Page 10 of Rock Bottom

Easy, Dante. You don’t even know if he’s into men. I finished shaving and splashed cold water on my face. It didn’t do a damn thing to settle down the steel rod my dick had turned into. Jacking off was going to get tricky since my bedroom didn’t have a door, and Mr. Protecto-bot insisted on doing frequent visual checks for my well-being. We needed to have a talk about boundaries.

Or maybe we didn’t. It might not be so bad if he caught me in the act. At least then I’d know if he was into dick or not.

God, please let him be some flavor of queer like me, I thought and finished toweling off.

There was this nagging thought in the back of my head that I should lay off and not make a move, even if it was all in good fun. What if I kept hitting on him and he turned out to be a homophobe? Then at least I’d know, right?

A knock on the door made me jump, but it was only Church with one of his stupid fifteen-minute checks. “All good, Mr. Deluca?”

“God dammit, I told you it’s Dante!” I yanked open the door. “Dante, Dante, Dante!”

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. His eyes widened before he rapidly turned his head away, a swath of bright pink spreading over his nose and cheeks.

Oh my God. Was he blushing? Could he get any more irresistible?

Church cleared his throat. “You seem to have forgotten your pants, Dante.”

“I didn’t forget them.” I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist, more for him than me. I grew up with five brothers in a two bed, one bath house in west L.A. and then lived on a tour bus for part of the year. Nudity was not something I’d ever be embarrassed about, especially my own. I looked good. Why should I be embarrassed about a smoking hot body?

But Church—grumpy, proper Church—must’ve been raised differently.

“You don’t need to check on me every fifteen minutes!” I slid past him toward the stairs. Dammit, I’d left my change of clothes upstairs.

“And you shouldn’t go streaking through the house,” he admonished, more seriously. “Is this how you behave elsewhere? What if some reporter sees you? Do you want your nude pictures all over the internet?”

I stopped at the bottom stair with a sigh and turned around. “You’re either dense as a brick or living under a rock, dude. My nudes are all over the internet. I’m the one who leaked them a year ago. And I don’t care.”

He looked horrified. “How can you not care?”

“I’m a celebrity, man. Nude leaks happen to everyone.” I ran my fingers through my damp hair and looked away. “But if you really want to know, some dickhead tried to blackmail me when After Atom first went big. The lawyers wanted me to write a check, but screw that. No scandal if I leaked the photos myself, and he couldn’t hold it over me anymore.”

“Don’t you have any shame?”

I grunted. “Why? What good does shame do?” I pounded a fist against my chest. “I am who I am, baby. Take it or leave it.” I turned to go.

Church’s hand closed around mine. I turned around, staring down at my regular sized hand engulfed in his giant fingers. The sight made me want to melt.

“This blackmailer,” Church started, “is he still an issue?”

I shrugged. “I’m not even allowed to read my own fan mail anymore, so how would I know?”

His frown deepened. “That must be difficult.”

Was that empathy? From Church? Maybe there was a human under all those gorgeous muscles after all. “You have guarded celebrities before, right?”

He stood up straighter. “I’ve guarded everyone from diplomats to housewives. You’re not the first famous person under my care.”

Under my care. I liked that phrase, maybe a little too much. I cleared my throat. “Well, were you this dedicated to their safety, or is this just something special you’re doing for me? Because as often as you’re checking in, it’s getting a little overwhelming. And I bet it’s exhausting for you. I get you want to be vigilant, but dude… We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. Where am I gonna go?”

“The woods?”

“I was yanking your chain earlier, man. You were right. I wouldn’t last an hour out there, okay? I’m not going to run. Dealing with my shit is hard enough without you up my ass every fifteen minutes. So back off a little, huh?”

“I can go to hourly checks if that’d make you more comfortable,” he offered.

I would’ve preferred he hung around just out of sight like Orlando used to, but Church wasn’t Orlando. It was less than ideal, but I’d live with it. “Yeah, okay. I guess. Just…don’t bother me while I’m in my room, okay? Give me that much space, would you?”

“Of course, Mr. De…I mean, Dante.”

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