Page 43 of Enzo
“Robbie—”
“I’m okay. I’m reading books.” If he came in, he’d see me like this—upset, shaken—and that would be one step backward. One step closer to Enzo seeing me as nothing more than fragile and needing protection. And I couldn’t have that. I needed him to see me as capable, as strong. So I forced my voice to steady, pushed the panic down, and pretended I was okay.
“Are you okay? I heard you scream! Do you need anything? “
“For everyone to leave me alone! I’m a grown fucking man, Enzo!” I shouted, the anger spilling over. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter!”
Silence. It was a heavy, suffocating beat stretching long enough that my stomach twisted.
Enzo’s voice softened, “I know you don’t, Robbie. I know.”
I crawled to the door, pressed my ear to it. The only thing separating us was a thin layer of metal and wood. My fists clenched to my chest, and my breathing was shallow.
Please come in and hug me, but I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t let myself need that.
Enzo was still standing there. I could feel his presence, steady, waiting. But then—footsteps. Fading. My chest tightened as the moment slipped through my fingers. The chance was gone.
I hadn’t appeared weak.
No. I’d appeared deranged.
I counted to a thousand, slowly, deliberately, pretending I’d be fine by the time I reached a thousand and exasperated that the only thing which could calm me was a hug from Enzo. I opened the door a little, saw Enzo sitting on a pile of tires, watching my door. I scrambled to him, sat on his lap and buried my face in his neck.
I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. “I know it’s dumb. But that man, he was looking at me as if he saw me from back then, but I don’t know him, and then, when he called me twink, I think it’s a trigger like the book says?—”
Enzo stiffened. “That asshole is a dangerous idiot, Robbie. If he comes back, you stay away from him, okay? You get in here and you lock the door, and you hit that alarm.”
“Yeah, sure, I mean…”
“I know you’re a grown man, okay, and I’m sorry if you feel I don’t treat you right… but it would kill all of us if something happened to you, so promise me.”
“I promise,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
His warmth and the solid weight of him under me melted something inside me. Slowly, I turned my head, resting my forehead to his shoulder, breathing him in. A mix of motor oil, soap, and something that was all Enzo. My lips brushed the curve of his neck, just a ghost of a touch, unintentional, but enough that I felt how he inhaled, sharp and sudden.
Neither of us moved for a second, caught in something fragile. Then, Enzo exhaled and held me a little tighter, and I felt safe.
Enzo was quiet, but then he sighed, “I get triggered by the sound of the gates shutting here. I have to make sure I can see it happening, otherwise…”
I blinked. “What?”
“Locks,” he repeated. “Hearing the gates slide shut. Sometimes, it just… it takes me back. And for a second, it’s like I’m there again. We all have things that make us want to run.”
I pulled back from his hold, and he released me enough to study his calm expression. But I didn’t want to move too far away—I wanted to stay close, to let myself sink into his safety. I wasn’t used to this kind of longing, this wanting that wasn’t tangled up in fear.
“You never make me want to run,” I admitted, tracing the strong lines of his face, memorizing them. I could get lost in his dark eyes, which brightened at my touch. His beard was bristly beneath my fingertips and his lips were soft and right there.
I wanted him to be the first person I kissed because I asked for it, not because it was taken. Becausethiswas mine. A moment I got to choose, a piece of myself I gave freely, not one that had been ripped away. And in choosing Enzo, I was taking back something I thought I’d never get to own—my voice, my desire, my right to want. I wanted Enzo to be the first in everything that would make me new. And how was it fair to dump this much on him?
“It’s not fair,” I blurted. “I can’t.” I thought to twist off his lap, but he held me, and I didn’t freak out, it felt good for him to care enough to hold me.
“Can’t what?” he murmured.
My throat worked, but no sound came at first. I glanced down, heart thudding so loud I was sure he could hear it. My fingers curled into his shirt, and the fear tangled with want in my gut. I wasn’t used to being allowed to ask for things like this.
“I… I want to kiss you,” I finally whispered, the words scraped raw from somewhere deep.
“I want you to kiss me.” He wriggled under me and I could feel he was so hard. “I want it all.”
