Where There's a Will (Lost Boys, #1)

by Jessie Walker

But then, it’s over. He’s squeezing his eyes shut, and time’s speeding up, and I’m no longer the center of his fucking world. And it hurts. It hurts. How does it fucking hurt this bad?

He pulls her in with a deep, guttural groan that shoots straight to my dick, and I suck in a breath. He freezes.

The gaze

he can’t seem to tear away any more than I can, even as his hands slowly fall away from the girl in his arms.

And there’s this boy—this beautiful, raven-haired boy with eyes like a sunlit forest—staring back at me as if he’s seconds from diving into the water to reach me. As if he’s been waiting and waiting and waiting for a break in the waves.

And this moment—this chance—it’s nothing but a wish upon the stars for something that will never be. Not when that boy who is now nearly a man is staring back at me as if it would make no difference if I drowned and lost myself to the sea.

With my head held high, and a smile mashing my teeth, I can almost pretend they don’t shred me to pieces. “Who was that?” “Nobody.”

“WE ARE THE LOST BOYS!” This. Right here. This is all I need. “THANK YOU! AND HAVE A GREAT FUCKING NIGHT!”

My eyes widen when she makes her way to my side. “Um.” I glance at Will. His eyes are doing this weird twinkling thing, and I suddenly feel like I’m the butt of some joke.

“No,” I say stiffly. Stupidly. I wave a hand at the girl next to me and gently pry her off me as I stand. “It was just a one-time thing, dude. She’s all yours.”

“I can make an exception. Can’t you?” I blink. Then I point at Will. “What about him?” Why the hell does my voice sound like that? Her face scrunches up in a humored sort of bafflement. “He’s gay.” What?

I grin. ”What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as⁠—” “Seriously?” I wink. “You’re the one who called out to me from your balcony, Juliet.”

“You know, I imagined a lot of ways this could go. Seeing you again. Can’t say I pictured this.” “Did you picture my fist breaking your teeth?” he says through his teeth. “’Cause that’s looking more and more likely by the second.” My mouth widens into a grin. “Are you always this violent when you flirt?”

I raise my hands. “Easy, tiger.” I trail my eyes over the rust-flaked contraption. “You don’t need to literally throw yourself at me. I’m more than willing.” He blinks, and for a hot second, I wonder if he’s actually considering it. Throwing himself, that is. Literally. Pressing until the railing gives beneath his weight. Crushing me all in the name of shutting me up.

Fuck, he really is beautiful.

“The sun will always rise again.” I shrug. “You just need to make it through the night. Take it day by day—moment by moment if you need to—until you reach the other side. Nothing lasts forever.”

Nothing. It would literally take nothing at all for me to swoop forward and crush his mouth with mine. Claim him, the first and only boy I’ve ever kissed. The only one I ever wanted to kiss.