Chapter 23 #2
I can’t say it.
Suddenly, D’Angelo raises his hand to his head, wincing.
Alarmed, I sit up straighter. I raise my fingers to his temples, gently massaging.
D’Angelo moans. “That feels good.”
I massage him for another couple of minutes, before pushing him back.
I sit next to him. “Another headache?”
He nods.
“Here.” I pass D’Angelo his drink.
He sips with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no need to apologize. But you should take it easy.” I stroke his bicep. Worry coils through me. “Mike said that it could be down to exhaustion. Your nausea, nightmares, and dizziness. You’ve barely stopped for months. But he wants you to have tests done at the hospital.”
“Once the season is over.”
“You sound like Dee.”
“I’m aware. I just didn’t want to worry anyone until after these games—”
“Idiot.” My voice catches. I struggle to control my anger, clenching my hands on my knee into fists. I know that it’s actually fear making me see red. I’ve been working on that with my therapist. “Your health is more important than any stupid trophy.”
“Your career.” D’Angelo shoves away his drink, and it slops down the side like a furious sea.
“Robyn’s peace of mind. Your brother’s revenge that didn’t need to end in ashes.
The entire team’s — the town’s — future.
I never thought that I would have a chance of coming close to winning the Stanley Cup.
You look at me like I am some kind of god, but cucciolo, no one else has for years.
I was washed up. A misfit, loser, laughingstock.
Until you joined this team and gave me a final shot at being remembered as someone who mattered. ”
My throat is thick with tears. “Don’t say these things about yourself. They’re not true.”
D’Angelo’s expression is tight. “They are. Coach said them to me enough. I’d given up.
The fight had long been beaten out of me.
Because of you, however, I had hope again.
You brought my passion for the game back.
And now, we can become legends together.
Well, I’m fighting now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, whether it’s the pressure or a delayed reaction to the trauma that I’ve been going through.
But I’m not lying down. I’m not giving up. We’re winning against Wilder.”
I’m breathing fast, staring at him with wide eyes.
Why can’t he see himself like I see him?
He is already my legend — god.
D’Angelo inspired me throughout college. He mentored me to become the player that I am now.
I don’t care whether we win or lose the Stanley Cup.
He’ll always be my bloody hero.
I drag D’Angelo’s hand to my chest, hoping that he can feel how fast my heart is beating and that it is beating for him. “I’ll be right there fighting alongside you.”
D’Angelo drags me closer to him. “I never doubted it.”
His gaze is piercing; I shiver.
D’Angelo looks me up and down. “The only thing that I regret is that I won’t be able to take you down to On the RACK and ravish you, after we finish these sickeningly sweet mocktails.
Damn Mike and knowing me well enough to include kink in his strict doctor’s orders. I had this whole scene planned out.”
“Maybe I just want a romantic date with my hot boyfriend for once.”
“Romantic?”
Uncomfortable, I look away. Am I asking for too much?
I clear my throat. “Sorry. I know that you didn’t mean that. You want a kink scene.”
To my surprise, D’Angelo raises my hand to kiss the back of it. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
I raise wide, hopeful eyes to meet his.
“Cucciolo,” D’Angelo murmurs, “I thought that this already was a romantic date? That I took you on them a lot? Didn’t our candlelit dinners, movie nights, and stargazing count?
I must be rusty at this romance thing. This is one of the most important places in Freedom to me.
It took me months to be able to trust bringing Robyn or you here, sharing this side of myself.
I want to bring you here more often. I only do that with someone who is truly special to me.
How about I court you with poetry? Give you a lock of my hair to glue to your stick? Or how about…?”
“Before you offer any more horrifying suggestions like figure skating a love dance for me before the next game…” I laugh at D’Angelo’s shocked expression (I know that we’re both imagining it), while joy soars through me because D’Angelo has been showing me romance in his own way.
He does value me in this relationship, right?
“How about on our next date you serenade me on that piano?”
I point at the piano in the cocktail bar. I have been desperate to hear him play it ever since I saw it.
D’Angelo looks thoughtful. “How about we practice a duet? We could play it one evening.”
“Woah, darlin’, do you want to drive all your customers away?”
“You’ve been improving. It will be your debut. Then I will serenade you as a reward.”
It’s too tempting, both the idea of someone believing that I will be good enough to publicly perform and the chance to watch D’Angelo play a song that will be dedicated to me.
“Deal.” I turn my hand over to shake his.
D’Angelo leans closer, his lips turning up, wickedly. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to make a deal with the devil?”
My breath catches, and my dick thickens in my tight jeans. “I never was one to follow rules.”
D’Angelo holds my gaze, before letting go of my hand.
Confused, I watch as he pushes back from me and slides across the booth like he needs to put some distance between us.
My brow furrows, while I am unable to sit still in my seat. I rock forward, twirling my drink just to have something to do with my hands.
Have I said something wrong? Done something wrong?
I’m an idiot.
“Darlin’?” I try, softly.
“Your birthday is coming up,” D’Angelo says, surprising me. “Robyn and I want to offer you a special gift.”
“Oh.” My sick anxiety transforms into excitement. I still my hands, leaning across to him instead. “Did I spoil your surprise? Have you been working on a song together to serenade me? You’re playing, while Robyn is singing, right? She has an incredible voice.”
“Now I regret that we didn’t think of that. Principessa would look amazing dressed up as Marilyn Monroe, breathily singing “Happy Birthday to You”. But in fact, she and I were going to make this a surprise, before we discussed it and decided that I would talk about it with you first tonight.”
Nervous, I take a sip of my minty drink. “You’re suddenly very serious.”
He’s looking as nervous as I feel.
D’Angelo smooths down his hair with a shaky hand. “This will be a big decision for you. I wanted you to have the time to process and truly think it through before we…”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m overheated. I can’t draw in breaths.
A sudden rush of hope surges through me.
Say collar me…collar me…collar me…
I stare at D’Angelo with bright, gleaming eyes.
If I don’t look away from him, then he’ll say it.
He’ll want me.
He’ll never throw me away.
I try not to blink so hard that my eyes hurt.
I shouldn’t hope like this. It’s going to break me.
Please don’t break me…
D’Angelo’s gaze is intense. “Normally, I would prefer a sub to actively ask for this, but you’re different.
I don’t think that you would ask not because you don’t want, need, or are ready to take this next step.
Instead, because you believe that Robyn and I would reject you.
So, we’re making the offer. Then we’ll discuss it, okay? ”
“Okay,” I whisper.
I’m shaking with fear and anticipation.
Yet I have never felt so happy in my entire bloody life.
D’Angelo tilts up his chin. “Shay Prince, Robyn and I are offering for you to become our 24/7 sub. We would be honored if you accepted our collar.”
Collar.
He said it.
He bloody said it.
My eyes prick with tears.
I raise my hand, desperate to hold it around my neck and feel the weight there. As if he knows exactly what I need, D’Angelo reaches up and places his hand around my neck. He doesn’t put any pressure on my throat, but simply holds me, allowing me to become used to the sensation.
“Better?” He squeezes my neck, gently.
“Thanks.”
I’ll find a way to prove that I am worthy of the best birthday gift. I will earn it.
“Are you ready for this?” D’Angelo questions. “24/7? There is no rush. I’ll wait my entire life for you. And you don’t need to give me an answer now. We can talk it through as often as you like.”
I lean into his grip around my neck, holding his gaze and willing him to feel the sincerity in every one of my words.
“I want your collar, Sir. I’m ready.” The words spill from my lips like I was born to say them. “Own me.”
D’Angelo’s eyes darken, before he pulls me into a kiss.
Those two words — own me — are simple. Between us, however, they mean everything.
I can’t wait to return home to Robyn and prove to her just how much she has always owned me.