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

by Jessie Walker

Loneliness is freeing.

A cucumber does not one make by giving a fuck, or whatever it is Yoda says.

And not just any someone—Will. Fucking. No. Middle. Name. Foster.

I’m apparently five and never learned how to deal with my feelings

“Tom Petty.”

Remembering. It was all a lie, anyway. Everything we shared.

Oh.. Oh i know what happened

and his big hazel eyes looking into me as if he could see all the broken parts of

he shouts, and it’s like something splinters right down the very core of me.

I came back to remember what it was like to be happy.

“And I’m sorry it was never enough.”

JESUS

I smile a sad, breathy smile against his bared teeth.

This is hot but so fucking sad

If this is hate, baby, I think, licking across his teeth, I don’t know if I’d survive your love.

“Please don’t hate me,” I murmur against his lips. The last thing I recall. And then, against mine, just as sleep drags me under, I feel, “I’m sorry.”

FUCK

His demons got nothing on me.

Get him baby