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The music had been seductive. The way Romeo danced was like watching people fuck, except it was one person, while my imagination did the rest. My cock was hard as steel in my shorts. Tristan leaned against me, pressing his side to mine as Romeo commanded the room. Hell, Tristan got close enough that he subtly pulled my hand into his lap so I could feel he was hard too. The willpower I needed to not take him to one of the bathroom stalls was strong. This wasn’t the place and when we were together, I wanted all of us to be there, not just Tristan and me. It most certainly wouldn’t be in a bathroom stall. Not that there was anything wrong with a quick get off and go in a bathroom. But these men deserved more from me.
When a guard came rushing from the back right for us and Greer and JJ jumped to their feet, I followed suit, not sure what was going on. Three words dumped a bucket of ice water on my heated body and my vision tunneled.
“Romeo needs you.”
That was all the guard got out before I took Tristan’s hand and we followed the guard into the back where Romeo huddled against the wall, his knees to his chest as tears ran down his face. He was naked except for the scrap of fabric covering his crotch.
I immediately went to him and dropped to my knees. Tristan did the same beside me. “Angel, you with me?” It didn’t take much for me to realize he was in the middle of a panic attack. Years spent with my brother made me acutely aware of what they looked like. They weren’t all the same and everyone handled them differently, but at the base of it was fear. Not logic. Not reason.
“Dash,” Romeo whispered, a slight shake in his voice.
“Yeah, it’s me. Tris too. Can I pick you up?” Romeo wouldn’t want to be here where others could see him. Without the ability to move on his own, I had to be the one to do it. Dexen kept the others back, giving us plenty of room.
“Please.”
Without hesitation, I got close enough to lift him into a bridal carry. Dexen directed us down a hallway to a door he entered the code into, and we were ushered inside. The click of the door behind us told me we were away from prying eyes. As I glanced around, I guessed we were in Dexen’s office.
“Sit on the couch,” he directed me. “Can I get you anything?”
“Water,” I told him. Romeo might not want it yet but when he came down from the fear that gripped him, the coolness of the liquid would feel good in his throat, especially after dancing.
Dexen placed a few bottles on an end table as I rested on the couch and brought Romeo with me. “What else can I do? Name it and it’s yours.”
I looked up and saw how worried Dexen was about Romeo. He twisted his fingers, then raked his hand through his hair.
“He’s okay, Dexen. It’s a panic attack. He’ll be all right in a bit. Can we have a few minutes alone?”
“Of course. I’ll be right outside. Just open the door if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
With one last glance at the man in my arms, Dexen left us alone. He truly cared about the people who worked for him. It wasn’t just a job or a way to earn a shit ton of money, though that was a perk. Dexen loved what he did and valued those he employed.
“Tris, baby, can you help me with my shirt?” I asked.
Tristan lifted it in the back as I leaned forward. Romeo’s arms were wrapped tightly around my neck with no chance of letting go, so the best Tristan could do was expose my torso. He followed suit and took his shirt off. We surrounded Romeo with our warmth and our... Fuck, was it love? I couldn’t deny how strongly my feelings were for them both, but love was a foreign concept to me. Sure, I loved my friends and my family, but a romantic love? It hadn’t happened before.
“We’ve got you,” Tristan murmured, pulling me out of my head. He held Romeo tighter. It was when I noticed how badly Romeo shook.
“You’re okay, angel,” I whispered with my cheek pressed to his head. His face was tucked against my neck. Fresh tears hit my skin.
Time became inconsequential. Nothing mattered but Romeo getting through this until he felt like he could breathe again. At least he didn’t hyperventilate to the point he passed out. That happened to Slater a few times and scared the fuck out of me. It was rare, but damn, I hated every second of him being out.
I locked eyes with Tristan. We didn’t need words to understand what was going through our minds. The feelings we had for each other and the man in our arms were beyond what I could voice. Between the two of us, we’d ensure no one hurt Romeo ever again. He hadn’t told us the details of what happened to him. If he never did, that was okay. What mattered was him knowing he was safe with us.
Every breath became easier, slower, until he was lax in our arms. Then the apologies started. The never-ending string of how we shouldn’t have to see him like this and how could we possibly want to be with him when he couldn’t get through a night.
“Angel, stop,” I told him. “Whatever triggered you, I promise it’s not as big as you think it is.”
Finally lifting his head from my neck, he stared me in the eyes while keeping a firm grip on Tristan’s arm wrapped around his stomach. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Every time Slater had a panic attack and told me what brought it on or what fed into it once it started, I listened to the words he spoke. His fears weren’t based on logic. Anxiety doesn’t give a solitary fuck what you know to be true. It feeds off the part of you that lets fear sink in. Like a damn virus feasting on the vulnerable parts of your brain.”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “No way that will happen.”
“I worried I wasn’t enough for you two. That I wouldn’t be able to be the person you need. I can’t go to functions or events and pretend everything is okay. Crowds are difficult, as is mingling with people. I don’t want to go to fancy dinners, galas, none of it. My home is where I want to be or a place where I can control my environment. I like knowing I’m safe. Or if a panic attack hits me, there’s no one to witness it. What if you decide I’m too much? That all this anxiety is a deal-breaker? What if you realize I’m not worth the effort? I like who I am. Yes, I’d love to not have panic attacks, but after years of therapy I’ve realized it’s an ever-present part of my life. I can’t change who I am.”
