he gets. He’s like a jumping cactus. I can’t get rid of him.

“Get off me,” I say with a loud laugh.

“Shouldn’t have thrown me over your shoulder and tickled me. And I am not pint-sized,” he growls like a tiny kitten and then increases his grip on me.

I dig my fingers into his sides, but he continues to stick. I finally give up and sag against a wall, him still wrapped around me.

“Okay, I give up,” I mutter, out of breath. This little shit is determined.

“You surrender?” he asks, leaning his face back and looking at me.

I narrow my eyes at him, and he pats my cheek. “Was good to hear you laugh again, big man.”

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