Chapter 46
Yet Jay continued to want him.
He yearned for the sex, but he longed for what came after. For the snuggling in bed and sleeping, and waking up beside him come morning.
Dean had said he would stay the night, so sex was a likely conclusion, a sleepover, even some cuddling, and if it counted as selling his soul, Jay’s signature would have the dark, reddish-brown colour of dried blood. Dean wasn’t the devil despite some of the inventive names April called him. Wasn’t as if he’d asked Jay to do anything he didn’t want to do. If he came to regret inviting Dean into his bed, it was his to accept. If the magical, mystical option of reversing time existed, he still wouldn’t refuse because it meant never having shared an intimate moment with the man. Better the memory. Better to suffer the pain of an inevitable break-up. If he sounded like the saddest sap in the universe, so be it. He’d rather grieve than never have loved Dean. Risk came with any relationship.