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Back Where There's A Will Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. Interlude
  37. Acknowledgements
  38. Content Warning
  39. About the Author

I smile softly. “How ‘bout you let me be the judge of what I deserve or don’t deserve. ‘Kay?”

Sleepy hazel eyes lift up to mine, searching, searching, always searching.

I sigh raggedly as I cup his face. “God, I’ve missed you. Is that crazy?”

Something in his gaze gives way as he shakes his head. Like clouds parting on a summer day, revealing a light so bright, it almost hurts to look. For the first time in years, I feel a part of me settle. Lock into place.

And I know it doesn’t make sense to miss something we never quite had, but fuck, does it feel like we’ve been fighting this for years. Swimming against a current determined to bring us crashing into one another.

I feel it, that bone-deep ache for all the years we’ve lost. There’s no way to avoid the reality of what could have never been, had we not made the choices that led us here.

I feel it all burn and burn and burn until I can hardly breathe. Until I’m choking on it. Until I think I might actually suffocate under the pressure of it all.

But it doesn’t matter. Not the past, or the demons still set on keeping us apart. Not the little voice in my head warning me this can’t possibly last, not like this, not when there’s still so much holding him back. Still so much we need to work through on our own.

Nothing matters but us right now.

This.

Way and Will, Will and Way, and how it should have always been. Two halves of a fucking whole.

He leans up, his mouth finding mine in a feather-light kiss just as his eyes fall shut.

And like a secret meant just for me, he whispers, “I’ve missed you too.”

30

30

Waylon McAllister

It’s still dark when I get to Ivy’s.

It’s Monday, and after tossing and turning all night, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore.

I knew last night would be rough once everything that had happened finally caught up to me. I think Will knew, too, which is probably why he invited me to his place once our time yesterday was up.

After we had managed to pry ourselves off one another and get cleaned up, we made our way out into the kitchen to scrounge up some food.

Will judged me for my eating habits—apparently, I have the palette of a child—and took it upon himself to make me breakfast.

It’s been years since someone’s cooked for me, but I didn’t tell him that.

We spent the rest of the day watching football—or rather, I watched Will turn into a total jock-bro over his birds while I messed around on my guitar, tweaking a song I’ve been working on but couldn’t quite form into anything concrete.