When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys, #2)

by Emma Scott

But my parents had sent me to a brutal conversion therapy camp in Alaska for six months, which necessitated this vacation at the Sanitarium du lac Léman.

Sanitarium du lac Léman was a mental hospital trying to disguise itself as a bed and breakfast.

Milo Batzirkis, son of wealthy shipping magnates from Buffalo, New York, was two years younger than my seventeen years, but the traumas that had landed him here had beaten him down, making him sound and act like a lost little boy.

Working at our family’s auto body shop instead of pissing my summer away with practice… Building something with my hands, build a life in Santa Cruz… That would make me happy. Football wasn’t even in the top ten, but I was damn good at pretending it was. Judging by Coach’s skeptical glance, my mask was slipping.

But my gaze snagged on the second guy and became stuck there. On him.

He wasn’t stylish in the slightest or even interesting-looking. Merely classically, epically handsome. All-American. Superman in a T-shirt and jeans. His face was a straightforward arrangement of perfect features—thick, dark brows over blue eyes fringed with long lashes. A strong nose over a luscious mouth and a cleft in his chin even more impressive than mine.

“That’s River Whitmore. Senior. Quarterback and captain of the football team.”

River Whitmore,

Whitmore did nothing for me, but River would sound sexy as fuck whispered right before a kiss…

I wasn’t supposed to notice that under all that expensive clothing, his body was built. Not as big as me but lean muscle on a tall frame. I wasn’t supposed to be paying attention to how fucking perfect this guy’s face was, angular and sharp, as if he were sculpted out of ice. Icy hair,

icy attitude but with a fire burning underneath…

Holden Parish.

Holden’s green eyes

I tossed a small, perfectly geometrically folded piece of paper onto River’s desk. “What the hell is this?” he whispered. “Pop quiz,” I said. “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” “Are you fucking serious?” “Relax. It’s my phone number.”

He didn’t say another word but put on his letterman jacket.

“Alcohol keeps me warm because Alaska stole something from me,” I said finally. “It stole something and left me with nightmares—memories—to remind me I’ll never get it back.”

“The problem is that the guy in question is not my type, to put it

mildly. An All-American good boy. Warm, gooey, everyone loves him. He’s the human equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“Is that what they stole from you in Alaska?” “What…?” “You said nothing good could come of you being with that guy. Is that what they taught you? That you’re no good?”

“Jesus Christ!” “Not quite, but I can see how you’d make that mistake.”

“Actually, I take that back. He and I are nothing alike.”

“How did you ...

“I have my ways. Also, your front door was unlocked.”

“Get dressed. I’m all for you wearing nothing but a towel all night, but it’s probably a bit much for our first date.”

“Spare me your stats, Tom Bundy.” “Brady.” “Whatever.

Oh fuck… Lust—pure, unfiltered want—ripped through me like a wildfire.

Everything this bastard said or did, every look that flashed across his eyes, was sexy as hell.

“Yeah, and to try to change it is impossible, so I played along. I dated girls a few times but never had those same reactions so I just…shut down. Refused to question it.” “And now?” “Now I’m questioning everything. All the time. Which is totally your fault.” “I’m totally okay with that,” Holden said. “In every possible way.”

Holden Parish sat beside me on the bed, beautiful and dangerous, his green eyes glittering in the moonlight.

“I hate they did that to you,” I said gruffly, my throat thick. “I’d kill them…anyone who tried to do it again…”

The words tumbled out of my drunken mouth. Holden’s eyes widened, that shocked expression coming over him again. As if no one had defended him before, wanting to protect him instead of hurt him.

my thumb moved over his chin, feeling the curve and cleft, then brushed over his lips wetly. They were soft where his jaw was hard and unyielding, and I wondered what he would taste like.

I let go of my white-knuckled grip on the edge of the pool and slipped my hand into my underwear, stroking myself in conjunction with the sucking pull of Holden’s perfect mouth.

I should’ve been more…not me.”

That was a joke, whispered an insidious voice. He doesn’t care about you. Why would he? Why would anyone?

“Why would anyone?” I whispered, nodding.

Have you always been a writer?” “I’ve always written. Can’t say that makes me a writer.”

It can’t happen again. There it was. The official end to whatever the hell happened on Saturday night. Just another painful moment like every other painful moment in my life; a teetering stack my sanity tap-danced on. One day it would come crashing down.

Some part of him that had been lost was now restored. While I was breaking apart.

I could feel him all over me—in my mouth and lungs and heart—his kiss a resuscitation.

He pulled me out of the lake and breathed life into me…

How could I explain it had never been like that?

That it wasn’t supposed to be like that? No one had ever kissed me like it meant something.

“Have you ever been in love, James?” “Yes, sir.” “What’s it like?” “The sweetest agony. A torture from which you never want to escape.”

“It’s like skiing down a mountain. You’re scared shitless, dodging moguls, the wind whipping through your hair, and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Before you realize it, you’re at the bottom and you don’t remember the fear. Only the exhilaration.”

I kissed him hard, driving him back against the wall of the entry, silencing my thoughts at the same time. River froze, dazed under my onslaught as I pillaged his mouth, taking and tasting with wild, deep sweeps of my tongue. Taking charge of my emotions for this fucking beautiful guy and channeling them into lust. Blindly, River fumbled to put the box on the entry table and then his hands went to my waist, hauling our groins together. My erection sought

his through my pants as our mouths mauled with biting, ferocious kisses.

Finally, River gripped me by the collar, physically prying my mouth from his and holding me inches away, our breaths gasping over wet lips.

“I want to see you tonight,”