His expression softens slightly, but the wariness remains.
“You’re not just some phase I’m going through, Theo. You’re—” My throat tightens around the words. “You’re my first thought when I wake up in the morning. The last thought before I sleep. When something good happens, you’re the one I want to tell. When shit goes wrong, you’re who I need.”
My thumbs brush across his cheekbones. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Man or woman. It terrifies me how much I need you in my life.”
I feel him lean into my touch, almost imperceptibly.
“If you gave up on me right now, I’d deserve it,” I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m asking you not to. Because the thought of my life without you in it—” I swallow hard. “It’s not a life I want to live.”
Theo’s eyes glisten in the dim light of my apartment. His hands come up to cover mine, still cradling his face.
“Victor,” he whispers, my name a question and answer all at once.
I press my forehead against his, closing my eyes against the vulnerability threatening to overwhelm me. “I’m done making you wait. I promise.”
I lean in slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wants. But he doesn’t. Our lips meet in a kiss so gentle. No desperation, no battle for dominance. Just the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper than either of us expected to find.
His hands slide from mine to cup my jaw, his touch featherlight. I can feel him trembling slightly beneath my fingertips, matching the tremor in my own chest. When we finally break apart, his eyes remain closed for a moment, dark lashes against his skin.
“I’m scared too, you know,” he whispers, opening his eyes to meet mine. “This isn’t... this isn’t what I do.”
“What do you mean?”
He takes a shaky breath, glancing away. “I don’t do commitment. I don’t do exclusive. Before you, I never wanted just one person.” His voice grows softer. “I always loved the freedom, the endless possibilities of single life. No attachments, no expectations. Just connection without consequence.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his admission. All this time I’d worried about my own vulnerability, never considering he might be just as exposed.
“What changed?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
He looks back at me, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You happened. And suddenly, freedom didn’t feel so free anymore.” His fingers trace the line of my jaw. “For the first time in my life, the thought of being with anyone else feels... empty.”
I pull him closer, wrapping my arms around him. He tucks his head beneath my chin, fitting against me like the final piece of a puzzle I’ve spent my life completing.
“We’re both in uncharted territory here,” I murmur into his hair. “Me with a man. You with... anyone.”
He laughs softly against my chest. “Quite the pair we make.”
I hold Theo tighter, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against my chest. There’s something right about this moment—no frantic tearing at clothes, no battle for dominance—just us, standing in my kitchen, acknowledging what we’ve become to each other.
“Stay tonight,” I whisper into his hair. Not a command, but a request.
He tilts his face up to mine, those dark eyes searching. “Just sleeping?”
“Just sleeping,” I confirm, though my body stirs at his closeness. “I sleep better with you here.”
We move to the bedroom, stripping down to our boxers in comfortable silence. I watch as he slides under my sheets, claiming his side of the bed like he belongs there. Because he does. In my bed, in my life.
He threads his fingers through mine, bringing our joined hands to rest against his heart. For once, I’m not thinking about what I might lose—my reputation, certain sponsors, the image I’ve cultivated for years. Instead, I’m focused on what I’ve found: this unexpected connection, this person who sees through every defense I’ve built.
“We’re going to figure this out,” I murmur against his neck, feeling more certain with each word. “Together.”
He squeezes my hand in silent agreement, and I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin. Whatever comes—Dawson, sponsors, whispers at the gym—none of it matters as much as this. As him.
42
THEO
I’m halfway through making breakfast when I hear the soft thud of something hitting my apartment floor. Setting down the spatula beside the sizzling eggs, I wipe my hands and pad barefoot across the hardwood floor.
