Corey waves a disdainful hand. “He was never into me.”
Yeah, sad but true.
“Ethan’s in the past.” He pushes off the desk and heads toward the back, his long coat flapping behind him. “Adam! How are you today?”
Jason huffs. “Sometimes I wanna grab Corey and shake him. He’s coming on too strong.”
“Like I did with you?”
His cheeks color. “I’m glad you did.”
Yeah, me too. Damn, Jason looks good. Hell, he looks damn edible, his dark hair ruffled, his eyes bright, that faint smile on his mouth.
I glance in the direction Corey went, and see him with Adam who’s leaning back against the wall, arms folded over his chest, blond hair falling in his eyes.
“Ethan told me there’s another guy in the picture. So I’m glad Corey found someone else to obsess over.” I shake my head. “Do you think Adam likes Corey?”
“Oh yeah. You don’t?”
I frown. “If he doesn’t, I’ll kick Corey’s blond ass out.”
Jason laughs—one of my favorite sounds in the world. “Truth is…” His laughter fades. “I don’t really know what Adam wants. I doubt he wants anything more than to find his way in this new world.”
I crouch down beside Jason’s chair and stroke his cheek. “And you? What do you really want in this new world?”
“You.” No hesitation. “And maybe a job?”
“You got it.” I kiss him softly, my chest bursting with affection. “You have me, and you’ll find your way. You’re the strongest person I know, Jase. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
He smiles back at me, his eyes happy and clear. “You changed my life. Don’t you forget that. You make me strong.”
We’re strong together. Love just seems to work that way, and who am I to question it? I wrap my arms around him. He’s the guy I’ve been waiting for all my life, and I’m right where I wanna be.
Epilogue
Jason
Three Months Later
It’
s late when I finally unlock the door and enter the apartment. Our apartment. Our home.
The lights are low inside. I prop my walking stick against the wall, hang the key on the hook and massage my thigh before I limp toward the sofa. The bone is whole again, although I have a metal rod and screws in my leg, to match my screwed-up mind.
The wound has healed as much as possible, though the bone hurts with the cold and burns like coals when I sit on a hard surface. The muscle is still weak and gives me trouble, especially when going up or down steps—like at the call center where I’m currently working, thanks to a recommendation letter from Rafe Vestri, or the therapist I’ve been visiting since I got out of the hospital.
Can’t complain, though. I can walk again, the anti-clotting shots to my belly are a thing of the past, the therapy is helping even if I haven’t remembered anything yet about my past, and life’s getting better every day.
Every day that I realize I’m not going back to Simon, or to the street, and that I get to be with my boyfriend.
Speaking of whom… “Raine?”
“In the kitchen,” he calls out, and I grin, turning my limping steps that way.
Since I moved in for good, Raine decided he needed to learn how to cook properly. After I came out of the hospital, he took care of everything for me. Bathed me, dressed me, helped me move around, on top of driving me to the hospital all the time, on top of working two jobs. And he’s stressed about the food. Seriously.
My boyfriend’s a badass. He’s my hero, and he can’t even see it. He saved me from all the bad things in my life. Plus, he cooks.