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?"

locking up. He looked lost for the first time—like a stray dog caught in

drink you had at the bar last night

to do with you!" Julien cut him off, his voice sharp enough to wound. "Who the hell

put them on. Then, digging into

a resounding smack, he slapped the money against Jonah's bare

for last night. And don't ever show your face in

turned on his heel and stormed

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

so hard to find

remained motionless, his

spiral into an abyss so deep that it nearly swallowed him whole. He refused to let that

hates me," Jonah said, his

picking up the scattered bills one by one. He clenched them tightly, his fingers

he just spewed? Words

the president's house in a fit of rage. Does that mean

everything-my pride, my dignity-just to hold onto him. But

like a discarded

over a long time ago," he murmured. "I was the one who refused to see it. I was the one who clung to a fantasy