“Shit, Christian—what the hell?” It was a slurred mutter, but Dave was awake.
Relief crashed into him so hard his legs gave way. He barely managed to shift before he collapsed beside Dave, human again, but shaking like a leaf.
Dave’s eyes were clearing as he stared at Christian. “What—”
“What thehell?”Christian cut across him, his adrenaline dumping straight into aggression. “I thought—I thought you—” His voice failed him and he looked away, unable to say what he’d thought. That Dave had finally gone somewhere he couldn’t follow.
“Hey.” Dave’s hand was warm on his bare arm. “Christian, I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry.” It jerked out of Christian without conscious intention, and once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. “Whatever I did, I won’t do it again, I’ll take it back, change it.Fixit. Just don’t leave me.”
He squeezed his eyes closed because he didn’t know which was worse—the shame he felt at pleading like that, or the fear that Dave would just pat his arm kindly and tell him that there were no take-backs. That they were done. He tried to steady his breathing as he waited for the world to end.
Chapter Twenty-five
DAVE
It took every last bit of strength Dave possessed not to pull Christian close and reassure him that they were okay. He knew now that would just be pressing the reset button. If nothing changed, the same thing would happen over and over again. Christian would push and Dave would let him, but his resentment would grow until it boiled over, leaving himself raw and remorseful, and Christian hurt and confused.
Christian’s words had brought Dave face to face with the unpalatable truth—Christian didn’t know why he was upset.
Because Dave hadn’t told him.
Dave hadn’t told himanythingthat had been going on in his head. He’d longed for Christian to see it for himself, but he hadn’t given him anything to go off other than silence and strained smiles.
He needed to say this, but it terrified him. Making demands, making himself difficult to be around—it never ended well. But he knew he had to try. For both their sakes.
He tightened his hand on Christian’s arm, willing him to feel their connection.
“I never tell you whatIwant. I need to change that, I know I do.” He forced the words out, his throat tight, and then he paused, because the next bit? What he wanted more than anything? That was what would send Christian running from him. He drew in a breath that sobbed slightly, and made himself say it.
“I wish you’d think about me and try to work it out anyway. I don’twantto live here. But the thing that scares me most is that you don’t know that—or worse, you do, and you don’t care.”
Christian was rigid beneath his touch. It was only the certain knowledge Christian would never hurt him that gave Dave the courage to keep his hand wrapped around that thick bicep as he waited for Christian to push to his feet and walk away.
“You really think I don’t care?” Christian’s breathing was ragged, his voice hoarse.
“I don’t know, Christian—you’ve nevertoldme.”
And maybe that was unfair when Christian did the best he could, but Dave was sick of always being the reasonable one. The one doing the emotional labor.
Christian lowered his head, his hair curtaining his face from Dave’s gaze. “I love you.” His voice was deep and raw, and it sounded as if every word hurt him. “I love you like nothing else in this world, Dave Mitchell.”
Something in Dave curled up and died. This wasn’t the joyous declaration he’d hoped for all these years. It wasn’t even a declaration—it was a confession, wrenched from him in pain. Christian sounded like he’d been forced to name the very thing that might destroy him.
Dave couldn’t speak. This wasn’t how love was supposed to sound. But maybe for Christian, love had always come wrapped in pain. Maybe this was him trying, in the only language he had.
Christian’s head came up, and his gaze fixed on Dave’s. “I don’t know how to do this.” His voice was rough and broken, like the look in his eyes. “I don’t understand what you want from me, but whatever it is, you’ve got it. Justtellme.”
Dave’s throat was raw with the effort of staying quiet. Because he couldfeelit—that Christian was right on the edge of something. And he didn’t want to rescue him from it. Not this time.
Christian dropped his gaze, his fists curling in his lap.
“I saw you with someone else. And—I don’t know. Something in me just...” He shook his head, jaw working. “I thought you were done with me. Or that maybe you should be. That he’d be easier. Better. So I pushed. Said shit I didn’t mean, just to get it over with.”
His breath came short. “I didn’t think. I just—panicked, I guess. I didn’t believe it, not really, I just couldn’t stand waiting to be left.”
He looked up again, shame etched deep across every inch of his face. “I know I hurt you. And I hate that. Because you’re—” His voice wavered. “You’re the one person I never want to hurt.”
