Page 42 of Necessary Space

“So.” I righted myself and raised a brow. “Tell me about him.”

“Rome was closer to your age than mine, not even thirty.”

“So you do like them young, even if it never works out,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes and pulled another dumpling onto his plate. “We were together for two years, and we were very much in love. Rather, we were in love with the idea of each other. I don’t know.”

Two years wasn’t an unsubstantial amount of time, but Hendrix didn’t look like he was still hung up over Rome. If anything, he looked resigned, like he’d psychoanalyzed himself to death already about the whole thing. And then done it again for good measure.

“No.” He shook his head, correcting himself. “We were in love. I loved him. I just…we didn’t know all of each other. It was easy to hide the shit.”

“Were you and he like…” I gestured between us.

“Yeah. And Rome was great at it. Great at me, until he wasn’t. I don’t fault him for any of it. He was a good man and a good Dom, just not either of those things for me anymore.” Hendrix shrugged like it was nothing. “Our breakup was amicable enough and I moved a month later.”

“It’s fresh.”

“Like I said, things had been rocky for a while. I’m not carrying a torch for him still, if that’s what you’re asking.” He forked the dumpling in half, taking a more manageable bite than he had the first time and rinsing it down with some more wine.

“I told you I don’t care if you are. I’ll fuck you until it burns out.”

“Are you...” He twisted his mouth, expression shifting into a deep and confused expression.

“Am I what?”

“Are you always like this?”

I laughed, finishing off my first glass of wine and pouring another. “Do you remember how I told you that I always get what I want?”

“That was about you falling in love with me,” he reminded.

“It was about everything. And, yes, I am always like this. I am not a jealous man. I am a confident man.” I patted my chest, desperate to use his name so he would understand the severity of my words, but not willing to cross that bridge again. “Everything I have, I’ve worked for. I’ve earned. And whatever this thing between you and me turns into won’t be an exception.”

“It’s the rule.”

“One of them.” I sipped my wine. “Finish that glass and I’ll top you off.

Without argument, Hendrix did, and I refilled his glass. The bottle was half empty and the dumplings were gone. Our water sat untouched, ice condensating around the textured curves of the tumbler glasses.

“Let’s talk about what happened in the car on the way over here,” I suggested. Hendrix’s shoulder sagged, and he leaned against the arm of his chair.

“Okay.”

“It was out of bounds from our agreement, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You asked if it was okay and I said yes.”

I heard what he was saying, but the words didn’t settle in my head, I wasn’t sure I believed him.

“You don’t believe me,” he said, interrupting my mental digression.

“I worry,” I said.

“I know you saw my erection in the car,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “It’s clear I liked it.”

“It’s clear you had a physical reaction to something you like in the bedroom happening out of the bedroom.”

“I liked it,” he said again, voice louder, words more enunciated. “It felt like an okay middle ground that I wouldn’t hate to explore.”