Still Beating (Lost Boys, #2.6)

by Jessie Walker

Thousands of miles away from each other, with nothing but a phone line to tether us.

I’m not fine, Way. I’m not fucking fine, and neither are you, and this, right now, saying goodbye to you, knowing just how not fine you are, but not being able to see you, kiss you, touch you, and breathe you in… It’s straight up agony.

I’m a fucking trauma magnet, okay? Bad juju everywhere.

“Because sometimes, the only thing that keeps us holding on, is holding on for someone else.”

“It’s better to need someone than to have no one to need,” Shawn says, his fierce gaze holding mine. “Trust me.”

“God, I could eat you,” I say into a groan as I drop my face to his shoulder. I open my mouth, nibbling at his flesh. He tastes like sweat and rain water, dirty but mine.

It’s insane. Loving him this easily… Like every piece of me was made for every piece of him.

Unhealthy, my ass. This love is just straight up primal. Our need for each other ingrained in us as deeply as our need for air. Inescapable. Losing him would literally kill me, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about that.

“One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that you matter.” He stills. “Not just to me, but especially to me.” I swallow tightly. “That you don’t just…” —I wet my lips, searching his bright eyes— “disappear when no one’s looking.”

“I might love you harder when you’re at your worst, but that’s only because you need it harder then. But my love for you when you’re at your best?” I release a breath, smiling. “It’s unmatched. It consumes me.”

“One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that I love you even more when I’m happy.”

“That for as much as I need you when shit’s all dark and fucked up in my head, I love you just as much, if not more so, when I’m clear-headed. When I feel strong and capable, and not strangled by the fear that I’m going to lose you, or by the voices that try to convince me you deserve better.” “Way…” He inhales deeply, bringing us impossibly closer. “My love for you when I’m sad and scared is very selfish. Even a little ugly. But when I’m happy, it’s pure. Easy and simple as breathing.”

All I can do is hope that once it settles, enough embers will have reached those dark, cold, deserted places where loneliness lives and fear thrives.