In Case You Don't Live Forever
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- Votes 10
- Parts 40
MatureComplete Fri, Jan 2, 20264h 47m
After moving back in with his mom and transferring to a new school in his hometown, Lawrence unexpectedly reunites with his childhood best friend, Steven. What begins as a simple reconnection slowly blossoms into a renewed friendship-one that might just turn into something more.
Content Warning: This book includes scenes depicting sexual assault, which may be distressing for some readers.
All Rights Reserved
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"You and your girl need a tab?" he asked, voice smooth like he smoked cigars and drank bourbon for breakfast. I looked over my shoulder at Zuri. "She's not mine. She's my brother's... whatever-they-are right now." "Hm." He didn't push for details. Micah turned his back to grab another bottle and I let myself study him-broad shoulders under a fitted black T-shirt, veins running down his forearms, the soft flex of muscle when he twisted open a cap. Shit. I took a long sip, letting the burn distract me. I'd never been into men. At least, not in a real way. Never touched one, never even entertained the thought long enough to get hard from it. But sitting there, watching him work in silence, watching him exist like he didn't owe the world an explanation... Something stirred. He glanced back at me. "First time here?" he asked, that low rasp curling at the end of his words. "Yeah." "You look it." I arched a brow. "That supposed to mean something?" "It means you're watching me like you're trying to figure something out." He tilted his head. "Like you don't know if you wanna buy me a drink or punch me for making you feel something." My mouth parted-and then shut again. What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? Micah smirked slightly. It wasn't cocky. It wasn't even flirtatious. Just knowing. Confident in a way that made my throat dry up. "I don't swing that way," I muttered, mostly to myself. He leaned forward, bracing a tattooed arm on the bar. "Didn't ask if you did." I stared at him. Heart thudding. He straightened, tossed the towel over his shoulder, and moved on like he hadn't just thrown my entire identity off a cliff. And that's when it started. That quiet unraveling. That slow itch in my chest I couldn't scratch. That one moment I'd think about for weeks - when I'd catch myself glancing at other men and asking what the fuck is happening to me? That night wasn't supposed to change anything. But it did. Because of him. Because of Micah.
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