Page 93 of Filthy and the Beast

“I’m going to get an early start on things,” he says.

I nod. “Sure. Okay.”

An hour later, I drive to Nat’s. Feel strange the whole way there. My chest is doing that thing Nat insists is only feelings. I can’t think about anything except Damian and how much I want to touch him again.

When I reach her gym at the back of the property, I throw the door open and plow in, my emotions boiling over. “He slept in my bedroom last night,” I declare to my surprised niece. “We had sex in my bed, and he was still there this morning.”

Nat’s wife Gwen steps out from behind the boxing ring, smiling. She’s in jeans and a casual white t-shirt, and her dark hair is freshly cut into her preferred short and choppy style. “Is that so?”

Ah, shit.

I like Gwen. She’s a great woman. Just wasn’t ready to share this particular news with an audience bigger than one.

“Uh, sorry.” I pull my heavy jacket off. “Hi, Gwen.”

Stepping next to her wife, she puts her arm around Nat’s waist. “Hi, Enzo,” she says, still grinning at me.

“How’s your research going?” I ask.

Nat laughs. “Really, Uncle En? After an announcement like that, you want to talk about her research now?”

I frown. Damn it. Nat enjoys giving me a hard time even on her own. When her wife is here, they act like a comedy routine.

“Why shouldn’t we discuss entanglement and superposition?” Gwen jokes. “Nothing steamier than quantum computing, that’s what I always say.”

Eyeing her wife, Nat nods. “You are racing toward that thousand qubit goal, right?”

“My team is optimizing control over each of the individual qubits.” Gwen points at me. “That’s what you wanted to talk about, right? The latest test results? Qubits?”

As they both laugh, I growl. “Okay. Enough fun?”

Nat winks. “For now.” She squats, grabs a weight, and hands it to me.

“What’s this?”

“An outlet for your anxiety while you tell us exactly how it came to be that you let someone in your bedroom.”

I pump the weight, flexing my bicep. Does feel good.

“Just happened,” I say. “But now everything feels different.”

“How do you mean?” Gwen's voice softens.

As I curl the barbell, my bicep burns. “This morning. Last night. Didn’t really know what it felt like to have someone in my bed like that. But now I do. I know what it’s like to have Damian in my bed, and I want him to stay there.”

Nat places her hand on her chest. “That’s surprisingly poetic, Uncle En.”

I grunt.

“Catch me up,” Gwen says. “I knew you were sleeping together, but this is something more? Is he still working for you?”

Remembering all the countless problems, I furrow my brow. “He quit his job at the bar. Now I really can’t fire him. I need to tell him that I’m his, if he wants me. He can be mine. And I’ll pay for his bills, whatever he needs. He won’t have to work for me anymore.” I grimace. “I just need to fight again. Make some money.”

“You’re not ready,” Nat says firmly. “You’re good. Really fucking good. But you’ve only been training with me. You’re not at the top of your game, so at least for now, you can get that idea out of your head.”

Frustration rises up. No other way to make the money I need fast, so my annoying brain latches onto the idea. “I’m still better than almost anyone. Just not better than you.”

“Instead of running to the boxing ring, you can tell him what’s going on,” Gwen says, as though that’s obvious and easy. “From what I’ve heard about Damian, he’s not looking for someone to save him. It sounds like you want to be his partner. Acting like that means that you face your problems together.”

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