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I don’t know. I’m independent. Always have been. I’ve always been proud of that fact. I’m not one to let anyone tell me what to do, but would I let Tomas dictate my life? I don’t know.
Not that it matters. Because he doesn’t get possessive over me. Instead, he just waits for Carter to answer his question, his eyes not meeting mine—not even a glance, his body still and almost unyielding.
Carter looks unsure, but then slowly nods his head, fidgeting on Reed’s lap. “Yes. I think he’ll be a great addition to the site. But he doesn’t have to work with Damon. I could introduce him a different way.”
My heart feels like it’s in my throat as I implore Tomas to listen to me. I plead with him using my eyes.
All he needs to do is look at me, or tell Carter he doesn’t want Leo touching me. That he doesn’t want me to be a camboy if it means other men will touch me.
Say. Something.
And he does. It’s just not at all what I want to hear.
“If you think Damon would be able to help him, maybe they should. It’s their job after all. Just ajob.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, doesn’t sound quite sure, and deep down I know he’s not okay with this, but he’s not saying it. Why the hell won’t he just admit it?
“That’s true,” I say, hearing the exasperation in my voice, but not being able to mask it. “It is myjob.”
Carter looks like he wants to be anywhere else other than here, and tonight definitely took a turn for the worse. Jasper is eyeing me hard, his lips pursed in annoyance, waiting for me to say something more—or perhaps waiting to tell me he told me so.
To his credit, he keeps his mouth shut, but it feels like my heart has started to splinter. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this. I’ve never cared about this kind of stuff before, but with Tomas, it just feels different.
We’re different. I want things between us to be open and honest.
And he’s not being honest right now.
Tomas nods his head again, still not looking at me. “It is. And I know that. You should message him back, Damon.”
“Damon…” Carter’s voice starts to warn, but I don’t want to hear it. If Tomas doesn’t want to tell me how he feels, then fine. Maybe this doesn’t mean as much to him. Or maybe he doesn’t really feel the same as I do. Maybe all of the fucking has been just that. Just a good ass time.
At least to him.
There’s a slight tremor in my hand as I type back a message to Leo.
Me:
Sure. When and where?
Tomas’s eyes are suddenly on me. Intent, discerning, wanting. Normally, I’d flirt in a text to set up a collab. Maybe even call them and tease them over the phone, get them all amped up and ready to fuck me on camera, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t fucking breathe.
Me:
Can’t wait.
It’s a lie. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about anyone else touching me, kissing me, fucking me. Anyone that isn’t Tomas. I got too in my head about what this is. I got romantic about a man who just came out as bi. I don’t even know if he sees forever with me.
Tears are threatening to fall, and I feel like a total idiot here in front of my friends. It’s silly. This is my job, this is mylivelihood, and for the past several days I’ve been living in this bubble of make-believe with Tomas. I don’t even know if I’ve fully processed all of this, but I was fooling myself. This can’t be a traditional relationship. I might have put things on hold with my filming these past weeks, but I was fooling myself.
Tomas obviously doesn’t care what I do.
I shouldn’t care either.
But I do. I fucking care and it’s making my eyes sting.
“You okay?” Reed asks, and I turn my watery gaze over to my friends.
“I’m totally fine. Looking forward to a new collab,” I lie and feel Tomas stiffen next to me. Suddenly, he stands up and gestures to his face.
