Page 39 of Santino (The Camboy Network #4)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

SANTINO

We stop by a chicken and rice stand on our way to the library because I haven’t really eaten anything in the past couple days—the joys of being a bottom, heh.

In the park next to the library, we find a bench and scarf down our lunch. The chicken is tender and the rice has more flavor than I thought rice could have. The white sauce is creamy and smooth and the hot sauce gives just the right amount of kick.

“Holy shit, this is good,” I say around mouthfuls of food.

Hayden’s chuckle is halting and short. “I thought you’d like it,” he says, kind of subdued.

I bump him lightly with my shoulder. “I mean, your food is better, but this is a close second.”

He smiles but there’s a hint of strain in it. I’m pretty sure it’s the depression, which doesn’t surprise me. It always hits right when Hayden’s having a good time and he was having a hella good time during our shoot.

I’d never seen him like that before—at least not in person. Like, genuinely happy and truly enjoying himself. Not distracted by whatever’s going on in his head. I’ve only seen that version of Hayden in the videos I found online.

When I first met him, I wondered whether that version was only a persona he put on for the camera. But now I know that’s the real Hayden. He’s still inside there somewhere—I just have to help him get back to who he really is.

It’ll take time, I’m sure. I can’t expect him to miraculously get better overnight because he’s seeing a therapist now. But I’m in no hurry. I can wait. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

The library doesn’t look like any library I’ve seen before.

The place is huge . It honestly looks more like a museum or a monument of some kind.

The front of the building is this ginormous, imposing wall of smooth stone that curves inward like it’s purposefully trying to intimidate you.

The main entrance has these massive black doors that reach almost to the top of the building.

Golden figures of animals and famous people I don’t recognize decorate the doors and also the two towering columns on either side.

Walking into the building feels like I’m walking into a temple of some sort, like a mammoth shrine to books. The inside is just as impressive. The lobby is like, three stories tall, with that hushed echoey vibe you only get with really important buildings.

Hayden actually looks kind of nervous as we head inside. I’m not sure why. Does he think I won’t like it? Or is he afraid he’ll feel differently about the place than he used to?

I mean, he doesn’t have to worry about me. The library is obviously important to Hayden, so it’s important to me too. I just hope he can still find the same joy in books and reading that he once did.

In the middle of the lobby, Hayden stops and lifts his head to look around as if this is his first time here. It’s kind of hard to read his expression. There’s some wonder in it and some nostalgia too. Like he’s trying to match up what he sees now with what he remembers.

After a moment, he takes a deep breath and as he lets it out, some of the tension he’s carrying melts away.

He turns toward me, a little sheepish. “Can I show you my favorite place?”

He has a favorite place in the library—god, he’s adorable. “Hell yeah, you can.”

Hayden takes my hand and leads me down hallways and up stairs. We turn left, then right, then left again and go through so many doors, I have absolutely no idea where we are.

Then suddenly we’re in this super quiet area with almost no one around. Huge windows look out over the park with small padded benches in front. Hayden sits down on one, peeking up at me through his blond lashes with a hesitant smile.

“This is it?” I ask, sitting down next to him.

“Yeah.” His voice goes up at the end like it’s a question.

I look around at the long bookshelves in front of us, filled with books. Then turn sideways on the bench so I can glance out the window. I can totally see Hayden curled up here for a few hours, getting lost in a book.

“I like it,” I declare, leaning back against the wall and settling in.

“You do?” Hayden sounds surprised and kind of amazed, like he was expecting me to hate it.

I nudge him with my foot. “Yeah, of course, I do. It’s really nice.”

He takes another look around, a small smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

We gaze into each other’s eyes. His are a bright green, shining with the light of the sun through the window. There’s a hint of uncertainty in them, like he’s teetering between a bunch of conflicting emotions and he doesn’t know which one to feel.

I take his hands and thread our fingers together so our palms touch.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, his grip tightening. “I love you.”

I blink, stunned by his unexpected declaration. He does? I mean, I know he does. At least, I was pretty sure he did. Except I thought I’d end up saying it first. I thought he might need more time to come around to the idea. But nope, he beat me to it.

When I don’t respond right away, Hayden rushes ahead.

“You don’t have to love me back,” he says, dropping his chin to his chest. “I totally get it if you don’t. I know I’m hard to love. And I’m so messed up. Why would you love me? Sorry. Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

“Whoa, babe.” I put one hand under his chin and lift his head to meet my gaze. I make sure he’s looking right into my eyes before I speak. “I love you too.”

He looks as stunned as I felt. “Really? You do?”

“Yeah.” A laugh bubbles up and bursts free. “Fuck yeah, I love you.”

I watch as moisture gathers in his eyes. He slaps a hand over his mouth as he gasps, trying to contain a sob.

“Babe, I love you so much.” I cup his cheeks and lean in so he fills my entire field of view. “I love all of you. All the nerdy, silly, sad, and broken parts. I love everything.”

He sniffles as tears escape down his cheeks. “But… why?”

“Why?” I laugh out loud. “Do I need a reason? I love you because… you’re you. And you were made for me. We were made for each other.”

He shakes his head, dropping his chin as his shoulders shake with a quiet sob. I pull him into a hug and he clings to me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not upset, I promise.”

I laugh again—or maybe I haven’t stopped laughing—and press a kiss to his temple. “You’re allowed to cry as much as you want, babe. I know you’re not upset.”

“But I don’t want to cry anymore. I’m so sick of crying.”

I rock him side to side, rubbing my hand up and down his back. “I know, babe. It’ll get better, I promise.”

He doesn’t cry for long this time and when he pulls away from me, he doesn’t look as miserable as he usually does after a cry session. Actually, he's kind of cute, with that like, half-joyful, half-sorrowful expression people get when they shed happy tears.

I wipe the wetness from his cheeks, then plant a fat kiss on his lips. He melts into me, his lips moving against mine.

“I love you,” I murmur against his mouth. I want to make sure he knows it without a single shred of doubt. I want him to know it in the deepest part of his soul. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeats back at me and my heart fills with so much joy I’m floating on clouds.

“You’re so good to me. Even when you didn’t know me, when you had no reason to be.

When things were the hardest and the darkness was at its worst, you were the only one there for me.

I was so lost, but you found me. I was dying, but you saved me. ”

The more Hayden speaks, the more tears spring to my own eyes. He makes me sound like some hero, but I’m not. I’m just a guy who cares. I saw him hurting and I couldn’t not help. I knew I could do something, so I did. Isn’t that what everyone should do?

“I was lost too,” I say, swiping at my eyes before the tears can fall. “I didn’t know what I was doing with my life when I came here. I took a chance and hoped for the best. And then here you were. Beautiful and perfect.”

Hayden scrunches up his face at that last word.

“Okay,” I chuckle. “Maybe not perfect, but you’re perfect for me.”

He looks a little skeptical, but that’s okay, I plan on spending a lifetime proving it to him.

Hayden shows me around the library some more, where the novels are, where the biographies are. We stroll through the bookshelves hand in hand, whispering quietly to each other. I can see why he likes this place. It’s peaceful and serene.

We stop by an ice cream shop on the way home and Hayden orders a honey pistachio scoop in a cup while I get a butterscotch scoop in a cone.

We sit on a bench in the park while we eat, watching the pedestrians walk past with their dogs and strollers and the picnickers lying out on the lush, green lawn.

Slowly, we make our way home, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun and the light breeze keeping the humidity at bay. I’ve never been happier in my life.

There’s a liveliness in Hayden’s eyes I’m not sure I’ve seen before. It’s like he’s soaking in the energy around him and letting it refuel his batteries. Like he’s here with me in the world rather than battling the demons inside his head.

We’re both pretty tired by the time we get home, but that good kind of tired when you know you’ve made the most of the day. We collapse onto the couch together, cuddling up close.

“What do you want for dinner?” Hayden asks.

I prop my chin on his chest and trace invisible patterns on his shoulder with my finger. “You’re always asking me that. What do you want for dinner?”

Hayden thinks for a moment. “I think I want ramen.”

“Ramen?” I ask. “Like going out for Japanese ramen?”

He shakes his head. “No, just the instant packaged stuff. I haven’t had that in ages.”

I laugh, dropping my forehead to his chest.

“What’s so funny?”

I give him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. “Babe, I can’t cook for shit, but that is one thing I know how to make.”