i'm writing a sequel — HAPPY PRIDE! 🥰🌈💖

“My dad didn’t know much English, so we pretty much only spoke Spanish at home.” He didn’t look at Yadriel but toyed with Purrcaso’s tail. “It’s not that I don’t like speaking Spanish, I mean, it’s 𝘮𝘦, you know? I think in it, I dream in it, but…”

“Uh, former gang member?” Julian’s laugh was sharp. “No.” He traced shapes onto the windowpane with his finger. Casually, he added, “But Luca was.” It was Yadriel’s turn to balk. “What? 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢?”

He squinted up at Julian. “And what’s my 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬?” Julian tipped his head side to side. “Gay goth witch?” Yadriel grabbed a stack of jack-o’-lantern napkins and threw them at Julian’s head.

Yadriel was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. To his foolhardy charm and striking features. Julian was achingly beautiful, but in the way a thunderstorm was beautiful—wild, rough, electric.

Julian’s heart thrashed wildly in his chest, threatening to break his ribs. He didn’t want them to take Yadriel away from him. What if something happened and Julian never got to see him again?

“Who—?” “I don’t know,” Miguel said, watching Julian anxiously from over Enrique’s shoulder. To Julian, he asked, “Is Yadriel your friend?” The word burned. “¡𝘔𝘪 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘰!” he snapped viciously.

“You’re so stupid!” Julian repeated. “You—!” “Shut up—” Yadriel threw himself against Julian and wrapped his arms around his neck and kissing him fervently.

Yadriel’s soul ached. He leaned closer, his hands reaching out, fingers wanting to knot into Julian’s jacket and pull him closer.

A soft caress ghosted over his lips, and Yadriel let himself drown in it. It was unexpectedly gentle and sweetly slow. His skin flushed, hot and wanting, and Julian’s cool touch sent shivers rolling through him. Yadriel’s soul ached.

Yadriel was antisocial out of self-preservation. “I’m going to stick out like an awkward, sore thumb,” he added. “Then it’s a good thing it’s Halloween, ain’t it? We’ll get you a disguise!” Julian told him, taking off down the street.

Yadriel was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. To his foolhardy charm and striking features. Julian was achingly beautiful, but in the way a thunderstorm was beautiful—wild, rough, electric.

A soft caress ghosted over his lips, and Yadriel let himself drown in it. It was unexpectedly gentle and sweetly slow. His skin flushed, hot and wanting, and Julian’s cool touch sent shivers rolling through him. Yadriel’s soul ached.

Yadriel’s soul ached. He leaned closer, his hands reaching out, fingers wanting to knot into Julian’s jacket and pull him closer. But they grasped at air. There was nothing to hold on to.

A soft caress ghosted over his lips, and Yadriel let himself drown in it. It was unexpectedly gentle and sweetly slow. His skin flushed, hot and wanting, and Julian’s cool touch sent shivers rolling through him. Yadriel’s soul ached.

The aching in Yadriel threatened to swallow him whole. Julian was still there, but Yadriel’s body was already mourning the loss.

“Why do you care about Julian Diaz?” Patrice asked. Maritza shrugged. “Yadriel was curious about him.” All four sets of eyes swung to him. Heat flooded his cheeks. “Uhhh.”

His stormy eyes slid to Yadriel’s, holding a question. “¿Me dejas robarte un beso?” he said softly, in the most agonizingly beautiful Colombian accent Yadriel had ever heard. It was pure and melodic, like a song.

To Julian, he asked, “Is Yadriel your friend?” The word burned. “¡𝘔𝘪 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘰!” he snapped viciously.

How long after he was gone would Yadriel be dreaming about Julian and this drive? Yadriel thought it would be worth the sleepless nights ahead.