CHAPTER 52 – ANTONIO
We walk to the car in silence. That’s okay. I’m too tired to talk anyway.
I wish my brain would let me rest, but it keeps poking me from every direction.
Caspian must think I’m unbalanced. I probably am. What in the world made me say I’m a Labubu? They aren’t even cute. They’re tiny, teeth-baring, oddly hostile creatures.
Madonna. I’m a Labubu.
I glance at Caspian and then quickly look away when he catches me.
He squeezes my hand.
I told him I hate him, and he’s still holding my hand.
I accused him of… well. Let’s not revisit that. He’s still saying I’m the one he wants.
That should be enough. It should be, but it isn’t.
Jake’s face flashes in my mind again—that smug, infuriating grin he was wearing when he said what he said.
The words lodge in my chest like splinters.
I try not to picture it, but I fail. Picturing it is basically the only thing I’m capable of anymore.
I know it’s not Caspian’s fault that he has a past and I don’t. He wasn’t even aware of my existence when he had sex with Jake.
I know this in theory. In practice it hurts. It hurts so much.
I wish I could tell Caspian that my past involves a sex basement, but that would be a lie. Luca’s basement had a yoga mat, not a handcuffing corner.
If I told Caspian about the intense session of cat reels he would nod politely and not lose his sleep.
My stomach flutters when I peek at him again. It always flutters when I’m near him. Or when I think about him. He’s so tall and handsome and strong.
I wipe my eyes angrily. Maybe I’m too small for his preferences. He did bring up our height difference.
I halt. What if that was his attempt to break up with me and I didn’t realize?
Are we even together?
“Is everything alright?”
He gives my hand another gentle squeeze, and I can’t take it anymore.
“If you want to break up with me, can you say it out loud instead of squeezing my hand, because how am I supposed to know if it’s a loving squeeze or a Morse code that means ‘run along, small person’?”
Caspian stares at me. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Finally, he just pulls me into a hug.
“I don’t want to break up with you, sweetheart. And you can be one hundred percent sure that every squeeze is a loving squeeze.”
“Every squeeze?”
“Every squeeze. It can be meant to reassure you and to let you know I’m here and not going anywhere, but love is always included.”
“Okay. Good.”
We stay silent until we’re inside the car.
Before he starts the engine, he turns toward me. He looks concerned. His thumb brushes my cheek.
“What are you thinking about now?”
How scared I am.
How badly I’m going to mess this up.
How much I love you.
“I’m thinking about all the sex we’re never ever going to have.”
Caspian takes a deep breath.
“I said not tonight. I didn’t say never ever,” he replies calmly. “I don’t want your first time to be after a fight. I hope you’re not mad at me for that.”
“Oh, I’m not mad,” I say breezily. “I’m… horny.”
I shift in my seat, trying to look sultry but probably channeling a lustful penguin.
“So very horny.”
His knowing look sends shivers down my spine.
“You’re not playing fairly,” he reprimands. His voice alone makes heat rush through me.
Now I’m actually horny.
The smile I give him is pure innocence.
“I’m not playing.”
I shift in my seat again, letting the tension stretch. I lower my voice to a huskier, more seductive register.
“Except with myself later.”
“Antonio.”
The way he says my name is a warning—gentle, controlled, but still a warning.
Blood rushes south, and I bite my lip.
“What? I might—I might jerk off in your shower.”
I’m not serious. I just want him to look at me like that. Like he’s tempted. Like I’m not small and inexperienced, but someone he could lose control over.
“Really?” His voice drops dangerously low. “You’re going to jerk off in my shower?”
Oddio… Why am I trying to play poker with a professional when I don’t even have a full deck?
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. I can’t back down now. “I just might.”
Silence fills the car.
Did I go too far? Is he annoyed? Disappointed? Tired of me pushing? Worried for his shower?
He doesn’t look angry or worried. He doesn’t look like losing control, either.
I feel even smaller now in comparison.
Caspian pulls into my parents’ driveway so that I can get a few things from my room.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Mom asks immediately, pulling me into a hug.
“Caspian, so nice to see you again.” She smacks kisses on his cheeks.
“No time for dinner,” I shout from the stairwell. I get my toothbrush and a set of clothes for the morning.
I’m back in less than five minutes, but my parents have already adopted Caspian.
He’s changing a lightbulb in the living room with that casual competence he does everything with.
His shirt rides up just enough to show a sliver of carved muscle along his waist. It’s like a teaser of his abs and I want to binge the whole show.
Mom is hovering at his side, complimenting his every movement.
Dad is explaining why he prefers the Bridgerton novels to the series.
The second Caspian is done, Mom shoves a frozen lasagna into his hands.
“For the sleepover.”
“It’s not a sleepover!” I roll my eyes at her. “We’re not five.”
Mom ignores me. She’s too busy beaming at Caspian, like he saved two kittens while extinguishing a fire with the pure competence of his breath.
“This is so kind. Thank you,” he says, smiling warmly.
“I’ll get you another one!” Mom cries, sprinting toward the kitchen. I’ve never seen her move so fast.
“You need all your energy. All your stamina!”
“Mom, we’re leaving!” I protest. “No more food.”
“Wait!” Mom calls from the kitchen. She chases us out to the porch and thrusts another frozen lasagna into Caspian’s arms.
He accepts it as graciously as the first one. Mom promises to have three more waiting for him next time.
Then she asks if I remembered my toothbrush.
“My bambino is having an adult sleepover,” she says, dabbing her eyes.
She keeps waving as long as she can see us.
In the car, I put on “Be My Lover” by La Bouche.
Caspian doesn’t comment.
We drive in silence.
I try to think it’s a comfortable one, but my stomach is in a knot.
“Mom won’t stop now,” I say when the quiet gets too much. “She’ll bury you under lasagna sheets.”
“I appreciate her generosity,” Caspian says. “It’s nice to have home-made meals.”
I frown.
“What do you eat if not home-made meals? Raw protein alone in the dark?”
Caspian shrugs.
“This and that. Sometimes I eat with Cole and Noah.”
I almost call Mom.
“This and that is not a meal! You need proper food.”
“I eat enough,” he says, sounding almost defensive.
At his place, Caspian stacks the lasagnas in the fridge.
I hover at the counter, hands shoved in my pockets, trying not to stare at the reassuring flex of his forearms.
He closes the fridge.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. His voice is low and calm, making me feel shy all of a sudden.
I shake my head.
“Thirsty?”
“A li—little.”
He pours a glass of water and hands it to me, his fingers brushing mine on purpose.
His gaze keeps me pinned.
I gulp down the water, my heart drumming.
I open my mouth to apologize for crossing every possible line but he speaks first.
“I think it’s time for that shower.”
My pulse spikes.
“Wh—what?”
“The shower you mentioned.”
His gaze lowers briefly to my mouth, then returns to my eyes.
“The one you said you needed because you’re—” A pause.
“Horny.”
Heat floods my neck.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to watch.”
My head feels light.
He steps closer. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel the heat radiating from him.
“You can say no,” he says quietly. “Always. To anything.”
I look at his face, trying to figure out what he expects from me.
“What do you want me to do?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulls me in and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what you want.”
“Do you want me to do that?”
“Not if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’re trying to earn something.”
I lower my gaze.
I’m not uncomfortable.
But I don’t know what to do, either.
Caspian rubs my back slowly. My eyelashes flutter when I feel myself relaxing.
“In the car, how did you want me to react?” he asks gently.
My face burns.
“I wasn’t after a reaction.”
“Be honest.”
I press my face against his chest.
“I liked how you looked at me,” I admit, my fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.
“How you sounded.”
I shift my weight. My voice gets smaller.
“It felt like you wanted me too.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Saying no wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do.”
“But I wanted it,” I mutter.
“You were jealous and hurt when you said it,” he reminds me. “Antonio, I’ve had sex to avoid feelings. I’ve had sex to distract myself. I don’t want that for us. I don’t want our first time to be an escape.”
I blink.
“You probably said a lot of wise things, but I only heard the part about you having sex and then I had to focus very hard on not biting your ear off.”
His mouth curves.
“I’m extremely mature,” I add.
“You’re trying to be, at least. I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t want to feel so small all the time,” I admit.
His arms close around me immediately.
“Oh baby, you’re not small,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over my hair. “You’re shorter than me, sure, but the impact you have on me is immense.”
“But you don’t lose control.”
“That’s true,” he says evenly. “I choose when to let go.”
I close my eyes. Why does everything sound so hot when he says it?
His thumb brushes slowly along my hip.
“If what you wanted was to feel that I want you too—I do.”
Slowly, his gaze drifts down my body and back up again.
My breath stutters. My fingers curl in his shirt.
“I have to constantly hold myself back around you,” he continues, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Because I want you so damn much.”
Heat floods through me.
“In fact, I struggle to keep my hands to myself when I’m with you.” He looks at me steadily. “But I will always protect you, too.”
That’s what finally undoes me. That, and the way he kisses me.