Page 78 of Loverboy

“So what, you can complain, but I can’t?” He pinched my cheek softly, and instead of continuing the back-and-forth teasing, I pressed into his hand.

“Exactly.” I grinned.

“Have you been good?”

“Mostly,” I said casually, pulling away and flicking some ashes over the railing.

“No messaging your ex?”

“Nope.”

“No dating apps?”

“Nope.”

Jasper hummed in approval, his hand dropping down to my shoulder. He stroked my upper arm soothingly, his thumb rubbing into my sweater and over scars that hid beneath. He didn’t say it, but I knew he wanted to ask if I’d hurt myself at all lately. I hadn’t.

Things were really good right now. The apartment had finally stopped filling me with dread. After a few shopping trips and rounds of visits to Mom’s, my barren space had started to feel like home. The fridge wasn’t empty like it used to be, and Jasper’s things filled the space. The shelves were lined with books, nerdy little trinkets, and posters that made it home.

He made it home.

Our routine was the same, but also different. Our mornings still consisted of the trademark brewing of coffee and comfortable silence, only now it was filled with nameless intimacy. Jasper’s gaze burned a little hotter, his touches lasted longer, and any time he was close, my pulse jumped.

The longer I thought about putting my feelings into words, the more fears came up. I’d had time over the last few days to really wonder what it would be like to be with my brother outside of these moments that felt like a big secret I couldn’t share.

How would the people around us react? Would they congratulate us, or would their perception of us as brothers make it seem too dirty and wrong? If he made me feel safe and loved, I knew it shouldn’t matter. But the shame weighed me down all the same.

And then there was the bigger problem. Me. I ruined every relationship one way or another, and the thought of destroying the only good thing I had was unbearable. All it took was one bad day, one manic episode, and I’d find a way to wreck it before I had a chance to get hurt.

Familiar hands crept around my sides, gripping my hips. My breath caught, and I closed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t like it?” Jasper’s breath was hot against my ear.

Frustration coiled in my gut. “I don’t know what it is. You haven’t told me.”

Fuck.

I was already ruining it, the passenger in a car with no driver, headed for total wreckage. Why was I looking for a fight when he’d done nothing but give me what I wanted and needed at every turn?

Jasper walked me backwards until my back was against the balcony door. Behind his glasses, his brown eyes were dark and swimming with secrets.

“You told me to focus on you.” His voice was low, intimate.

“So you’re just doing this because I asked you to?” I accused, regretting the words as they fell from my mouth. Maybe that’s all these moments were, just a means to keep me from throwing myself off the edge. He was trying to keep me alive, not falling in love with me.

I was the one falling in love with him. Or more accurately, I’d always been in love with him. It was something I knew but never acknowledged. As long as I kept him at a safe distance, there was no way he would leave me. If I kept that love locked up tight in a box labelled brother, I could fill in the rest with whoever gave me the most attention.

I wouldn’t be dirty. I wouldn’t be sick.

“No,” he said sharply. “I’m doing it because I want to.”

Panic crept up my throat, and my lower lip began to wobble. It couldn’t be so simple.

“Why?” I couldn’t resist the urge to tear it all down. If I just kept on pulling things apart, I’d eventually find a reason why he shouldn’t want this.

“Because I’d die for you,” he said it so simply. “I’d die with you if you asked. I’d dig a grave deep enough for the two of us and climb inside, if that meant always being with you.”

It was deeper than a simple I love you, and it terrified me so much that all I could do was turn it into a fucking joke.