Page 84 of Off Balance

He shrugs. "Just be glad I specify no starch on any of my laundry." Which would be dumb, considering that, like me, he basically lives in athletic clothes. But the thought of someone getting stiff underwear back from the laundry service is pretty hilarious.

Once I've pulled on the underwear and dance shorts and tie off the t-shirt at the waist, I wait patiently for Dom to finish getting dressed. He's wearing a nice pair of dark jeans and a snug blackt-shirt that shows off every muscular curve of his chest and biceps. I take a slow deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, attempting to not be obvious about it.

"Don't like it?"

"That is definitely not the issue here. The issue is going to be whether I'm going to need to borrow a baseball bat from Dwayne to keep all the other twinks and girly types away from you."

He chuckles as he bends to pull a pair of black boots on, and I realize that I might have hit a sore spot. Dwayne still isn't really talking to him. He hasn't even answered Dom's texts about their flight plans.

"For the record, I'd let you hold me down with one of those boots and do disgusting, degrading things to me." My eyes twinkle as all sorts of images flash through my imagination, of Dom standing above me with one booted foot on my chest while he covers my face in cum. "Fuck," I say, shaking from head to toe to dislodge those thoughts. "We need to go now, or we won't make it out of the apartment. We'll run out of food, and you won't be able to fatten me up like I know you've been trying to."

I wink to let him know that it's just a joke, and that I'm fine with the way he's been encouraging me to eat. It was hard to explain that I don't have body image issues, but that Emile had gotten in my head and that the issues with wardrobe had only made it worse. Getting started eating normally again isn't an overnight process though, and I've been slowly working up to more manageable meals over the last couple of days. Dom's been patient, even with the constant texts from my mother to check in on me, since I left my phone in my dressing room when everything went down. We still need to make a plan to go get my personal belongings, and I want to check in on Daphne,but for now, we're lying low. Emile could learn about the formal investigation into the allegations against him any day now, and it wouldn't be smart to be anywhere near him when it happens.

"Alright, let's go." It takes everything in me not to press myself against him so I can feel and hear the rumbly sound of his chuckle as he shoos me out of the apartment.

Dom stays in the car while I run around the back of the house and enter my basement apartment. After standing in my closet for several minutes to decide what to wear, I choose a pair of light grey skinny jeans and an almost see-through white button-down shirt. I turn my hair straightener on while I'm packing and quickly make a pile of things on my bed—clothes, skin and haircare products, a couple pairs of shoes since all I have are soft dance flats. Biting my lip, I open the drawer I keep some of my sexier playthings in and end up emptying most of it onto the pile. I end up packing an entire suitcase that thankfully has rollers because it's heavy as hell. After quickly taming my hair, which has been frizzy while I've done nothing but laze around the apartment with Dom, I add just a touch of cream blush to the apples of my cheeks and some lip gloss. Nothing much, just enough to accentuate what's already there.

It's not until I've walked all the way back to the front of the house that I think better of the makeup and try to backtrack. Dom is standing on the sidewalk that leads up to the house, talking to Dwayne about the photoshoot. Dwayne actually cracks a smile as something Dom says about Antoni, but I don’t hear what it is. I’m too busy trying to back away, but Dom sees me. His eyes light up, and he whistles, seeming to forget that he was talking to Dwayne. When he walks over and takes the suitcase from me, he doesn’t even mention the size of the luggage. He just bends forward and whispers in my ear.

"You look fucking edible."

"It's not too much?" I don't want to say out loud that Emile hated when I "dressed like a twink" or wore make up "like a cheap slut." Jesus, I can so clearly see just how terrible he was now that I'm standing on the outside. I only ever made excuses for him and changed myself to avoid constantly being berated. I don't have to do that with Dom. It wasn't even a thought when I was getting ready. It was only my own second guessing and remembering Emile's cruel words that made me question myself.

"You're never too much, Cam. You're exactly enough."

"You know exactly what to say to get my panties wet." I joke lest I get too emotional.Where the fuck has this man been all my life?

Dwayne clears his throat awkwardly, and my cheeks heat.

"How're you doing?" he asks sincerely. "He's, uh… taking care of you?"

"I can take care of myself," I remind him. "But yes, he's takingverygood care of me." My eyes water with the force of my blush, because that could be taken a lot of different ways, and all of them are accurate.

Dwayne looks like he's either going to laugh or be sick. It could go either way at this point. I'm not sure if it'll soothe the awkwardness or make it worse, because it isn't something that's normal for us, exactly, but I run over and give him a hug while Dom takes my luggage back to his SUV.

"It's all okay, papa bear," I say, echoing something I overheard my mother say to him while I was in the hospital. It's occurring to me for the first time that Dwayne thinks of me as his son. He'snot upset that I'm some reckless little slut chasing his brother. He's upset because he's worried about me. About us both.

"You take care of him, too," Dwayne says. "Don't let that hot head make an ass of himself."

"I'll do my best."

"Go have fun."

Dom takes me to a Korean barbecue restaurant where we order our weight in different meats and veggies and cook them over a grill. We're sat at a massive booth that would fit eight people easily, or maybe six if they're all the size of Dom. I assumed he would sit on the opposite side of the booth and try to play it cool, but he immediately slides in after me. We spend the entire dinner with me practically in his lap, laughing and feeding each other. The waiter even offers to take our picture and Dom hands over his phone, first smiling, and then even pulling me in for a kiss while the camera clicks away.

"You never cease to surprise me, Domenick Connor."

"I hope that's a good thing, Cameron Rae Stevens."

"A very, very good thing," I say, my voice dropping. Dom feeds me another bite of bulgogi, then wipes sauce away from my bottom lip, sucking it from his thumb. "You're playing a dangerous game, Daddy," I tease.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. You should probably count yourself lucky that I'm a respectable young man."

"Mmhmm. So lucky."

We flirt and tease and feed each other until I'm so stuffed I'm sure I'll need to be rolled out of here.

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