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“What do you want, Carter?”
“Nate’s avoiding me.” He feigns a pout, and I roll my eyes at his stupidity.
“That’s probably because as soon as he comes near you, he’s gonna kick your ass.”
He laughs at that, glancing at something over my head as he moves toward his entertainment for tonight. “Funny, ‘cause it looks to me like he wants your ass a hell of a lot more than he wants mine.”
I ignore the way that fills me with both dread and heat all at once.
He didn’t mean it like that. He’s just trying to mess with me. Trying to fuck with my head and make me hope for something I have no business hoping for.
I feel heat at my back then, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up when I realize Nate’s right behind me. His hand comes into view as he rests it on the island next to my hip. “Why are you here?”
“I already told you—”
“I mean here, at this party,” he grits out, his mouth near my ear as he uncaps a bottle of something and pours himself a drink.
“Easton brought me.”
“Did he?” he asks casually enough, but I’m not stupid. He’s pissed and he wants me to know about it. “And why would he do that after we told him to leave your ass at home?”
“Maybe he likes me better than you,” I mutter. I know it’s not a good idea to provoke him, but I guess old habits really do die hard. “Katy always did.”
As soon as her name leaves my lips, he makes me regret it. He doesn’t seem to care who might be watching as he grabs a fistful of my hair and drags me outside, throwing me around like a rag doll. My back hits the marble wall I was leaning against before, the cup of water slipping from my hand and soaking us both. He doesn’t seem to care about that either, his huge body crowding mine as he forces me to meet his eyes.
He’s so close.
Too close.
What the fuck is he doing?
“Don’t act surprised, party boy,” he taunts. “You just asked me for this. Plain and fucking simple.”
Maybe he’s right.
I’ve earned his wrath, after all. It’s only fair he gives it to me.
I don’t even try to fight him off when he digs his fingers into my throat, making me choke and cough. He doesn’t let me look away from his eyes, and now that the initial shock of seeing him again has worn off, I…
Fuck, I forgot how much it hurts to look at him.
His thumb grazes the edge of my jaw beneath my ear, and I try not to make a sound as he finds the small scar I got the day he found me sleeping next to Katy’s grave on her birthday a couple years ago. I don’t remember much about that fight—I was too out of it—but I do know that was the last time he saw me in person before today.
“Did I give you this?” he asks, still thumbing that same spot on my jaw.
I nod once, and a hint of a smirk touches his lips.
He likes that.
He’s still holding me in place, but he’s not hurting me anymore. Somehow this is worse, especially when I see the flash of amusement in his eyes, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking right now.
It’s never mattered how hard I try to hide it. He’s always been able to see me for what I am.
Broken. Pathetic. Gay.
My dick is hard for him, and I know he can feel it through our clothes. My breath quickens when he pushes his thigh between my legs, his mouth lowering until it’s just an inch away from mine, giving me a taste of something I’ll never have.
“You want more?” he whispers.
