He laughed, massaging my hand on his chest. “Wow. You just keep surprising me a lot, this morning.”

I shrugged. “I guess I'm just happy that we finally get to talk this peacefully without trying to piss one another off.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get what you're saying, though I'm not sure it's ready to be read by anyone just yet. I keep telling myself I'm going to figure out a way to edit and publish it, but I never do. It's just been in the back burner ever since, and I know it's not perfect but I'm very proud of it. I'm pretty sure an editor would have a hard time correcting those outrageous errors I made.”

“Well, you're in luck cause you've got a stepbrother who's great in English. I'd love to read it, and let you know if I catch any mistakes.”

He smiled softly, and my heart swelled. “Great. I'll think about it though.”

“Okay. Take all your time.”

When he turned to me again, his eyes were twinkling with mischief. I waited with bated breath, knowing I wouldn't like the next thing coming out of his mouth as he fluffed the pillow relaxed into it. “Tell me about your father.”

And, here we go again. I looked away now. “What do you want to know about him?”

“Everything.”

“It's a long story, Damien. Probably would bore you at some point.”

“Well we've got all morning.” He was staring at me so intently, and it made me mad that he wanted to know more about a psychopathic jerk.

I sighed as my mind wandered back into memory lane. “His name is Julius. He was once a good man, caring and funny actually. He was a journalist who wrote for The New York Times a lot. My mother met him while she was at a summer camp when she was eighteen. He was the lifeguard who saved her from drowning, and their romance sort of blossomed after that. They were married three months later, and I arrived the next year. It was such a love story that it breaks my heart that it all changed when he lost his job. He suddenly became a shadow of his past self, became reckless, made bad friends, gambled and was out most nights. 

“My mother tried all she could to help him heal but he always beat her up everytime he got home. What broke her heart was when she discovered that he had another family elsewhere and a son before me. She asked for a divorce but he refused and beat her up so bad that she almost miscarried my little sister. They were living in a large neighborhood, so most of the people living around knew what was happening and called the police who took my mom to the hospital and had my dad locked up. 

“For so many years he stayed behind bars while my mom got a new life for herself and us, then she met Flynn. They began dating over a year ago when my father was finally released after twenty years in jail. He came again, this time he wanted to kill my mother. But Flynn saved her and got him locked up for good.”

I was boiling with so much anger that I didn't notice when Damien placed a warm palm over my clenched fist. My nails were drawing blood but I didn't care. Until he pulled me into his chest and the fucking dam burst. I cried like I did when mom first narrated the story to me with Damien holding me together. There in his arms nothing else mattered. The bad memories retreated, as did my sobs. I never wanted to pull away because the feelings were overwhelming. 

“I'm so sorry you guys had to go through all that.” He whispered, running his fingers through my hair. “God, what's the deal with horrible fathers?”

“I hate him so much,” I sobbed. “Which sucks cause I still love him. He's still my father, no matter how shitty he's been.”

“I'm more than happy that you didn't turn out the same way he did. You're such a good person.”

I finally got my tears in check and smiled at him toothily. He was the one who kept surprising me that morning, and I didn't know what I did to deserve a glimpse into what Damien was like behind the tough act. Still, I couldn't expect it to last long. Damien was a surprise on his own.

“Thanks.” I reluctantly stopped my lingering stare from leaving his eyes. But I remembered his words a few nights ago and that made me turn away. He let go of me, and I felt his finger under my chin, tilting it up lightly as he brought my face back to meet his stare again. “Fuck...please don't stop looking at me.”

“What?”

“You looked away from me. You remembered that self-respect shit I told you about now. I'm sorry, that was the biggest lie I'd ever told you, and I regret it. I'd never let anyone past my guard but when it comes to you... I just can't explain it, and that made me nervous. I freaked out. I never had any issues with the way you look at me. The thing I've got a problem with is the way you make me feel when you look at me; emotions I can't explain, emotions I never thought I'd feel, emotions I can't allow myself to feel for you. At the same time, I almost lost my sanity when you took my words to heart and stopped looking at me, Timothy.”

“How do I make you feel whenever I look at you?” I asked.

“Like you hold me in high regard and I'm not allowed to let you down. I feel self-conscious and hyperaware of everything... it's not the same when any other person looks at me. I think you like me even though you're not supposed to.” I smiled in silent agreement as he continued. “You're always trying to figure me out, constantly.”

“Not an easy task if you ask me, Damien.”

“Sometimes it also feels like you want me to kiss you again, but you wouldn't be sure what to do if I did. That kiss...at the restaurant...it was the genesis of it all. My brain got so messed up that I just had to leave that vicinity immediately. It started as a joke, but it sure as hell felt real to me.”

My heart raced to know he'd felt what I did that day. “Are you in love with me?” I suddenly felt stupid for blurting that out. “I mean, you've always made it clear from day one that you don't play for the other team, Damien. You called me a ‘gay angel’ remember? I don't have boobs or butt and I'm definitely not as pretty as the girls you date.”

He chuckled at this. “A gay angel you definitely are.” He leaned in. “What makes you think I wasn't messing with you when I said all that shit? What makes you think I prefer those girls because I bring them home? Those girls... they're sexy and I'm definitely attracted...but they're also so damn easy. They don't challenge my charm and looks, they don't do anything for me. They're all just thirsty for my dick... desperate sex machines.” He wiggled his brows. “And I feel flattered because I'm really good at it.”

I laughed. “I think you've made that clear enough.”

The tension in the air thickened by the second. Nothing had ever turned me on like the look he had in his eyes at that very moment. One of desire... and longing.

His eyes trailed the length of my body from head to toe. “And just so you know, I prefer your body to theirs anytime, anyday actually. I don't care if you haven't got boobs and butt. That's not the reason I fell in love with you.”