When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys #2) - Emma Scott Page 0,124

immediately, as if he’d been waiting for it too. The book tumbled from his hand and he grunted, gripping me by the lapels of my jacket and pressing me against the bookshelf hard enough to make it shiver. His mouth invaded mine, another resuscitation after drowning in a lake of alcohol for a year.

My hands went everywhere, over his broad back, into his hair, greedy to touch him. I felt the heavy hardness of an erection grow in his jeans and press against my own.

A store clerk cleared his throat delicately in passing, and River wrenched himself from me.

“Fuck,” he gasped breathlessly, his mouth reddened, his hair askew. His gaze bore into me, frustrated and heated at the same time. Then he bent to retrieve the book off the floor, slammed it on the little table, and stormed toward the exit.

I smoothed my rumpled clothes and followed him through a side door that led to a cobble-stoned street.

“I didn’t want to do that,” he said. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Your dick told me otherwise,” I said, then flinched at his murderous gaze. “Sorry. Can’t help myself.”

“Neither can I, that’s the problem. I can’t let you go. And I don’t want to. But Christ…” He became still, his eyes hard. “I can’t kiss you when you fucked someone else just last night.”

My arms dropped, and shame rushed through me like a wildfire. The sun was starting to sink, casting shadows over the cobblestone streets.

“Who is he?” River asked, his voice low.

“You really want to talk about him?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“He’s no one. A good guy,” I amended. “But he won’t last. Like the others.”

“Others.”

“Yes, others. Lots of others. Because that’s what I do.”

My words struck River hard and I hated myself more.

He stared at me, then barked a short laugh. “God, I’m a fucking idiot. I thought maybe you needed me. That it meant something that you sent me your books. But no, nothing’s changed. Except you’re over here living it up while I’ve been a goddamn monk, jerking off to you every night.”

I sucked in a breath, the truth hitting me as hard as mine had hit him. “No one?” I gritted my teeth. “I never asked you not to see anyone. I’ll never—”

“You’ve never asked me for anything, and you never will. Yeah, I remember your little mantra.”

I stared back, desperate to harden myself against him. “What do you want? Why are you here? To bring me back with you?”

“Why not? What are you doing here, except drinking yourself stupid and fucking everything that moves?”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

River scrubbed his face. “Christ…Holden.”

“What am I supposed to do, River?” I shouted. “Go back with you and do what? I’ll be the same mess there I am here.”

“You can get help. You can try again.”

“Yeah and while I’m stumbling around, flailing and falling down, what are you doing? You’re picking me up while taking care of your sister and dad and keeping the shop running at the same time. Like fucking Atlas, carrying all of us on your back. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re doing the same old shit too. Boxing up your feelings and stowing them for later. When has that ever worked out for you?”

“At least I’m doing something. At least I’m trying.”

He has you there, said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Beatriz. Or Ms. Watkins with a Portuguese accent.

We stared each other down for a few more moments, and then I sank onto a wrought iron bench against the side of the bookstore, feeling tired down to my bones. Tired of the old pain that wouldn’t leave me alone. Tired of missing him.

River stood with his hands on his hips, his gaze on the ground. “Do you love him?”

“Of course not. He’s a distraction. They all are.”

He’s not you.

River nodded and sat down on the bench beside me. “What’s happening tonight?”

“Another party.”

“On your dime?”

“Of course.”

“Cancel it. Text your so-called friends and tell them you’re not coming.”

“What am I doing?”

“You look tired, Holden. Let’s get something to eat and go back to my hotel.”

I mustered an arched brow and a sly smile for old time’s sake. “That sounds promising.”

“We’re not sleeping together. You need to get actual sleep.” River sighed. “I do too.”

I nodded and then tilted into him, rested my head on his shoulder. After a moment, River moved to put his arm around me. I could have slept right there, listening to the beat of his heart and nothing else. But night