19. Camille

Chapter 19

Camille

I was knee-deep in Halloween decorations, the chateau living room resembling a cross between a haunted house and a party supply store gone rogue, when my phone pinged with a text. It was from Drew Nelson, my math tutor. He'd texted me before, and I'd been meaning to get back to him, but I'd forgotten. I responded and we threw out some dates we could meet.

Alright, looks like we're set for a while, he texted.

Thanks. Are you good?

Not really. Larry and I broke up.

I winced. Drew was gay and he’d told me his boyfriend had been growing impatient that Drew wasn't ready to acknowledge their relationship in public.

I’m sorry.

It’s my own fault. But I’m not giving up.

I figured that meant he was trying to gather the courage to come out, but I couldn’t help but think Larry didn’t deserve Drew if he was going to force the issue. Then again, there were two sides to every relationship, and Larry couldn’t help what he needed.

God, relationships were messy. Especially when there were more than two sides.

I sighed and got back to work on the decorations, only to pause twenty minutes later when I heard a knock on the door. I got up to answer. It was Dante. The sight of him, framed against the doorway, was so unexpected it took me a moment to register his presence.

I was about to ask him why he was suddenly gracing me with his presence, but my words quickly faded when I got a good look at him. Dante had been beaten, his face marked with fading bruises. I instantly thought back to when he’d intervened at Devil’s Engine, stepping in when a big biker had called me a cunt and was about to slap me. Dante had demolished the guy—then he’d had the shit beaten out of him by guys he called friends.

"What happened?"

"Just a minor disagreement," he said, but the tightness in his voice told me it was anything but. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." I led him to the couch, and he sat down. I kneeled beside him, my fingers gently tracing the contours of his face, assessing the damage. He winced but didn’t pull away from me.

"This was more than a disagreement. You really need to stop getting into fights,” I murmured. I hated seeing him like this. As if I hadn’t seen the men in my life go through enough as it was...

“That’s like telling a cat not to meow,” he said. “It’s in my nature.”

"Dante, I know you," I reminded him. "You’re a lethal fighter but not just for kicks, which means something serious happened. What?”

His eyes darkened for a moment. "There are things you don’t know about me, Peaches."

“Yeah, no kidding. Seems I only like guys hell-bent on keeping secrets from me.”

He scowled. “Don’t compare me to Kage. I would never hide another woman from you.”

“Really?” I said, thinking of the mysterious woman named Jane who’d called him more than once now. “Doesn’t matter. You’re hiding something .”

He remained stone-faced.

I shook my head. “Whatever. But I’m sure it’s not a great look for a faculty member to rock up to school with bruises all the time.”

Dante shrugged. “I’m a counselor. I’m supposed to be relatable to the kids.”

“Is that what I am to you? A kid?”

“You know you’re so much more than that.”

Now it was me who didn’t reply.

Dante sighed. “The secrets I keep…there’s a lot in my life I’ve done I’m not proud of. When I was a different man. A man I don’t want you to know. Because you are everything to me.”

I didn’t know what to tell him because I couldn’t find the right words. Deep down, I was scared that, while I was enough for him right now, eventually I wouldn’t be. Apparently, he'd overcome whatever jealousy he'd felt at me being with Kage, at least enough to come see me. But one day, he was going to leave me for good, and I wasn’t sure how I would handle that. He’d want someone he could have for himself, not someone he had to share.

“Camille? Talk to me,” Dante urged.

“Kage and I…”

“I know,” he said.

“It bothers you.”

“It… bothered me. I couldn’t help being jealous. But I worked through it. I meant what I said about wanting to give you the world.”

"And I meant it when I said it wasn’t fair for me to ask to share me when I’ll never want to share you. It makes me a hypocrite.”

"It makes you mine. And you're enough for me."

“How can I be enough for you when you think of me as a kid?"

“You’re younger than me but that doesn’t mean you’re a kid. It’s about how you carry yourself. The shit you’ve seen. And you’ve seen a lot. The only way this ends between us is when you walk away from me," he continued, his eyes blazing into mine.

“When?”

His jaw clenched. “Kage and Ty? Me? We all have baggage. It would be smart for you to enjoy us for a while before moving on to better prospects.”

“Better meaning what?”

“A lack of criminality would be a good start,” he huffed.

“Sounds boring.”

“Maybe. But I just want you to know. I’m yours for as long as you want me. When you decide to walk, Peaches, I’m not going to stop you.”

“You want me to leave you?” I whispered. Was this how he went into all his relationships? Assuming that the person was going to just walk away the first chance they got?

“I want you to live your life to the fullest. I’m not sure you can do that with me or the others,” Dante said.

“What if I don’t want to end us—you and me?” I demanded.

“You’re still so young. You have so much life to live. The last thing I want to do is hold you back. Before you say you want me forever, you should discover all my bad habits first.”

He was trying to ease the tension in the air. Distract me. As exhausted as I was, I decided to let him. “Oh, you think these bad habits are deal breakers?” I said lightly.

I walked over to the fridge and grabbed two sodas, handing him one. “Let me guess. You leave the toilet seat up? Squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube? Oh wait, I already know about those ones.”

“Harsh,” Dante said with a grimace. “Since we’re on the subject, how about we talk about you, Ms. ‘I think a cup of coffee is a well-balanced breakfast’.”

“I must be a catch if that’s the best you can come up with.”

“Oh, there’s more. I’m just too much of a gentleman to say it to your face,” he replied. “But I mean, really, who doesn’t take the time to pair their socks?”

“Odd socks are cute,” I defended myself, sticking my feet up in the air as proof.

“Sure, if you’re eight years old and wear pigtails,” Dante chuckled.

“Well, like you can talk,” I fired back. “Who the heck color coordinates their underwear?”

He chuckled. But then, his expression shifted slightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Have you talked to Bianca?”

I nodded. “We met up yesterday. It’s not completely the same between us, but it’s getting there.”

“Good. You have a lot to work out.”

I chewed my lip then sighed. "You can say that again..." I thought about the fact that Bianca and I weren't the only ones that had things to work out. When it came to me and Dante and his vow that I was enough for him... I swallowed hard and decided to take the chance that he wasn’t going to bite my head off for asking what I was about to ask. "Since we were talking about bad habits before… Can you tell me about Jane?”

Dante stiffened and I waited for him to storm off. Instead, he sighed and motioned for me to come to him. I did, and he wrapped me in his arms, resting his head against mine. “Jane is my best friend’s mom. She’s had it tough. She’s an addict. She lost her daughter to addiction.”

“You pretty much implied you’d slept with her…”

“I did. We were drunk and it was a mistake. One I haven’t told my friend about.”

“Why haven’t you?” To my surprise, even though I still hated the thought of him with someone else, I didn’t feel threatened anymore--it was obvious from the way he talked about her that he had no intention of picking up where they had left off.

“It’s complicated.”

I took his hand in mine. "Dante, you're an amazing person. You should have faith that someone who really cares about you knows that. We all have our baggage, our mistakes. But it's not the mistakes that define us; it's how we move forward, how we make amends and grow from them. You've done so much for others, Dante. Don't forget that."

He smiled. “Wow, you sound like you could have written a passage in one of my philosophy books. You're whip smart, Peaches. And thank you, for believing in me the way you do."

"You make it easy, Dante."