Page 25 of Don't Say You're Sorry

“Nate said I could.”

His hand pauses as his brows pull in, the smirk still pulling at his mouth. “Nate did?”

“Xavi’s making him be nice to me.”

He chuckles. Removing his hands from my throat and cock, he keeps his lower half pressed against mine, still pinning me to the wall, his finger tracing the tattoo on my chest. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m here.”

“For me.”

“For you,” I reiterate.

“Why?” He cocks his head. “Are you suddenly ready to ruin your mother’s life for me?”

I huff out a shaky breath. “No, I…I know it’ll take some time, but maybe we could just…go back…to the way it was before. I want to be brothers again. Best friends. Or just two people who live in the same house and talk and hang out sometimes,” I add in a rush. “I’ll take whatever I can get. I just want to be in your life again, E. I want my person back.”

He stares at me for so long, completely silent, that I’m almost sure he’s not going to say anything at all. But then he lets out a laugh, and I get it. I’m aware how naive and stupid I must look right now. Talking about beingbrothersandbest friendswhen our hips are pressed together and his hands are on my body, his mouth hovering over mine.

“Do you know what I would have given for you to say all that three and a half years ago?” he asks. “I would have done anything to keep you around.Anything. I would have pretended not to want you if it kept you by my side. I begged you to let me do that. You wouldn’t let me. You left me and never talked to me again.” He shakes his head. “There’s no fixing that, Adam. There’s nogoing back.”

“Please,” I beg, much like he did the day I left, covering his hand on my chest with mine. “Let me try. Let me do what I should have done back then.”

Again, he stares at me, before dropping his gaze to our hands. “Nothing good will come from this.” It’s not a warning. It’s not ano. It’s just a fact, one I’ve been pretending to ignore up until now because he’s right. I don’t know if I can be in his life without wanting something more—needingsomething more—but I want to try.

“I want to risk it.”

His gaze flicks back up to mine. “I’m not the one who’s gonna get hurt this time.”That’sa warning. It’s as if he’s giving me one last chance to back out before it’s too late.

I don’t back out. I lift my chin, my breath ghosting over his lips as I tighten my grip on his hand, locking our fingers together. “Are you gonna hurt me, sunshine?”

Not that I’d blame him if he did, but I don’t think he’s capable of doing something so cruel. I could be wrong though. Three and a half years is a long time. He could be an entirely different person than the one I knew back then.

That goddamn smirk returns as he bumps my chin with his knuckle and walks away, pausing just as he gets to the back doors. “Are you coming?”

“I need a minute,” I say, not so subtly adjusting my dick in my shorts. “Or five.”

He laughs as he adjusts his own. He steps outside to join his friends, then stops again, hesitating before he says, “You know, Nate hasn’t used that barbecue since the day Frankie moved in.” I’m unsure why he’s telling me this, until he adds, “Welcome to the family, little brother.”

CHAPTER 9

EASTON

Easton

I miss you.

Adam looks tired. Not surprising, considering he must have flown back to London, packed up all his stuff, and then flown right back here again, all within the space of three days. He doesn’t look as if he’s slept at all. The jet lag must be killing him.

His eyelids droop as he leans back on one of the sun loungers opposite me. He put his shirt back on after I left him standing in the kitchen with a hard dick. When he peeked at me as he covered his shorts with the hem, I hit him with a look that said,That’ll teach you.

I can tell his social battery is running low, but he’s still managing to talk to Xavi about the art he commissions for romance authors. Xavi sounds genuinely interested in what he’s saying, even gets a few book recommendations while he’s at it, and Adam’s feeding off his excitement. They seem to bebecoming fast friends—something that pisses me off more than it should.

Does Adam have friends in London? Real friends who love him the way mine love me? I hope not. The thought of him hanging out with a bunch of people I don’t know, having fun without me,forgetting about me, even just for a little while—it makes me want to hurt him. Not just physically but mentally. Emotionally. It makes me want to hurt him like he hurt me.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Nate whispers, his gaze flicking up to the boy I’m watching. “Trust me. It’s not gonna go the way you think it will.”

My lip twitches. “I’m not you. I got this.”

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