If There's a Way (Lost Boys #2)

by Jessie Walker

I don’t know when I start smiling too. A small, fragile thing that feels as foreign as the weird flappy feeling in my chest. Like my heart’s a bird, banging its wings against its cage.

“Why?” he says, like it’s absurd. “Fuck, Way, because the idea of losing you, too, terrifies me.” I freeze.

“I feel like I didn’t just lose her,” I tell him. “I lost you too. Difference is, you’ve been here this whole time. And somehow, somehow that’s just as bad, if not worse.” I look away. “I didn’t have a family, Mase. You were my family. You and Izzy.” I bark out a humorless laugh and shake my head. “Fuck, I don’t think I would have made it if I didn’t have you two growing up.”

In my hands, though, his jaw is all man—rough and hard and perfect, it shifts against my palms. A contradiction I didn’t think could break me, but here I am, on the verge of shattering completely. It’s okay, a voice seems to whisper in my ear, soft and unfamiliar. You can break now.

Will’s eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them, and it’s like a dream, for surely it can’t be me that he’s looking back at like that. But he is. He is, and maybe he’ll never look at me like this again. Maybe this is my only chance to show him. See, Will, see. See this heart in my chest. See how it flies for you.

“And I’d rather feel this burden of knowing and loving you than go even a second without you existing somewhere on this planet.”

“So please, just…” Releasing a breath, I open the door with a little shake of my head. “Please just let me be the one to walk away for once. Please let me try to let you go.” And this time… This time, he doesn’t stop me.

Not when there’s all this anxious, furious energy coursing through my veins like gasoline, and his touch is the spark I’ve been waiting for and dreading all night.

Then, and only then, do I finally let my gaze trail down his body. I take in the hard planes of his chest, the pebbled peaks of his nipples. He’s all silvery, moon-touched skin and rippling muscle, and I can’t believe I ever fooled myself into believing I was straight.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, City Boy. Sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

“Fuck, baby, you look so good like this,”

“I knew you would.”

“Open for me,” he instructs.

The first time I gag, he pulls out, only for me to glare up at him. “I can take it,” I tell him roughly, my mouth feeling oddly empty now that it’s no longer filled with a heavy, thick cock.

My lungs burn for air, and I kind of feel like I’m drowning. Like I might pass the fuck out. And fuck if I’m not a little in love with the feeling. This, I think. I could definitely become addicted to this.

A grunt punches out of him, and then he’s lifting off me again. I whimper, hands reaching. “Will.” “Shh, I got you.”

He removes his digit from my ass with a wet squelch that should probably be gross, but I don’t care. I don’t care, because now I’m empty, so very terrifyingly empty, and I need him back. I need him to fill me like I’ve never needed anything in my fucking life.

I might not know love, but I do know my heart beats for him. That much is as clear as day to me. So if keeping this bruised up chunk of muscle beating is all I’ve gotta do to make sure he never lets me hurt him again? Well, that’s the easiest promise I’ll ever make. Simple as that.

“If you crash and break that big, stupid head of yours, I’ll never forgive you,”

His brows knit. “I will never do anything to put you at risk. I thought that’d be clear by now.”

I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not going anywhere. Prove he’s not a whim or a fix or any-fucking-thing else in between. He’s the beat of my fucking heart. And that? That’s everything.

How do I tell him that now that I know what it’s like to wake up in his arms, I don’t know how I’ll ever sleep without him again? How do I tell him I haven’t not beat the sun at welcoming the new day without some kind of substance in years? How do I tell him that his throat is just sitting there, begging for my lips? Like I might die just looking at him right now, because I’m too far away?

His dark blue eyes slide back and forth between mine. “You were saying my name…” A chill skates over my skin as my blood ices over. “...telling me to go. That he’d hurt me too.”

“How can this ever work between us if you don’t let me in?”

“You’ve seen all my ugly parts, Will,” I say thickly. “Let me see yours. And not just when you’re drunk, and you can no longer bottle shit up.” I swallow, then quietly, so quietly, the words hardly carry any volume, “Not when it’s too fucking late.”

“I want to be burdened by you,” I tell him, lifting my shoulders before dropping them. “I want to be the person you burden.”

“You’re not… there yet,” he says slowly. “You’re not ready.” “How do you know?” I croak. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. “How do you know what I can handle, if you won’t even let me try?” “Way—” “You told me I wasn’t a project, but if you don’t meet me halfway here, how am I ever supposed to believe that that’s not all I am to you?”

“That’s my burden, okay?” Exhaustion weighs down every word. “My burden is loving you, but not letting myself have you, because I’m fucking petrified nothing will ever be enough to keep you. And I can’t live with that. I literally cannot live with the idea of losing you, Waylon. So there you fucking have it. I’m not just scared, I’m petrified. Happy?”

Reggie blows out a breath, then⁠— “He married my sister.”

“The monster you see coming is often far less dangerous than the monster you don’t,”

Her pale blue eyes sweep over my face. She lets out a deep sigh. “Oh, my Sunshine Boy. You know I’d follow you anywhere if I could.” My throat feels all tight and achy, and I can’t speak. “But I’ve gotta go meet up with your Grandpa soon,” she goes on gently. “He’s been left alone up there for far too long.”

“But you guys have made the wait to see him again far, far better than I could’ve ever hoped for.”

“Be brave, my Sunshine Boy. Be brave…”

“But you know what? You know what I’ve realized?” I go on, not tearing my gaze off his. “What?” “I like myself a whole lot better when I’m with you.”

“None of that. I need your eyes on me. I need to make sure you’re listening.” His throat dips with a hard swallow.

“You didn’t make anything worse, Will,” I tell him after a long, quiet moment. “You woke me up, that’s all. You brought me back to life.”

“You make me want to hang on and fight. You make me believe I stand a chance. You. No one else. You.” “Way,” he chokes out.

“God, you’ve ruined everything, City Boy. You’ve ruined me.” I rock my head against his, not once taking my tear-filled gaze off his. “Every time I look at you, I’m ruined.”

“Don’t for one second think you make my life worse,” I tell him roughly. “You are the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t trade even a second of it for anyone or anything.”

Inhale. Exhale… Then— “I love you.” He freezes.

“Christ, man. That’s gotta be what this is, right? This feeling… like I’m being ripped apart from the inside out. Like I’m dying. Like I… like I literally can’t breathe from it.” My voice catches, breaking off like glass. “All there’s left in me is… is you, and I don’t even know if that makes sense. But it’s you. It’s always been you.”

His cheeks shift under my hands—hands I forgot I even placed there—and I can feel the way the skin sinks in around his dimples. “Will.” “Say it again,” I croak deeply.

He laughs, and I feel my own lips stretch along with his as he says, “I love you, stupid.” I groan. “Dead. I am dead. So, so dead.”

“Will you fuck me?” I tense. He tenses. Slowly, so slowly, I push him back by the shoulders.

“Hell, I’ve loved you,” I go on deeply, my voice bottoming out with a grave sort of certainty, “in some capacity, for what feels like my entire life. Before I even knew what love was, I’ve been loving you.” I choke out a watery laugh as I stroke his cool cheeks with my thumbs. “Do you really think I could stop, even if I tried? God, I’ve wanted you in my life since the second you first glared at me and gave me some bullshit about how boys can’t cry.”

“And I know that’s a fucking lot—I’m a lot. Especially when it comes to you.” He’s shaking his head. “Will.” “But it is what it is,” I tell him simply. “Take it or leave it, because I refuse to water it down, even for you. I’d do just about anything for you, but don’t ever ask me to love you less.” A beat passes. “And yes, I realize I’m basically quoting Meatloaf, but get over it, ’cause the guy’s a legend and you love me, cheesy lines and all.”

“Trust me,” I whisper over his lips, “there’s no getting over you. I’ve tried. Fuck, have I tried. And it’s impossible.”

“I can’t fight this any more than you can run from it,” he whispers. “And trying to convince myself that we’re better off apart isn’t working for me anymore. Is it working for you?” A shudder racks through my body as I shake my head. No, no it’s not working for me. I wrap my arms around him like he could keep me steady. And he is, isn’t he?

“Still beating, Way?” I whisper, spreading a hand right over the center of his chest. He brings one of his up to my chest, mirroring my position. “I told you,” he says deeply. “So long as I have the will to live…” I swallow hard, fingers digging into his skin, and I murmur against his lips. “There’ll always be a way.” I’ll find it. Always. I’ll always find… Him.

“Maybe that makes me a selfish asshole, but I can’t help but feel like I was always going to end up here. With you. Even… even if he didn’t die… Knowing what I know now—knowing you, and feeling like I feel when I’m with you…” My voice trails off as I shrug again. “I’ve never felt this way before, for anyone. He and I… we wouldn’t have lasted. I see that now.”