Page 35 of Devil in Disguise

“Digger took her to a movie. She said you were exhausted and for me to let you sleep.”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. It felt so real, so vivid, that I could still feel the ghost of a touch on my skin.

“Danny, are you okay?” Dante’s concerned voice snapped me back to reality. I realized I was shaking.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, not wanting to admit the truth. “Just a weird dream, that’s all.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed, as if he could see right through me. “You sure? You were calling out my name.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. I couldn’t exactly tell him that I’d dreamed of him, of us, in a way that crossed lines I never thought I’d cross. “It was just a dream,” I mumbled, hoping he would drop it.

Dante stepped closer, his eyes searching mine.

“If you say so,” he said, his voice laced with doubt.

I turned away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “I’m gonna grab a drink,” I said, heading towards the kitchen. I needed a moment to collect myself, to process the torrent of emotions that were flooding me. As I poured myself a glass of water, I tried to make sense of it all. Why was I dreaming of Dante like that? It didn’t make any sense. We were just friends, nothing more. Or at least, that’s what he had told me. But now, everything felt confusing and uncertain. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself before returning to the living room.

Dante was sitting on the couch, and his eyes fixed on me as I entered. “You okay?” he asked again, his voice soft and gentle.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I didn’t know what to say or how to explain the turmoil inside me. As I stood there, unsure of what to do next, Dante stood up and closed the distance between us.

“Talk to me, Danny,” he said as his eyes filled with concern. “What’s going on?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Instead, I found myself reaching for him, my hands grasping his shoulders as if to anchor myself.

Dante’s gaze was intense, and I felt my defenses start to crumble. I took a shaky breath, my eyes dropping to his lips as I remembered the feel of them against mine in my dream.

“I...” I began, my voice hoarse and uncertain. “I had a dream,” I finally admitted, my words little more than a whisper. “About us.” I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes, afraid of what I might see there.

Disgust? Pity? Desire?

I had no idea what this confession would unleash.

“What... what kind of dream?” Dante asked, his voice careful, as if he were afraid of scaring me away.

I took a step back, needing the space to think, to process. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt a flush spread across my cheeks. “A... a kiss,” I stammered, feeling foolish even as I said it. “We kissed. And it felt...” I trailed off, unable to put into words the torrent of emotions that had overwhelmed me in my dream.

“And how did it feel, Danny?” Dante prompted, his eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed, my throat dry, my palms beginning to sweat.

“It felt... incredible,” I whispered, the words torn from me against my will. “It felt like I’d been missing out on something amazing my whole life.” I took another step back, needing to put distance between us, to escape the intensity of this conversation. “I don’t know what it means,” I added hastily, holding my hands up as if to ward off any further questions. “It was just a dream, that’s all. Right?”

Dante blinked, slowly shaking his head. “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t a dream. We’ve been together sexually before.”

“You said we were just friends!”

“We are. Still are.”

Shaking my head, I growled, “No! I’m not gay!”

“Danny, take a deep breath. Let me explain,” Dante said, reaching for me.

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