Page 129 of Bred
Lucas stalks across the bar and hauls Blaine up to his feet so that they’re face to face. He does it effortlessly, the muscles in his arms bulging. Wherever he’s been this whole time, it definitely had a gym.
Lucas was always muscular, but now it’s like when Chris Evans became Captain America. The black T-shirt he’s wearing pulls tight against, well, everything. His back muscles ripple when he carries Blaine to the exit and practically tosses him out the door.
The metallic click of the lock sliding in place brings me out of my stupor. I meet Lucas’s eyes and freeze. He’s staring at me so intensely his eyes turn glacial. He stares at me like a man starved and I’m his long-awaited meal.
I’m infuriated that it makes my blood heat with desire.
“What are you doing here?” I manage.
His expression is determined as he stalks toward me.
“Don’t,” I say weakly, stumbling backward.
My lower back meets the bar top at the same time he coils a hand in my hair and forces my head back.
I whimper when his lips slant over mine with ferocious need. He kisses me like he’s trying to steal my soul for his own. He tightens his grip on my hair, angling my head so that he has better access to my mouth.
He feels like home.
He tastes like heartbreak and redemption.
He kisses me like he still has the right to.
Like he didn’t leave me without any explanation.
Like he didn’t demolish my heart.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he murmurs against my lips.
I didn’t realize that I was crying until he said something. But I am, I can feel the tears sliding down my cheek.
I come back to my senses with a start. What thehellam I doing?
I shove against his chest, needing space—at least, I try. I might as well be pushing against a dump truck.
“No,” he says huskily, urgently. “Don’t run away from me. From this.”
My palm meets his cheek before I’m aware of what I’m doing.
His head snaps to the side from the force. Slowly, he turns his head and locks his gaze onto mine.
“How dare you,” I whisper, vibrating with anger. “How fuckingdareyou.”
“I know I have a lot to explain––”
“I don’t give a shit,” I snap. “I don’t want to hear whatever bullshit excuse you have. Not anymore. Do you have any idea how long I waited for it, Lucas? Do you have any idea what you leaving did to me? All the sleepless nights I spent wondering where you went, or what I did to deserve to be tossed aside so carelessly?”
“You didn’t do anything. You hear me?” He gives me a little shake, eyes liquid fire. “I didn’t want to leave you. I fuckingloveyou. I thought about you every goddamn day I was away from you.”
“Yeah, right.”
I can’t deal with this. I’m overwhelmed with emotion. For years, I thought about this moment. Of what I would do if I ran into Lucas again, whether I would respond in anger or indifference. No matter what though, I always thought that when I saw him again, I wouldn’t be thrown right back to the night he left. That I wouldn’t love him as much as I did when I was a teenager. I didn’t expect thelonging.
I need to get away from him. The longer I’m stuck in his arms the more likely I’ll do something stupid like give in and forgive him.
I struggle to escape. “Let me go.”
“No,” he says instantly, holding me tighter. “You need to let me explain.”
