Chapter 13
Theo
Not much phases me. Even with my flair for dramatics, I’ve always kept a level head. Nothing has ever truly thrown me off my game, but this…
Fuck that guy. Fuck him sideways and right off the edge of a cliff.
A swarm of thoughts buzzes through my mind and refuses to settle into any order I can understand. I am extraordinarily in tune with my emotions, but I have no idea how to sort through everything Dante has just told me. I can’t even figure out where to begin.
My insides are tangled and sticky, knotted so tightly they refuse to unravel.
A lightbulb flickers on inside my head, and everything about Dante falls into place. The unanswered questions and subtle nuances suddenly make perfect sense—his hesitation with relationships, the low self-esteem, and that fierce, almost crippling need for control.
What it must be like to carry all of that inside. I would explode from the pressure.
Another realization surfaces as I remember the times I have seen Dante snap. “You don’t have to answer this,” I say, glancing up at his profile while he stares absently at the wall. “You said Trent made you submit… did he make you call him something?”
Dante coughs out a bitter laugh, sniffling as he quickly wipes the corner of his eye. “Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” He pauses for a deep inhale. “Daddy. In the beginning he let it slide if I refused or forgot, but later… well, let’s just say it didn’t go unpunished.”
“Dante…” I whisper as I remember the times I teased him with the word. “I gave you a hard time and told the guys to call you that. You should’ve… holy shit, I’m so fucking sorry.”
He squeezes me tighter. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“You had no way of knowing. If I don’t share what triggers me, I can’t expect people to read my mind and accommodate me.”
“No, but I saw your reaction,” I argue. “I could tell it got to you. I just… I wanted to get a rise out of you, that’s all. I wanted your attention.”
He tilts his head to look at me, shaking it slowly. “Theo, every ounce of my undivided attention has been yours since the moment you walked into my life. It has never wavered. Not once.” His voice softens further. “But now that you’ve heard my history, you understand why I can’t act on this.”
“Um, no, actually,” I say, sitting up straighter. “I don’t understand at all. Care to enlighten me?”
“Theo…” he groans. “It’s been six years since I was in a relationship, and even before Trent, they were never healthy. I’ve never been in one that wasn’t completely fucked up. And what Trent did to my body…” The words die on his lips, and I hate the defeated expression that settles over his face.
I hate how crushed he looks as he continues.
“There are… places that I can’t stand to be touched.
Places I might never be comfortable having touched again.
What sort of life would that be for you, having to worry about triggering a panic attack every time you want to be close to me?
Even just the thought of sex sends me into a spiral sometimes.
I’ve told you over and over, Theo. I’m broken.
” The tiny crack in his voice nearly splinters me on the spot.
“You’re not broken, and you’re worth the wait. I’m patient,” I say, sliding my knees on either side of his hips until I’m sitting on his thighs.
“Nobody is that patient,” he mutters.
“For you I would be.”
Those intense dark eyes bore into mine for a few long seconds before he sighs and offers me a sad smile. “I wouldn’t ask you to put your life on hold to deal with my mess.”
“And what about what I want?” I challenge as he forces out a heavy exhale. “What if I want to put my life on hold for your mess? Why are you the one who gets to decide what’s best for us? Where’s my say in this?”
“I love you, Theo,” he says, emphasizing each syllable. “Enough to put you first, above everything else. You are my best friend and the most incredible person I have ever met. Please understand that just having you in my life makes me happier than I’ve ever been.”
“You love me?” I ask in a whisper.
He swallows, his eyes darting away for a moment before he nods.
My hands find his cheeks, the coarse stubble scratching against my palms as I lean in closer. “Then let me love you back.” I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his and savoring the quiet moan that slips from his mouth into mine.
“I do, you know,” I whisper against the kiss. “Love you back. I always have.”
All these kisses we’ve shared have never gone beyond this—simple and sweet, with barely a trace of tongue. But even without it, kissing Dante feels like the most sensual thing I’ve ever done in my life.
He pulls away and meets my eyes again. “It’s why this has to stop. We can’t do this, Theo. The kissing, the touching… it’s too much. Too easy to slip into more.”
“Then say fuck it and slip,” I beg. “Let yourself fall. Dive into this. Jump with me.”
The tiniest ray of hope inside me dims with every second he hesitates, and finally, he shakes his head and puts out the light.
“We can’t be more than what we are. I won’t risk hurting you.”
My hands fall to his chest, drawn to the steady beat of his heart pounding beneath my palm.
The other half of mine.
“Okay.” I force the word out even as it tears me apart.
“Alright. I won’t pressure you, but I’m also not giving up on this.
Take all the time you need. Do whatever it takes to convince yourself that you’re worthy of happiness.
Find that trust in yourself that I already have in you. You would never hurt me, Dante. Never.”
He offers me a bittersweet smile as I slide off his lap. “Thank you,” he whispers while I settle back into the couch.
“Don’t jump to gratitude just yet,” I tease gently. “You’ve forgotten how relentless I can be.”
“How could I ever forget one of your defining traits?”
I lean in to rest my head on him, then hesitate and glance up to meet his eyes.
He gives a single nod and slides his arm over my shoulders as I relax against him.
We fall into a comfortable silence. I put on a movie, but I only give it half my attention while my thoughts race.
There’s only one question echoing in my mind, bouncing and ricocheting like a stray bullet.
The world has repeatedly beaten him down. How do I make him believe he deserves everything it has to offer?
The next week passes without any real excitement. Dante remains wary around me until he finally realizes I meant what I said.
I won’t pressure him, but that doesn’t mean I won’t mess with him.
Dante will be at the studio no later than five thirty for practice, so the guys and I arrive at five to set up.
By the time Dante arrives, music is blasting from the speakers, and his brows knit as he walks in.
My grin is manic, Eric can’t hide his either, and while Tai and Dmitri are dong better, neither of them is maintaining a poker face.
“What’s going on in here? Did I get the time wrong…” His voice trails off the moment he spots our fifth member. “Oh, what the fuck?” he whispers, eyes widening as I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Dante, meet Blow Up Wante.”
Dante’s guitar is strapped across the chest of a blow-up doll with exaggerated lips that look like a puffy donut and a giant balloon cock protruding proudly from its hips.
“Why does it look exactly like me?” he demands.
I burst into laughter and rush over, affectionately stroking its smooth, bald head. “Does it? I didn’t even notice.”
Dante’s eyes wander slowly over the doll, his expression still caught somewhere between disbelief and confusion. “You didn’t notice?” he asks, completely deadpan. He leans in closer, inspecting the round lips. “It’s my twin… even has the same mole as me.”
I lean in beside him, trying to look thoughtful while my gaze shifts back and forth between him and the doll. “Huh… would you look at that? What a coincidence.”
Eric lets a giggle slip free, and Dmitri joins him.
“What did you say his name was?” Dante asks, one brow arched high.
“Wante.”
“I have so, so many questions,” Dante mutters. “But first—what the actual fuck?”
I cup my hands over the doll’s non-existent ears. “Don’t listen to him, Wante. He’s just sad that he’s no longer the prettiest man in the room.” Loud squeaks fill the air as I lift the doll and hold him in front of me. “He expects an apology.”
Dante heaves a heavy sigh while the others dissolve into uncontrollable laughter.
I take a step forward until Wante’s inflated cock presses against Dante’s belly.
“Oopsie daisy. Let’s let him kiss that and make it all better.
” I tilt the doll’s donut mouth to the spot where it had just assaulted him and make a loud, exaggerated kissing sound.
“Are you proud of yourself?” Dante asks, lips pursed and brow lifted as he looks at me, clearly fighting to hide his amusement. He’s cute when he pretends he isn’t enjoying this.
“So proud,” I whisper.
“Where did this even come from?” He pulls the doll from my hands, and Eric’s giggles grow louder as the squeaks intensify.
“I might’ve had it custom ordered. Watch this.” I squeeze the hand, and a deep robotic voice says, “My name is Wante and I need a good blow!”
I press it again, and this time it says, “Goddamn it, Eric!”
“Why is it yelling at me?” Eric demands.
I hold up a finger to shush him and give the hand one last squeeze. “Please rub my beautiful bald head!”
Dante stares at me until, without warning, he throws his head back and releases the deepest, richest laugh I’ve ever heard from him. Everyone else’s laughter sputters to a stop as they watch him crack up until tears gather in his eyes.
“Damn it, Theo,” he wheezes between laughs, pulling me into a hug that squishes Wante between us with another burst of loud squeaks. “What am I going to do with you?” he asks, wiping the gleeful tears from his eyes.
“Whatever you want,” I answer honestly.
He hugs me tighter, and even the overpowering chemical rubber odor from Wante doesn’t deter me. I curl in, soaking up the sound of his happiness.