Can’t Win Me Back

When Jonah reached the bedside, he leaned in slowly, giving Julien an unobstructed view of his tanned skin, well defined abs, and that devastatingly captivating face.

Reclining against the headboard, Julien found himself lost in Jonah's eyes. His breath hitched, and his mind momentarily blanked as Jonah's mesmerizing gaze locked onto him.

What could he do? His heart still betrayed him, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. He was a fool-a pathetic fool.

Jonah braced his arms on either side of Julien's head, his dark eyes overflowing with a raw, possessive affection. It was as if he sought to consume Julien-just as he had last night.

"Julien, does it still hurt—"

"Fuck you!"

Julien's bloodshot eyes blazed as he swung his hand, landing a sharp slap across Jonah's face.

The illusion of his frailty shattered. A crimson handprint bloomed on Jonah's cheek in a split second, the flesh puffing up visibly.

But the sting barely registered. Not when the ache in Jonah's chest was already unbearable.

"Jonah, right now, not only do I loathe you, but everything about you every single thing you do disgusts me!"

With all his strength, Julien shoved Jonah away. Shaking, he yelled, "What made you think that you could touch me? What made you think you had the fucking right?"

for the first time—like a stray dog caught in the rain,

had at the bar

still has nothing to do with you!" Julien cut him off, his voice sharp

put them on. Then, digging into his wallet, he

resounding smack, he slapped the money against Jonah's

show your face in front of

word, he turned on

broken only by the leaden thud of Jonah's heart, a lonely drumbeat in the

written all over his face. "Mr. Lovelace took off! You fought so hard to

his

an abyss so

said, his voice

up the scattered bills one by one. He clenched them tightly, his fingers pressing into the crumpled notes.

believed the shit he just spewed? Words said out of anger don't mean a

blow up the president's house in a fit of rage. Does that mean I'd actually do it?

a bitter laugh. "I'd give up everything-my pride, my dignity-just to hold onto him. But what would be

on himself, he looked like a discarded tin

he murmured. "I was the one who refused to see it. I was the one who clung to