Page 37 of A Slice of Love

Desire.

I haven’t been a complete saint since my first sexual encounter, but I also haven’t gone all the way with anyone except Jonas. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to—college boys are insanely horny—but it just never felt right with anyone else. I didn’t feel anything close to what I felt with Jonas.

I’m not willing to sacrifice my feelings just to get off.

Julian cracks a smile, looking mighty proud of himself. “Well, you’re not entirely wrong.”

“What!” I croak, whacking his arm in disbelief. “You didn’t tell me that! Who? Which one?”

“Dr. Drake.” Julian licks his lips. “And he’s hung.”

“You little…little…”

“Whore?” His grin widens. “Guilty.” He motions toward the empty side of the booth. “Have a seat, Jonas. We ordered waters for now.”

There’s a second where Jonas hesitates, but he shakes it off, sliding into the booth with grace.

“Thanks for inviting me out. It’s nice to catch up with old friends.”

A snort escapes me, and all eyes are trained on my face.

“Something to say, Frank?” Jonas gets straight to the point.

My palms itch, the urge to reach across the table and wipe the smug smile off his face strong.

But I can’t.

“Well, for starters,Ididn’t invite you. I’d be just fine with never seeing your face again.”Lies.“Also, I have an issue with the word friend. We aren’t friends, Jonas. We never have been.”

I don’t know what I expected to come of the tongue-lashing. I wanted to hit him where it hurts in the best way I could, maybe even make him get angry.

But the last thing I ever expected—and I mean the very last thing—was for Jonas to throw his head back in laugher like what I said is the funniest thing he’s heard in ages.

I also didn’t anticipate being hit so hard with longing.

When I first saw him yesterday, I was angry. Bitter.

Though it didn’t take long for me to feel the hole in my chest—that one I pretend doesn’t exist—widen.

Now, seeing him laugh so freely—even at me—I feel it stretching bigger and bigger.

It makes me even angrier.

How dare he waltz back into my life with his stupid, sexy new beard that looks insanely lickable all trimmed up. That ridiculous ball cap pulled low over his green eyes. His muscles bigger and more defined than I’ve ever seen them before.

How fuckingdarehe make me feel things I haven’t felt in years.

The pain. The anger. The…tingles.

Yesterday, after Julian left, I cried over Jonas Schwartz for the first time in four years.

I don’t even know why I cried. It could have been that I’m still angry, that I’m annoyed by this hold he still has over me.

Or that it’s clear to me I never stopped loving him.

No matter what it was, once the tears began flowing, it was impossible to get them to stop. Sleep eluded me, my mind racing in circles, and I’d be surprised if I managed a whopping three straight hours. My eyes were still swollen from crying and lack of sleep when I walked into work with Julian’s beloved donuts clutched in my hand, chin held high as I tried to pretend everything was okay with me. He didn’t say a word when he spotted me, just accepted his donuts and wrapped his arms around me as if he knew what was going on in my head and heart.

I loved him a little more in that moment.

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