Page 52

Boyfriend. That’s…not right. The word is weak, utter bullshit. We’re ingrained in each other, despite my best efforts and the lies I tell myself. That’s why it hurts so much, and perhaps he’s feeling it too, with Ricky, although it’s unwarranted.
“Ricky has a partner, and we’re only friends. I understand what you’re going through better than anyone.” I stare pointedly into his troubled eyes. “When you disappear, when you hide our relationship?—”
“That was before?—”
“When you relapse, when you’re with other women, it kills a part of me, a part ofuswe can’t get back.”
“I wasn’t. With. Other. Women.” Teeth clenched, he swallows hard, his throat clicking. “Stop saying that.” His voice vibrates with raw emotion. “You wouldn’t if you knew what I’ve been through.” His eyes well up, and his jaw ticks. “Sex is warped inside my head.” He taps a finger against his temple. “Except with you. I’m not attracted to random people, no matter how drunk or high I am. I don’t evenlikeanyone other than you. How could I possiblytouchsomeone else?”
Dread washes over me, as if icy flames scorch my skin. A bone-chilling horror coils tight in my stomach, leaving me jittery.
Only weeks ago, he told me he didn’t ghost me, that he overdosed after hurting me. It took months and another argument for him to admit that.
His mother’s death. Kyle’s torment. I realize how little I know of his struggles, of what’s buried underneath the anger and addiction.
One thing’s for sure: he’s trapped inside his head.
I cup his face with trembling hands and run my thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’re okay.We’reokay.” A painful tightness grips my throat, my voice barely a rasp. “Even when I’m too afraid to say it…I love you. I willalwayslove you. Ricky has a partner. He’s not interested in me. No one is taking me from you—you’rein control of losing me.”
His defenses crumble, and his shoulders slump. He shuts his eyes and presses his forehead to mine. “I’m depressed. My thoughts are racing. I got a taste of you again, and I don’t want to go back to starving. I don’t want to lose the only thing I have.”
His words hang heavy in the air, but they’re not true. Ethan cares about him, possibly as much as he does me.
“We can work through this, but you can’t yell or intimidate me. Our life will be more complicated with a baby. Think about it, Jax. Think about a child peering up at you.”
A tear rolls down his cheek, and I hold on to the hope we’ve reached a place that’ll allow us to heal, that’ll allowhimto heal, and this night won’t lead to self-destruction.
27
JACKSON
Tears sting my eyes.Fucking depression.
Aurora’s fingernails glide over my scalp. “You’re not on the ice, burning energy and relieving tension. You don’t do well cooped up. You need sunshine and the outdoors.”
If she’s trying to convince me to return to LA without her, it’s not happening. “I needyou.”
“You have me. No one can replace you, Jackson O’Reilly.”
Her voice is playful, her touch soothing. She’s comforting me, as always, not getting rid of me, and the chaos in my brain quiets a bit more.
“Your intoxicating scent, that crooked smile, this mouth…” She tilts her head and places her lips on mine.
A flutter stirs in my stomach, and a chill runs down my spine. I let out a low groan, tangle my fingers in her silky hair, and deepen the kiss. She moans softly, and the heat between us intensifies. I clasp her thigh, bringing her closer.
“How about this?” She glides her tongue over my bottom lip. “How about you feed me your cock, then dinner?”
I pull back and stare at her in disbelief, searching her devilish eyes. “You think a blow job will make me feel better?”
She bites her lips to hide her mischievous grin, and just like that, the tension eases. We fall into place, Aurora and Jackson.
I nod, feigning contemplation. “You’d be right.” I smile, dip my head, and place a kiss under her earlobe. “But I want more than you on your knees for me.”
She wraps her legs around my waist and presses me tight to her center, only the thin material of her leggings and my shorts between us.
Our mouths meet in an urgent entanglement. Hips rock, craving friction, and she whimpers. God, I missed that sound.
I grind against her. “I want to bury myself inside you all fucking night.” I need her—need that deep connection we have.