"That motherfucker," I growl, raking a hand through my hair in frustration. I've always had my suspicions about him being shady, but not in this way. There are whispers he's ripping the network off with some dodgy financial dealings, but I had no inkling he was a sexual predator. "I am so sorry he's doing this to you."
"I did it to myself."
"You sure as hell didn't," I spit out, so sharply it makes Cabot look up at me, surprised. "This is not your fault. You did nothing wrong. It's all him. All of it. I need you to hear that."
His shoulders sway as he sucks in air, but eventually, he starts to nod. "You're right." His eyes find mine. "You're right," he says, sounding more like he believes it this time.
"Is he threatening you? Being intimidating? Doing anything to make you feel unsafe on or off set?"
Cabot shakes his head. "No. I steer clear of him. Today was the first day he wanted to see me one-on-one."
"I know you need the money, but are you okay with continuing filming? There are always other options, other shows you could go on."
"I think I'm okay," he says, exhaling. "Everyone else around here is great. Especially you."
The compliment lands like a feather gently floating down and landing on my heart. "Is there anything I can do?"
"You've done plenty. I feel so safe with you."
"Youaresafe with me," I say, silently pledging to exact revenge on Riff for what he's putting Cabot through.
"Can I—can I get a hug?" he asks, and I'm on my feet the second the words register in my brain.
"Of course."
He stands, eyes brimming with tears. I wrap my arms around him, the warmth of his body seeping into me. His hands find my hair as he clings to me.
After a minute, he pulls back. "Thank you."
"Of course."
And then he moves in, like he wants to kiss me.
I pull back.
He looks horrified then drops his head. "Shit, sorry."
"No. Don't be. It's not that I don't want to kiss you."
He glances up. "Then what is it?"
It's times like this Ireallyhate being so emotionally aware. "You've just shared something major, and you could be feeling vulnerable. I don't want to take advantage of you."
"You're not. I want this. I want…you."
I have to double-check. "Are you sure?"
He nods, and there's a shift in his demeanor, his energy lifting.
Going in for the third—and final—check before my composure snaps for good.
"Really?" I rasp.
He zigzags his index finger across the front of my onesie. "Really."
That's it. He insists he's okay, so who am I to doubt him?
I clutch him to me and hook my thumb under his chin, angling his face so my lips can land on his. When they do, the purr of contentment he releases shoots straight to my cock.
