Page 36 of Santino (The Camboy Network #4)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

HAYDEN

I went to my second appointment with Dr. Tina yesterday and I only cried for about half the time I was in her office. I count that as a win.

Santino went with me again, but then, we’re never really apart anymore.

We sleep together, eat together, and shower together on most days.

Santino managed to drag me out to the park for an afternoon.

And we went grocery shopping so I could make him fish tacos and guacamole.

But other than that, we’ve spent a lot of time in the apartment, cocooned in blankets on the bed or on the couch.

We take turns reading to each other. Sometimes we play video games.

We’ve generally been taking it pretty easy. I don’t have the energy for much more.

I kind of feel bad about it. Santino should be out enjoying the summer and exploring the city, not stuck inside with me every day.

Bellamy’s offered to show him around a few times, but he keeps saying no.

I get a little rush of relief whenever he does.

Because I’m selfish and needy and I want him to stay with me for snuggles and naps. I’m a horrible person.

At least, that’s what the voice has been telling me nonstop for days. I’m taking advantage of Santino. I’m hogging all his time and attention. If I really loved him, I’d let him go live his life rather than drag him deeper into my mess.

The thing is, wrapping myself around Santino and getting lost in him is the only way to make the voice shut up. So I feel bad for wanting Santino to stay home with me—but I don’t feel that bad.

To be honest, I can’t remember what life looked like before he moved in anymore.

I can’t imagine waking up without him next to me, or not being able to reach out and touch him, or not having the warm scent of cinnamon in my nose.

Being apart from him for even a few minutes feels like too much sometimes.

Rhys stopped by one day to check in on me and when Santino went to the bathroom, Rhys jokingly asked why I didn’t go in with him.

Except, I don’t think he was really joking.

He said something about not becoming too dependent on Santino and getting too attached, but I’m way past worrying about that now.

It’s too late. I’m already dependent on him. I’m already attached.

And now, we’re shooting our second scene.

Sebastian wanted to put it off for another week or two to give me more time to settle into therapy.

As if a couple more sessions with Dr. Tina is going to cure me of this depression.

I mean, that’d be fan-fucking-tastic if it does, but I’m getting the sense this will be a very drawn-out process.

And I don’t want to hold the schedule back any more than I already have.

So we’re at this penthouse apartment Noel found for us that has a private outdoor terrace with a pool and a hot tub.

In between the lounge chairs are plants and trees that provide a bit of privacy from the surrounding buildings and there’s a fully stocked bar at the far end.

It feels like we’re at some tropical resort rather than in the middle of New York City.

But the most exciting part about being here is Santino’s reaction when we first walked in.

He looked like he'd just walked into a buffet with all his favorite foods. His jaw hit the ground and his eyes went as big as saucers. Every room was cooler than the last. The terrace was the coolest out of everything. He couldn’t wait to strip down and jump in the water.

And now he’s practically bouncing off the walls as we wait for Sebastian and Christian to finish setting up.

I’m sitting on a couch, watching Santino examine every single thing in the room—the picture frame on the wall, the coasters on the coffee table, the cast iron pokers next to the fireplace, the vase of fake flowers on the mantel.

He can’t sit still and I would probably find it adorable if I wasn’t trying to fight off the empty ache in my chest.

I know it’s not real, as in there’s nothing physically wrong with me. There isn’t some alien clawing at my insides trying to escape from my body. It’s just the depression—my brain registering phantom signals my body hasn’t sent.

It’s fine. I’m okay. Everything’s going to be alright.

You keep saying that, but…

Santino plops down on the couch next to me and immediately leans against my side. “This place is sooo cool,” he says for maybe the eightieth time.

“Yeah, it is.” I curl myself toward him, seeking the comfort of his weight, his warmth.

Santino turns his head, takes one glance at me, and lifts his arm so he can rest it across my shoulders. He plants a kiss on my temple. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess.”

We both know I’m lying.

“You’re sure you want to do this today, babe? We can still cancel it, you know. I don’t care what Sebastian says. You come first.” Santino’s voice has a hint of defensiveness, like he’s ready to fight anyone forcing me into something I don’t want to do—including if that someone was me.

But I shake my head. I don’t want to cancel. I’d just have to do this some other day and there’s no guarantee things will be any better then. I might not be great right now. But I could be so much worse.

“No, I don’t want to cancel. I want to do this.”

“Positive?” Santino’s brow is furrowed in mock sternness.

“Yeah, positive.” I sigh as Santino tugs me a little closer to him and I melt into his body. The ache in my chest eases enough for me to take a few deep breaths. Everything’s always better when I’m in Santino’s arms.

“We’re ready for you guys!” Sebastian calls through the sliding glass doors.

Santino jumps to his feet and we hold hands as he leads us out to the terrace. The sun is bright and the sky is blue without a single cloud in sight. A decent breeze blows across the terrace, cooling the hot, summer air.

As Sebastian walks us through the scene, Christian quietly taps me on the arm.

“Do you need…?” he gives me a meaningful look.

I gulp as embarrassment heats my stomach and I shake my head discreetly. “I already took one.”

Christian nods and gratitude fills me at his simple question and simple acceptance. Like my dick not working isn’t a big deal. Like it might be normal.

Sebastian finishes showing us where he wants me and Santino positioned and where he’ll be with the camera. Then it’s time to start.

We head back inside so Sebastian can film us coming out. I’m first, shrugging out of the bathrobe I’m wearing and tossing it across a lounge chair. Underneath, I’ve got on a Speedo that’s a size—or two—too small. It’s barely covering my dick and definitely riding up my ass crack.

I pretend to stretch as Sebastian moves around me with his camera. When he gives me the signal, I jump into the pool, making sure I do that head toss thing when I surface. Water sprays in an arc over my head, catching the sunlight and casting rainbows everywhere.

It looks really cool. The water is super refreshing. And despite the darkness doing its best to sink its claws into me, I can feel its grasp slipping. I’m going to be okay. Everything’s going to be fine.

I push off the wall and swim a few laps back and forth.

It’s weird. Sometimes, when the darkness has me in its grip, it feels like I’m underwater—I can’t breathe, everything’s dull and muted, I’m sluggish when I try to move. But now that I’m actually in water, it feels nothing like that.

It feels nice moving my arms and legs in a way I’m not used to.

They slice through the water quickly and easily.

I can hear the sound of my steady heartbeat, the rhythm of my breaths, the splashes I make when I swim.

The swirling blue patterns on the bottom of the pool are clear and bright, and I can feel the warmth of the sun on my back.

My hand touches the wall and I reemerge to find Santino crouched down on the deck in front of me. He’s also wearing nothing but a too-small Speedo. Sebastian’s off to the side with his camera pointed at us. Christian’s behind me in the water with a GoPro.

I smile up at Santino, squinting a bit at the sun in my eyes. “Hey.”

He smiles back and it honestly feels like joy exploding inside me, chasing away every dark and evil thing.

Love spreads through my body, finding all the cracks and crevices and filling them up.

I love him. For all the things he’s done for me.

For the way he makes me feel. For just being who he is—patient, selfless, devoted, caring.

“How’s the water?” Santino asks.

“Come in and find out.” I lift a hand and flick some water at him.

He flinches and jerks away for a moment and when he turns back, he’s got a mischievous, playful look in his eyes. He stands and takes a couple steps backward. Then runs and cannonballs into the pool.

I get a face full of water as it sprays everywhere. Waves slosh over the sides of the pool. I’ve just managed to wipe the water from my eyes when Santino splashes me again. He laughs while swimming away and I give chase.

We play, squirting water from between our palms, kicking water in each other’s faces.

Eventually, we graduate to wrestling, dragging and pushing each other under the surface.

It doesn’t feel like we’re shooting a video.

I kind of forget Sebastian and Christian have cameras trained on us.

It feels like we’re hanging out at the pool. It feels like we’re having fun.

When we’re both breathless and tired from swimming and treading water and attacking each other, we end up in the shallow end. Santino latches onto me—legs around my waist, arms around my neck. I hold him close, loving the heat of his body against the coolness of the water.

He brushes my hair off my face, wipes the water drops from my skin. The sunshine makes his eyes look more golden than brown and there’s a tenderness in his smile that makes my heart skip a beat. He’s so beautiful—on the outside and the inside. His soul is so good and precious and pure.

You don’t deserve him. How dare you think you’re good enough for him.

No. I’m not going there. I’m not giving the voice any room in my head for its lies. Deserving has nothing to do with anything. Santino chose to be here. He chose to stay. He can leave whenever he wants and I need to trust he knows how to make decisions for himself.

He draws the tip of one finger down between my eyes, along the bridge of my nose. Then he gives me a cute little boop. I catch the finger with my lips, sucking it into my mouth.

Santino gasps as I swirl my tongue around the tip of his finger and I can feel his dick growing where it’s pressed against my stomach. I scrape my teeth lightly over the pad of the finger and he lets out a small whimper.

Santino tugs on his hand and I release him.

He grasps me by the chin to hold me in place as he leans in for a kiss.

It’s hot and hungry, like we’re two starved men presented with a gourmet spread.

His tongue lashes against mine. Our teeth clash together.

He bites down on my bottom lip hard enough to send shivers through my body.

I glide us through the water as Santino slides his fingers through my hair. He grabs a fistful and pulls my head back so he can lick and kiss at my jaw, my neck, my collarbone.

“Stairs!” Sebastian calls out and I reach backward to catch us before we crash.

I sit on a step, Santino in my lap, and lean back. Water laps around my hips as Santino licks and kisses across my chest. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, nibbling on the tender flesh, flicking it with his tongue.

Pleasure winds through me, touching every part of my tired and broken body. It breathes new life into me, like a promise of better days ahead. My groin tightens and my cock starts to fill, straining against the tight fabric of the Speedo.

Santino finishes with one nipple, then switches to the other. The first pebbles hard when exposed to the air again and the gentle wind feels biting against my sensitive skin.

I watch with half-lidded eyes as Santino feasts on my body. Once in a while, he’ll cast a heated look up at me and every time he does, my heart swells a little more in my chest. He’s so beautiful, it takes my breath away. I love him so much, it scares me.

I’ve been hesitant about telling him because I don’t really trust myself.

I mean, I know I love him. But there’s still this tiny niggling doubt that makes me pause.

What if I only think I love him because he’s been so kind to me?

What if the depression has tricked me into it somehow?

I haven’t wanted to say anything until I’m sure.

Like sure sure. But I don’t know when that day will come—if it will ever come—and I don’t want to wait any more.

I want to tell him and I want to know if he loves me back.