39 - Jasper
Jasper
THERE WAS SOMETHING called cute aggression, and I had a raging case of it.
Letting Milo lead me around the mall, watching him desperately try to please me, was more than I could take.
I wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t breathe.
I’d done my best to keep it internalized at the mall with the way Milo seemed to recoil any time I got too close, and now that we were in the car, I was starting to unravel.
I ran my fingers over the pyramid candle a few more times before tucking it back into the gift bag and setting it on the back seat next to his shoe box. Fuck, he was adorable when the mood struck him. If he could relax, I was sure I’d see even more of it from him.
The glimpses I’d gotten so far hadn’t been enough. I wanted all of the soft parts of him I’d been denied, every inch I’d watched him give so freely to others, only for them to mishandle him where I could have done better. I would have done it right, the way he’d always deserved.
It was clear that dinner with Mom was still on his mind.
We’d discussed it several times, and I wanted to tell him the full scope of my plan, but it would only heighten his anxiety.
He was going to spiral either way, so it was better to leave him in the dark—the less his self-sabotaging mind had to work with, the smoother things would go.
For him, this was new. Scary, even. But I’d been fantasizing about this for nearly a decade, imagining all the ways I’d treat him better each time a woman left him in shambles.
If he thought he was too intense, I wasn’t sure what he’d think of all the subtle ways I’d contributed to the end of his relationships just to keep him close, even if I never believed I’d ever have him the way I wanted him.
Everything he hated about himself lived in me, too. I just hid it better.
“You really liked it?” Milo asked self-consciously, fidgeting with his keys instead of putting them in the ignition.
“Yeah,” I assured. “It was pretty cool.”
“Pretty cool,” he mocked, like the descriptor meant I’d secretly hated it because it wasn’t as enthusiastic as his brain would have liked.
“If I didn’t like it, you’d know.”
I leaned over the centre console, one hand settling on his leg as I crowded his space. He jumped slightly, his eyes darting to the driver’s side window, on high alert. I’d restrained myself enough for one day, and the temptation to get him worked up was too great.
“You know,” I started, already grinning. “Cops like to patrol the parkade. Just in case they find any incestuous brothers going at it in their cars. It’s a hot spot, from what I’ve heard.”
“You’re a dick.” He shoved the keys into the ignition and turned the engine over.
I leaned back in my seat. “And you get off on it.”
Milo ignored me and messed around with the car’s touchscreen, flipping through playlists. His phone was tossed haphazardly in one of the cup holders, and a text notification pinged through the stereo via the car’s Bluetooth.
The first line of the message was visible on the display.
Oliver: Hey, I really miss hanging out with you…
Like a parasite that couldn’t let go of its host.
I didn’t react immediately. I waited, watching Milo sit back and grab that god-forsaken phone out of the cup holder and unlock it, swiping to the text. The longer he stared at it, the thinner my patience grew.
“Are you really going to answer that?” I tried to keep my voice calm.
I never considered myself the jealous type. Territorial, maybe.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Just ignore him.”
The repeated sound of typing and erasing over the stereo was my own personal hell.
“I feel bad,” he justified with a pout.
“I don’t.”
“He’s always been there for me.”
“Because he still wants you.” I scowled.
Everyone always wanted him. He had the gravitational pull of the sun and scorched anyone who got too close.
“I’m sure it would be fine,” he drawled. “I’ve told him a dozen times that it’s not happening.”
“I don’t give a shit.” My fingers dug into his thigh. “He doesn’t have the self-respect to take a hint. I’m not like Sofia, Milo. I won’t stand there like a fucking wallflower if he drinks too much at a party and starts crying about how much he wishes he could be with you.”
Milo locked his phone, thumb rubbing over the black screen.
“Are you jealous?”
“No.” I loosened my grip on his thigh and glared at him. “You’re just mine.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes darkened. “What if I still want to be friends with him?”
I was being fucking baited.
My fingers brushed higher, ghosting over the half-hard outline of his cock in his jeans before pulling back completely. My twisted brother was getting a kick out of pushing me to my limit, but I wouldn’t give him what he was looking for.
“By all means,” I challenged, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms, legs spread. “Message him back, if that’s what you want.”
He wouldn’t dare.
“Go on,” I goaded him. “Do it.”
Tongue-tied, Milo dropped his phone back into the cup holder and put both hands on the steering wheel, probably imagining strangling me. I could practically hear steam coming out of his ears, hot and frustrated, and I fucking loved it.
I whistled. “Nothing, huh?”
“I’m gonna shove that pyramid up your ass.” He pressed the gas, but the car was still in park.
“Sure, but you might want to put the car into reverse first.” I grinned.
The trail of curses that left his mouth made my chest vibrate with suppressed laughter, and I had to cover my mouth to keep it contained. I loved everything about the way things were now and, no matter what, I was never going to give it up.