CHAPTER 51 – CASPIAN
Antonio thrusts his new notebook in front of my face. “Try it. Feel the texture.”
“The texture hasn’t changed in the last two minutes.” I sound amused, but I secretly love his enthusiasm.
“It has all the best ones,” he marvels, inspecting the philosophers on the cover.
“Look, this is Socrates. For him, wisdom came from realizing you knew nothing.”
“That makes me extremely wise, then.”
He giggles. “I can pay you back,” he says, giving me the adorable, stubborn frown I’ve started to crave. “In small installments.”
“It wasn’t a loan, Antonio. It was a gift.”
“But it must have cost twenty bucks. Notebooks like these are expensive.”
“Still a gift. You want an ice cream?”
We step into the line, holding hands. The simple, public declaration fills me with pride.
Then, a judgment error I made in the past walks by. He slows when he recognizes me. His expression shifts from surprise to resentment when he clocks our joined hands.
“Jackpot.” His smile is forced.
I flinch at the word. Antonio stiffens.
“Sorry,” I say flatly. “Remind me who you are?”
The guy laughs. “Cute.”
When he realizes I’m not playing, his smile curdles into a malicious sneer.
“Jake. You fucked me so hard we almost broke the bedframe. Need more detail?”
Antonio lets out a hiss, sounding like a murderous teakettle.
Jake smirks at him, relishing the damage.
“Did you know about your boyfriend’s nickname? He’s famous.”
“Fuck off.” My voice is a low warning.
We’ve stepped away from the line, but people are staring, openly curious.
Antonio’s fingers curl in the hem of my shirt, his eyes flicking between us.
“Jackpot cashes out after one hit,” Jake adds.
I’m fucking done. I step into his space until he’s forced to look up.
“Just because I wasted an hour of my life on a little shit like you doesn’t give you the right to talk to my boyfriend like that.”
Jake’s eyes flash with genuine hurt.
He steps back, but I’m past caring about his ego.
“You call me Jackpot? Antonio is the jackpot. The real deal. Every second he gives me is the luckiest goddamn second of my life.”
I take Antonio’s hand and lead him away, but the second we stop, he recoils and yanks his hand free. He stares right ahead, his posture rigid.
“He was no one,” I say, my voice pleading. “Antonio, please. Look at me.”
He looks so hurt. I can’t stand it. I don’t know how to make it hurt less for him. He presses his lips together, trying to stop the wobble.
“You broke a bed with… no one?”
I take a deep breath.
“It was months ago. I didn’t even remember his name.”
I realize it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words leave my lips.
“Makes sense,” he says, his voice thick. “Considering there’ve been hundreds, right?”
“Don’t.”
“Thousands?”
“Please stop.”
I’m terrified he’ll never look at me as Caspian again. Only as the Jackpot.
“Oh, I’m stopping,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m stopping THIS.”
He gestures wildly between us.
Then he stomps off. Literally stomps, each step a heavy, punctuated fuck-you.
I stare after him.
What the fuck should I do now? Apparently my ability to soothe my boyfriend is non-fucking-existent when I’m the reason he’s hurting.
Then I snap out of it and catch up with the tiny ball of fury marching down the street.
He ignores me until he whirls around, hissing.
“If you try to walk with me, I’ll walk FASTER.”
“Antonio, my legs are longer than you are tall.”
I tried to lighten the mood, but judging from the way he inhales like he’s about to dive underwater, I failed.
“DID YOU JUST CALL ME SMALL?”
“I—well yes—I mean, you aren’t exactly—”
“WOW. Mocking my size!” He throws his hands up. “It’s not like I could magically undergo a growth spurt to please the mighty Jackpot!”
“Sweetheart, I wasn’t mocking your size. At least I didn’t mean to.”
My voice is reaching a level of desperation that is completely foreign to me.
“Can we take the car and continue this privately?”
“OH! Now you’re embarrassed to be seen with me! Is it because I’m SMALL?”
“Yes,” I snap, my frustration breaking through. “That’s exactly what I said. Embarrassed by your height. Yep, that’s the issue here.”
He narrows his eyes. “Careful with the tone, Jackpot.”
I count to three, then continue to six just in case.
“Did you hear what I said about you?”
“You said your legs are longer than I am tall!”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “To Jake. I told him how lucky I am to have you.”
He kicks at a pebble viciously.
“Congratulations! You found the last virgin in North Carolina! The only guy you haven’t had sex with. I’m a collector's item!”
His words feel like a slap.
He darts away again, but I’m right behind him.
“I can’t erase my past,” I say, trying very hard to stay calm.
“I’m not asking you to!” Tears pour down his face. “I’m erasing myself from your present!”
My stomach drops.
“You’re breaking up with me because I’ve had sex?”
“Rub it in, why don’t you!”
I press my fingers into my eyelids.
“Do you think I enjoy being called Jackpot? Here’s a newsflash for you—I don’t. It’s the stupidest fucking nickname I can think of and I hate it.”
Antonio stands very straight.
“Here’s a newsflash for YOU!”
He takes a breath, then promptly forgets his newsflash. He lets out a frustrated hiss.
“I’ll say it in a minute! It was very CLEVER!”
“Let’s just get in the car. It’s the sensible thing to do.”
“Don’t patronize me!”
“It was hardly patronizing.”
“Saying it was hardly patronizing is the most patronizing thing you could say.”
He jabs my chest.
“I just remembered my newsflash.”
He jabs me again.
“LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU SEX-OBSESSED, PATRONIZING, TALL… PERSON!”
“Jesus,” I snap as two elderly ladies stare at us from across the street. “Stop being a pain in the ass for one second and listen to me.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I want them back.
“I’m sorry. You’re not—”
“I’m a pain in the ASS?” He’s pure wildfire. “A nice word, considering you have been in EVERYONE’s ass!”
“Stop exaggerating.”
“You’ve slept with THOUSANDS of people!”
“I have not.”
“And I—” His voice breaks.
He wipes his face angrily, but the tears keep coming.
The world goes unbearably soft and quiet when he looks at me, crying in earnest.
“I haven’t slept with anyone. You know that.”
He lets out a shaky breath.
“I can’t compete with bedframe-breaking blond giraffes like Jake! I’m NOT a giraffe. I’m a—I’m a LABUBU.”
Silence.
I look at him, my heart breaking and swelling at once.
I’d burn the whole damn world down before letting him feel inferior.
“Oh no,” he wails. “I can’t believe I said I’m a Labubu. I’m NOT. I’m unwell—I must be possessed.”
I pull him into my chest, holding him until the sobs turn into shudders.
He finally melts against me, fisting my shirt.
“All the blond giraffes can fuck off,” I whisper into his hair. “Everyone else can fuck off. I want you. Just you. My Labubu.”
“I’m not a Labubu,” he says, sniffling against my chest. “That was a stupid thing to say.”
I lift his chin until his stormy eyes meet mine.
“When I first saw you, I actually, literally, forgot how to breathe. You scowled at me, and I was gone. So fucking gone. I didn’t know what hit me.”
He hiccups. I keep going.
“You make me so happy. Happier than I ever thought I could be.”
He sniff-snarls. I don’t think anyone else could manage a sound just like that. It’s feral and adorable.
“Even now? I make you happy even now?”
I kiss his jaw, then the corner of his mouth.
“Even now,” I promise. “Especially now. Always. You’re the one I want.”
He snorts.
“Okay, Travolta.”
“I’m serious.”
“Just don’t start singing.”
“I got chills—”
“STOP.”
“They’re multiplying—”
He’s giggling now, the sound lifting the weight off my soul, making my heart soar. I kiss him then, and he immediately hijacks it, kissing me with wild abandonment. I lift him up and he wraps his arms and legs around me, deepening the kiss.
“I want to have sex,” he says urgently. “Tonight.”
God, I want it. I want it so much that I have to force the words out.
“Not like this,” I say as tenderly as I can.
He recoils like I stabbed his heart.
“So you don’t want me? Is it my inexperience? Is it the Labubu thing?”
His lower lip is trembling again.
“I knew it. I can’t compete with billions of—”
I interrupt him with a kiss—a ruthless, silent promise. I feel dizzy with desire when I let him go.
“There is no competition,” I say, my voice rough.
“Never has been. I’ve only ever been yours. I didn’t always know it, but it’s true.”
He pouts, his wet lashes fluttering.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” I wipe the tears from his cheeks.
“Don’t remind me!”
“Stay the night,” I suggest, relieved that the worst of the storm has passed.
He narrows his eyes. “What would we do?”
“You can make me a sandwich.”
The tiniest hint of a smile.
“I’ll stay the night, but you can shove that sandwich up your ass.”
“That’s the spirit.”