Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Dante had booked a room in the motel, the same as usual. He’d even checked in and showered after picking up everything he needed. Yet as he started dressing and scrolling through the app, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than swipe on a profile and say he could host.
He’d rather crawl on his belly through mud in the middle of winter.
Lie face down in the sand for hours, waiting for the danger to pass.
Only this time the danger was waiting for him at home, which did not explain why he had checked out and gotten back in his truck for the drive home. What the fuck had gotten into him?
He hadn’t been so hung up on a guy in a very long time.
The situation was different now. No one was going to rat him out to the people in charge. The other guy wasn’t married and pretending that what happened in another country didn’t count.
Maybe Shannon was right, that what happened under his roof stayed under his roof, and they could both have some fun. But he didn’t know how to do that because he’d never done that.
It had always been stolen moments, or hook-ups. He never actually lived with someone or truly gotten to know them—he’d ever only known the side they wanted him to see, and he’d only ever shown them what he wanted them to know.
Shannon would move out and move on; Dante had no doubts in his mind about that. He was too scarred and too fucked up, and while Shannon hadn’t lived a blessed life, he at least had the balls to admit his mistakes and be aware of what needed to change.
He’d spent most of his life with his head in the sand, telling himself that change was dangerous. That had been one point in his life where he would’ve rather run into the middle of a firefight than tell anyone he was gay. Was that still true?
He chewed over that question for far too long as the miles slipped by before deciding it wasn’t.
And maybe part of that was because he had gone to Pride and had seen the way everyone else had enjoyed it. There hadn’t been any fear. Shannon certainly hadn’t worried about coming up to him and making his intentions known.
There were gay couples in town. It wasn’t like he was breaking new ground even though it was new for him, and he didn’t like being so exposed. It felt like he was ripping off bandages so everyone could inspect the wounds all over again, and nothing good ever came from that.
But he didn’t turn around and head back to his motel, and before he knew it, he was halfway home, so it made more sense to continue.
He had no idea what he was going to say when he got there.
Did he apologize for being a coward and running away from what he really wanted?
Did he say nothing and just kiss him until they were both breathless and desperate?
Or did he say nothing and hope that Shannon never mentioned that he was supposed to return tomorrow?
But if he did nothing, what was the point of going home, aside from the fact that he wanted to be there? He needed to be near him. Which was tragic and setting himself up for more hurt. He did not need any more scars or pain, and that was why he didn’t get attached to anyone.
Or anything.
The closer he got, the more his gut twisted with anxiety that he was doing the wrong thing. The wrong thing by what measure? Because his heart and dick and brain were not in agreement.
If he just let himself enjoy, knowing that it was going to end, surely it wouldn’t hurt as much. He turned onto his road and slowed, his heartbeat heavy. When he pulled into the driveway, he stopped.
It wasn’t the first time he’d sat in his truck at the bottom of the driveway. The last time had been after the funeral for his parents and sister. He’d barely been able to walk, and the thought of going to the empty house, knowing they were truly gone, was too much.
This time the house wasn’t empty, and it was just as terrifying.
Instead of breaking down and spending an hour in the car wondering why he was alive, he drew in several breaths, determined not to waste the life he had. He drove up to the house and parked.
The kitchen light was on, as were lights in Shannon’s rooms.
Dante wiped his palms on his jeans and got out, leaving his supplies in the car.
He made his way to the mudroom door, unlocked it, and went in.
He shut it quietly behind him and paused to listen.
He heard voices and music and made his way to the kitchen, expecting Shannon to be in the living room, but it was empty.
It was then he realized the sound was coming from Shannon’s room. He turned as Shannon stepped into the kitchen, dripping wet and wearing a pair of track pants that looked like they were trying to make an escape from his hips. In his hand was a baseball bat Dante had never seen before.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shannon sighed and lowered the bat.
Dante tried to keep his gaze on Shannon’s face and failed several times. “I live here…and I decided to come home instead of wasting money on a hotel.” Which was a lie because he had checked in. He wanted to be here; he wanted to be on his knees licking the water from Shannon’s skin.
“I thought someone was breaking in.”
“Why would anyone come out here and break in?”
“Oh, I don’t know because everyone in town knows exactly what you’re doing? So they know the place is empty. Or assumed it was anyway.”
Dante stared at him, then laughed. “I’m sorry I disturbed your bath…” He drew in a breath and jumped off the edge. “But I am not sorry about dragging you out of the bath and catching you like that.”
“Is that right?” Shannon’s gaze flicked over him. “And I thought you took off to avoid me.”
He should’ve expected Shannon to call him out, but he hadn’t expected him to be so blunt about it. It was better to just own up and admit to being in the wrong and to drag it out. “Yeah, kind of. I panicked.”
“I figured.” He placed his free hand on his chest. “I didn’t realize I was so terrifying.”
“You’re not. But your confidence to do everything is. That’s not a bad thing. I just didn’t like the mirror being held up to me.”
It wasn’t only that Shannon was out. It was the way he confidently left everything he was familiar with to start over somewhere else. He walked away to rebuild while Dante dug in, hoping the storm would pass. Both tactics could be successful. It was only a problem because he only used one.
“No, you do not get to look at me and make me out to be some kind of role model or something.”
That hadn’t been what he meant either. “I’m not good at this, okay? I find you equal parts scary and sexy, and I want you…and I’m figuring out how to deal with this. You’re not an anonymous hook-up, but I don’t know how to do anything else.”
“Oh…well in that case…I can host.” He hooked his thumb toward his room. “Lights off faceless or…”
The whiplash stole his breath. “What?”
“I thought since that’s what you’re comfortable with, that would be a good place to start.”
“Yes…but it’s not what I want, and it’s not all I’ve had.” And he didn’t want to be talking about it. He wanted to be kissing him.
Shannon’s teeth raked over his lower lip in a way that was far too distracting. “You know, at some point, it helps to talk about things and establish likes and dislikes.”
“I dislike talking about it.”
“Should I text you instead?” He reached into his pocket and then realized his phone wasn’t on him.
“Please don’t text anything like that.”
“Fine.” Shannon took a step back. “But you don’t get what you want if you don’t ask for it.”
Dante nodded. “For tonight, can we agree that I came home because I wanted to be with you?”
“Sure. But that’s not actually what you want.
” He hooked his thumb in the waistband of his track pants, drawing attention to the hard line of his dick, and for a heartbeat Dante thought he was going to drag them down.
“Otherwise you’d be asking me what movie I was watching and making popcorn instead of looking at me like I am the snack. ”
“You are the only snack I want.” Heat spread across his chest and rose up his throat. He forced out the words, “I want to suck you.”
Shannon dropped the baseball bat on the floor, and this time, he did pull his track pants down, freeing his dick.