21. Jason

CHAPTER 21

JASON

I don't know what he's doing here or how he found me. My phone has been off since I left the house.

I've spent hours doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, imagining all the scenarios of how our lives could have gone differently. To open the door and find Mik standing there short circuited my brain a little, and before I could even begin to recover from that shock, I now have his mouth and body on mine to contend with. Every cell in my body is buzzing.

There isn't room to get a full breath, and I can't get close enough to him. I need to gain some space for clarity, but it feels impossible to stop.

"Wait," I say breathlessly, pulling back.

Mik either doesn't hear me, or he's ignoring me. He's still kissing me, groping me, pressing into me. I lose myself in his touch again, turning us around and grinding him into the door. Mik's hands push under my sleep pants, cupping my bare ass and pulling me harder against him. Fuck. If I don't put a stop to this now, I'll end up buried inside him again.

Pushing myself off him, I take several steps backwards, almost toppling over the bag Mik brought with him. I stare at it with confusion.

Several tense moments pass where we're both panting, trying to come back down to reality. Finally, I get the wherewithal to speak.

"We can't do this anymore. It hurts too much." Selfishly, I'm only talking about myself, but we can't forget who else we're hurting on our path to mutual self-destruction.

"You're not leaving me again," he says firmly. His hazel eyes are dark with anger and pain.

"It would have never worked." The excuse sounds feeble even to my own ears. How long will he resent me for being so stupid? How long will I resent myself?

"You don't know that."

"You're telling me you would have walked away from the mother of your child?"

"Who says I would have walked away from her? We could have raised Jase together without being married. Without living a fucking lie."

"You think my family would have supported us when they found out about the baby?"

"We could have supported each other!" His hands fly up into his hair, pulling at the short, dark strands. "They would have either come around or they wouldn't, but we would have had each other."

"Janel would have never–"

"She knew."

My head cocks back as if I'd been slapped. "What do you mean, she knew? "

As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I'm thinking back to our first conversations after I left. How she barely talked about Mik, and didn't even attempt to invite me to the wedding. When my mom insisted I come back for the ceremony, Janel was the one to tell me not to bother making the trip. She never questioned us about the way we parted, or why we weren't speaking to each other. She never even asked me why I left so suddenly. It's because she knew.

"She knew. Knows– " He stops short in correcting himself. "I mean, I don't think she knows how many lines we crossed. But she knows something is going on between us, now as well as in the past."

"Fuck," I whisper. My mind is reeling, still stuck in my memories of how Janel treated me after I left. I was so relieved not to have to talk about him that I never considered how out of the ordinary it was.

"She kicked me out. I'm still kind of shocked over how it all went down, but she packed me a bag and told me to leave. And she knew I was coming after you."

My head is shaking of its own accord, like my subconscious is rejecting the new reality in front of me. This isn't happening. This can't be real. Is this another daydream? A new scenario that my brain is torturing me with?

"You didn't give me a choice last time," Mik says, voice shaking.

I open my mouth to say—I don't know what I was going to say. But before any words can surface, he holds up a hand to stop me.

"You didn't give me a chance to make a decision. You left when I needed you most, when I was afraid and vulnerable. I should have gone after you, should have tracked you down the moment I noticed you'd left the apartment. I should have fought for you even after you turned up four thousand miles away. I was paralyzed with fear, doubt, confusion. When you disappeared, I thought you didn't want to be with me anymore. I assumed, the way you did, that the baby was a deal breaker. "

He takes a deep breath, eyes rolling to the ceiling to quell the tears I can see filling his eyes. Fuck this being macho shit, my face is soaked with tears that I'm not bothering to hold back anymore.

"I made a mistake. We both did."

The finality of his words is jarring. It's the end of something that has held both of us hostage for over half our lives. Something that has manipulated the trajectory of our lives, tainted every interaction and memory made. The way we parted followed both of us throughout our lives like a dark shadow, never able to forget because we were still so connected to each other. Would it have been easier to forget him if he wasn't part of my family? If I didn't see him every time I looked at my nephew's face, or knew that he was behind them somewhere, lurking out of sight, could I have healed from getting everything I ever wanted all at once and then having it shatter into a million pieces in such a short timeline? It's hard to imagine my life without the ghost of Mik Sanders following me around.

"We fucked it up. But we don't have to fuck it up again."

I realize what he's implying. It's the end of something. But it could be a new beginning.

"How would we make it work?" I live and work in a different country. His family is here. His wife might have kicked him out, but they're still married. His son, who is leaving for college soon, but I know Mik will want to be here for breaks and games.

"Well, for starters, we could… talk." His lips quirk. "If we'd just talked to each other before assuming the worst, we might not have ended up so fucking miserable. Seriously, this is shitty romance novel shit right here, and no one likes a miscommunication trope. It's the second most hated trope in history, right next to pregnancy, which, well… We'd make a really shitty romance novel. So, could we please try to pull our shit together and do better? "

A laugh booms out of me. I don't know what the fuck he's rambling about, but I don't want to talk. I just want to know one thing.

"Do you want this?" I gesture between us, indicating the two of us together.

Mik's lips quirk, but he nods. Good enough.

I make it over to him in two long strides, my hands gripping his face. I press my lips to his, his back hitting the door on impact.

"Say you'll be mine," I say against his lips, between searing kisses. My tongue swipes against his, pulling an affirmative groan from him. "Say it."

"I've always been yours, Jason."

My eyes flutter, and the tension snaps. We come together like hungry beasts, eating each other's mouths and swallowing our groans. We grope and grapple, turning and pushing each other against the wall as we strip each other bare. My knees hit the ground, and I swallow around Mik's cock in one deep bob of my head.

"Ohh, fuck ," he pants. "Jay–"

I suck him hard and sloppy, bobbing up and down on his shaft until he's cursing and digging his fingers into my hair. He can't seem to decide whether he's trying to pull me away, or push me down farther, fucking my throat. I taste his sweet, bitter pre-cum and feel the way his muscles tense. I get him as close to the edge as I dare before releasing him with a wet pop. He whines when I pull off him, but I silence him with a kiss.

"I'm going to take my time with you," I murmur.

Every interaction we've had since I've come back has been hurried and rough. Either we were too overcome with lust and anger, or we were rushing to not get caught. For the first time in eighteen years, I want to make love to someone. To him.

Because he's mine again. And this time, I'm not letting him get away.