Page 20 of Lovesick Titan

Cho raised an eyebrow as their pulses slowed, legs still framing Danny despite the mess between them. “That I’m old and of questionable morals?”

“No,” Danny snorted. “That you know who you are and what you want. I love that about you. Your confidence. Your intelligence.” He trailed his hand down beneath Cho’s leg again. “I love your thighs. Your ass.” Back up beneath his knee, to his hip. “Your skin. Yourscars.” And dove for a kiss.

“I loveyou, Danny.”

Then stopped. “…what?”

Danny pulled up, expression blank and disbelieving as he took Cho in, this flushed and beautiful and impossible man beneath him who he’d thought he hated so much he wanted to ruin him forever. Now those hypnotic blue eyes looked at him without any guile or lies. Cho’s forehead smoothed in resignation of what he’d said, what he meant, looking ten years younger as he held Danny’s gaze and said it again.

“I love you.”

Chapter4

Mal felt so exposed, like a raw nerve. He’d never told anyone he’d been with that he loved them, was never with anyone long enoughtolove them. But Danny was everything Mal wasn’t; he’d need to hear it. He deserved to hear it. The words had spilled from Mal’s lips so easily after Danny counted off his supposed virtues, both metaphorical and physical.

“I love you, Danny.”

He didn’t expect to hear the same words back, so he didn’t wait for Danny to say anything. He leaned up to capture a kiss.

Danny pulled out of reach. He’d drained of all color, eyes wide and shimmering as he shook his head. “I…I can’t.”

“What?” Mal reached for his face.

“Ican’t.” Pulling back completely, Danny scrambled off the bed like he couldn’t get away fast enough. “I have to go.”

“Go?” The dull edge of rejection felt as if Dunkirk’s knife had lodged itself in Mal’s chest. He pushed up onto his arms, twisting his mouth into a strained smirk. “Suddenly in such a hurry, Sparky?”

Danny dressed in what seemed like seconds, unable to look Mal in the eyes. He backed up toward the stairs and only for a brief moment before he disappeared did his eyes meet Mal’s. “I’m sorry,” he said, and then he was gone.

He left. Mal said ‘I love you’. And Dannyleft.

Still stained with his own release on his stomach, naked on his bed, if ever Mal had felt used and thrown away, this moment trumped the rest. He’d known what a risk he was taking, but he’d thought…he’d justthought…

He stumbled out of bed and raced for the bathroom, gripping the cool porcelain of the sink when he reached it. He felt dizzy, nauseous. He needed to get clean. Needed to get out of the house. Needed to…something. He couldn’t just stand there. He’d risked everything offering himself to Danny. And lost.

Mal’s fingers remained knuckle-white on the sides of the sink. When he’d finally calmed enough to look up, he saw in the mirror how quickly the bruise around his eye was forming. Saw the bandage over his arm that Danny had so carefully applied. What had he been thinking, imagining that longing and kindness meant Danny could love him?

After rinsing off in the shower in a numb daze, Mal dressed in fresh clothes. Every creak and shift of his apartment when he headed down the stairs made him equally anticipate another attack and hope that Danny had returned, but neither of those things happened.

He contemplated putting the unfinished components of dinner in the fridge but eventually just threw it in the trash. Retrieving his trench coat from the closet, he left his apartment.

He didn’t want to walk. He didn’t want to see anyone. But he couldn’t stay in his home. He needed neutral ground, somewhere he could go to think without distraction—a safe house. Picking the nearest one, the closest one he could walk to, he barreled down the sidewalk, causing the few pedestrians he passed to make way or cross to the other side of the street.

Mal reached the safe house with a flurry of the door opening and snapping shut. He hadn’t realized how heavily he was breathing, how fast he must have been walking, until he stopped. With the door closed behind him blocking out all sound from outside, the only noise was him gasping for air—which sounded too much like crying.

He slammed his fist into the wall. Malcolm Cho didnotcry. Henevercried. Not over somebody else. He’d hardened his heart a long time ago. He was strong. Unmoving.Cold. Nothing could touch him anymore.Nothing could touch him.

Until a boy with soulful eyes and a sweet, teasing smile crossed his path.

Next to where he’d punched the wall was a mirror set at just the right height for Mal to look himself in the eyes. Lucy had wanted oneby all the doors, not merely so she could give herself a final once over before leaving any safe houses, but so they could see if anyone was behind them.

Now the mirror mocked Mal. Because of Ludgate. Because of his battered reflection. Because what he saw there was something Danny had looked at and decided so fiercely he didn’t want that he’d ran.

The howl that tore from Mal startled him as he reared back with his fist and punched the glass. Only as the pieces cracked and shattered did he notice the reflection of someone standing behind him.

“What the hell are you doin’?!”

Mal whipped around, bloody hand shooting out in front of him, coated in ice in seconds…only to go limp as he saw that it was Dom.

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