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“When it concerns you, it’s never a waste of my time,” he replied.
Horror swept the disbelief away, like a rolling tide. The pained expression etched on his striking face reached down into me, sinking deep with razor-sharp claws, and tore me apart. The look on his face, it . . . it destroyed me in a way nothing else could since that night on Halloween.
“Fuck, Avery. You think I don’t want you?” His voice came out low, almost a growl. “There’s not a single part of you that I don’t want, you understand? I want to be on you and inside of you. I want you against the wall, on the couch, in your bed, in my bed, and every fucking place I can possibly think of, and trust me, I have a vast imagination when it comes to these kinds of things. Don’t ever doubt that I want you. That is not what this is about.”
“I’m serious about you, Avery. If you want me for real, you have me.”
cried because, in the end, he still loved me. Most of all, I cried for everything that I had lost and for everything I knew I could now gain.
