“Well, maybe they need to, so they get those sticks out of their asses.”
I snort and take a bite of the cookie. It’s soft and sweet. “Fuck, these are good.”
“They are. My brother actually bakes them. I think I’m going to have him start making more. Sell them to people in need.”
“In need?” I ask, shoving the rest into my mouth and reaching for another.
“Yeah, like bachelorette parties. Shit like that. Luca’s been marketing them at different expos, and they always do really well.”
“Do you sell these anywhere else?” I ask as I pick another one up and stare down at the pink frosting with the white tip. Cum.
It makes me think of Rathyn.
“Luca bakes for the coffee shop—the one that Vyastil couple owns. All his shit is really good.”
I finish the rest. “Why doesn’t he do a bakery thing on his own?”
Dante shrugs. “He’s Deaf—I told you that, right?” I have a vague memory of that, and I nod. “Dealing with the public for him kind of sucks. There’s no real Deaf community here, and hardly anyone signs besides my family. I think he likes being in someone else’s kitchen.”
“That makes sense. But they’re amazing, so I hope this whole thing takes off. Maybe an online bakery,” I muse.
Dante’s eyes sparkle. “Actually, that’s an amazing idea. I just need to figure out how to make that happen.”
“You’ll find a way. We all find a way eventually,” I say as I lean back in my chair and stroke the white frosting, my mind shifting to Rathyn.
Where is he? What’s he doing?
Does he miss me?
Does he regret any of it?
I don’t know if he does, but I sure as fuck do.
“Everest.”
It still stings when he calls me that. Simple. Too careful. Rolling onto my side, I try to ignore him. After leaving Dante’s, I headed to The Foundry. I let him suck me off several times before telling him I was sleeping at Zane’s. He didn’t put up a fight. Which was somehow worse than him trying to control me.
But here I am, in my old bedroom, surrounded by what was left of my old life before I stumbled into the clinic and everything turned upside down.
“Please.”
I curl up into a tighter ball, trying to shield myself against the pain of hearing him say the word please. Before this, he would have told me that Vyastil never beg.
“I do not understand what changed.”
“Are you serious?”I sit up, my expression incredulous, though he can’t see it. There’s a spot on the wall where a poster used to be. Now it’s a bright spot where the paper shielded the paint from being faded by the sun. I don’t even remember what used to be there.
My heart hurts.
“I am serious. I don’t understand what changed.”
“You changed,” I say aloud, knowing he can hear me. “You made me feel like I mattered, and then suddenly I didn’t. Suddenly, I was nothing more than your personal cum bank.”
“You know this is not true. You are mine. Your body. Your cum. Your mind.”
“My heart?”
“I have no need for a heart. I have need for you.”
