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

by Emma Scott

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final —Rainer Maria Rilke

“There is no such thing as an ordinary life.”

“You look every bit the part.” I’m tired of playing it.

While I was breaking apart. I shoved out of the protective circle of River’s arms and fell back against a bank of storage lockers with a hollow clang. My pulse pounded. 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… Uncertainty flashed over his eyes. “Did I…do something wrong?” I shook my head mutely, the warmth—his warmth—still flowing through my veins. 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.

River pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades. “Christ.” I chuckled and then wanted to cry as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back tight to his chest. I held his arms that held me.

“Then why does it feel like shit?” “That’s a catch-22. The solution to our dilemma is inherent in the problem itself.” “Which is?” “We both want something we can never have,” I said as sleep dragged me down on vodka fumes. “A normal life.”

“Do you go to school with blind people? How can anyone look at this face and not fall in love?” “I don’t make it easy.” “I don’t think that’s true,” she said. “É fácil amar você, meu doce menino. Mas você tem que se deixar ser amado.”

a gentle whisper, like a lullaby. It’s easy to love you, my sweet boy. But you have to let it in.

The intensity that burned between them was singular. Powerful. I had that with River, and I wanted it back.

“And yes, it’s reckless and stupid to try again, but what if we need each other? Maybe how different we are works. Maybe we fill in the missing parts for each other. Ever think of that?”

my heart breaking that he wanted me to have his firsts. Every nerve-ending was raw and awake, wanting his touch that was new to me too. Everything River did and said was a revelation of reverence and consideration.

River infused me in every pore, his kiss leaving me stupid with happy euphoria. Leaving me with a piece of himself so that I wasn’t alone.

“It’s been months, Whitmore. You’ve seen me naked a hundred times. There is no need to keep saying sweet, River-esque things to woo me. You did it. I’ve been wooed.”

“Are you…? Are you okay?” To my shock, Holden was blinking away tears. “Perfect,” he said thickly and sniffed. “It was perfect, you bastard.”

My heart tried to climb out of my throat, the elation and relief expanding until I could hardly breathe. Because I love him. Holy shit, I’m in love with him. The truth was bright and vivid in my heart, no layers of lies or bullshit to cover it up. I was in love with him and for a crazy moment, I had a vision of me going to him, taking him by the hand and leading him to the dance floor. Letting the whole world see and proving to Holden that he deserved to be loved in broad daylight, not in secret rooms or hidden away in his guesthouse.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? But it turns out, I can’t fucking live without you.”

“I love you, Holden. That’s real. It’s the most fucking real thing I’ll ever know.”

Slowly, hesitantly, I reached over and took his hand, warm and strong, and held on. He turned to me, his smile widening, his fingers twining with mine. I’d never seen anyone look at me like he did in that moment, and the sudden warmth that flooded me had nothing to do with the truck’s heater. It flowed between the broken pieces of me, melting them down so maybe they’d have a chance to come back together. Love. This is love. I’m in love with him.

“Jesus, River, you bring me into that room? With your mom? It’s…” “Sacred?” he shot back. “Yeah, it is. That’s the point. I shared some of her last moments with you because I love you, you moron. Don’t you get it?” I love you, too. I love you so much…

I want River here with me, but he can’t be here because of me. I was the problem inherent in the solution and always would be.

And then I knew what he’d planned. To let me have him like this all night. To take and take because he thought he had nothing else to give. “No.” I wrenched my mouth from his. “Holden…” “Yes,” he whispered, his eyes suddenly shining. Pleading. “We have tonight and then you have to let me go.”

How was it possible to feel this broken and yet whole at the same time? To have my heart saturated in grief and love in equal parts. To have my body wracked by the greatest pleasure I’d ever known while pain gripped my soul. Wanting to hold on while saying goodbye. I fucked him because he was leaving. I fucked him to make him stay.

I belong to someone else. I will always belong to him…

The conversion therapy’s cruelest lesson wasn’t taught in the hardest moments—the night marches, the beatings, or even the lake. The cruelty was in the words fed to us, a steady diet of self-hate. A mainline of loathing and unworthiness injected directly into our bloodstream every day. Long after the bruises have faded, the poison lingers, circulating through every part of me and rotting everything I touch.

I shut the journal, my heart breaking all over again and guilt filling in the cracks. Holden was in constant pain and this trunk was filled with his cries for help. Page after page, thousands upon thousands of cries for help. And no one answered. He’s calling to me.

“We’re taking turns being a mess.” I nudged her arm. “You’re taking a really long turn, by the way.”

As much as I…care about him, I can’t magically fix him. It’s not possible. But I can let him know I’m still here.”

“How long will you wait?” “However long it takes.”

I knew exactly what I’d done. And why. Those journals were me. He was so far away, so I hurled myself at him—sending him every word of my heart because I was too chickenshit to go back myself.

“Stop it,” I said. “If you smile like that at me one more time, I’m going to have to sleep on the floor. I won’t be able to keep from kissing you.” “I changed my mind,” River said, his voice gruff. “I’ll kiss you goodnight.”

No one tasted like River—clean and pure and good. Kissing him was more potently intimate than anything I’d done with anyone else over the last year, erasing them all. Leaving me a clean slate. No one had mattered since River and no one ever would.

I’m still here for you. I can’t make you believe me when I say that I love you, but I do. I think you love me too, and when you come back to me, I’ll be waiting. Love, River

emptiness. Holden’s arms around me tightened. He inhaled a breath, then let it out. “I love you.” The wind took the words and ran away with them. I wondered if I’d heard him right. I raised my head. “What…?” “I love you,” Holden said. “I’m in love with you, River.”

“I’m so sorry. But I needed the time to make myself good for you, because you’re so good, River. The best of us. You deserve the best I can give you.” “I don’t give a shit about what I deserve,” I said, roughly gripping him around the collar, my hands cupping his jaw. “I just want you. I love you. I love you so much…”

Holden rolled me to my side, pulled my back to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. “Sleep. You need the rest.” “I need you.” Holden held me tight, his lips on my neck, softly kissing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you. And Holden, that happiness you feel right now? Don’t second-guess it. You deserve it.”

Uncle Reg is shaking his head. “Holden…would it be all right if I gave you a hug?” I can’t move or breathe. I feel my head nod. “Yeah,” I say hoarsely. “That would be all right.”

Our stiffness melts and he holds me close; I smell Old Spice and cigars, aftershave and fabric softener. He smells like a dad and tears threaten.

We don’t make sense—like pieces of a puzzle that come from different boxes. Yet somehow, we fit…and spend most nights proving it.

“I love you, Holden. I love your humor and wit. I love how you’re always the best-dressed person in a room. And the smartest. I love how you’d give away every penny of your wealth to someone you love without hesitation. I love how you give it away to strangers. You’ve been through hell and I love how hard you fight, every day. You’ve lost so much…” I say, and I know he understands I mean what his parents did to him, “…and I don’t have much to give, but I can give you my name. If you’ll have it.”

“The designs on this ring are water.” “I thought it looked like the lines inside a tree.” “That’s because there isn’t an egotistical bone in your body. These are the currents of a river.” God, he’s right. The flowing lines are a current, going around and around, never breaking or going still. “My River,”

“What are you doing?” I ask, my heart jumping in my chest. “Maybe something stupid,” he says, and now he’s naked but for his underwear. “But we got engaged tonight. Because you were brave. I’m feeling a little brave too.”

I kiss Holden Parish, my love for him pulsing through me with fierce pride. Because he made it. He’s here. He’s finally home.