Page 58 of Puck Lust

But carrying around the guilt of what I did to get out haunts me on a daily basis.

I hate myself for it, for giving away the tiny bit of control I thought I had over my future.

It will forever hang over my head, with the knowledge that I’ll never be good enough.

I squeeze my eyes shut, tears stinging the back of my eyelids.

Fuck him. Fuck them both.

Fuck them all.

“Jack.”

My head snaps up and I blink fast as I look up.

Carter stands over me, light from the wall sconce creating a halo around his head.

For a second, it feels like I’m dead and he’s the angel sent to pull me out of the nightmare I just tumbled back into.

He lowers himself to his ankles. “Tate said he saw you come out here, and when you didn’t come back inside, I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He pauses. “But you’re not. What happened?”

I just shake my head because how the hell could I make him understand? Especially him?

The words I spewed at him the night we kissed make me cringe even years later. I was angry and sad and headed straight into a downward spiral. I wanted to take him down, too. So I fired out a whole lot of bullshit because Ineeded someone else to hate themselves the way I did. And I pushed away the only person who really gave a damn about me, the only one who meant anything.

“I didn’t mean the things I said to you that night at camp,” I mumble, hanging my head. “You’re so fucking talented. I shouldn’t have made you question yourself. I knew you were insecure and I played on it because of what I did and how I felt when you rejected me. I wanted to hurt you, too. It was s fucking selfish.”

His eyebrows knit together, his gaze brimming with pity and concern, and God, I hate everything I see swimming in the depths of those clear blue pools. I don’t want his sympathy. And I sure as hell don’t want to need it. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s over. In the past.”

“No,” I mutter. “It’s not. And it’s not okay that I hurt you the other night. That I toyed with you and then left like that. It was wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Jack, I don’t know what happened to you…tonight, before tonight…but I’m not going to leave you.” He places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You’re not alone. You…you never had to be.”

I swallow hard past the lump lodged in the back of my throat, slowly pulling myself to my feet. Carter rises as well, those penetrating eyes still laser-focused on my face, like he’s trying desperately to see what lies beyond my mask.

He doesn’t know how close it is to crumbling and revealing everything.

“Tell me what you need,” he says in a low voice, leaning so close his lips practically touch mine.

I breathe in the spicy scent of his cologne. It catches in my nose and infuses me with hunger.

I could lose myself in him, just like I did the other night. I could pull him close, drink him in, let his warmth blanket me in the comfort and security I haven’t had since…

Ever.

“You, Carter,” I finally choke out. “I need you. Take me home. Make me forget.”

TWENTY

carter

A crazy surgeof need overtakes all rational thought, and for a few heated seconds, all I can think about is peeling Jack out of his suit and using my tongue to trace every cut of muscle and swirl of ink covering his chest. I don’t know what the hell has come over me, or how I’ve become this needy, sex-crazed guy when a few weeks ago, I was just entertaining weird thoughts of what I thought was extreme hero worship.

There are no doubts in my mind anymore about Jack and the way I feel.

I may have been able to lie to myself, could have convinced myself that the first time was just an experiment. But there’s no way I can deny the truth to myself anymore.

I want him. Badly. Like I’ve never wanted anyone.

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