Author: Alexa Land
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alexa-land/page,5,529414-all_in.html
“That’s not an option, sir.”
“I’m sorry?”
A second big burly guy appeared beside the first and asked, “Do we have a problem here?”
“The kid wants us to take the stuff back,” Burly Guy Number One told him.
“That’s not an option,” Burly Guy Number Two said.
I rolled my eyes at that. “So if I close and lock this door, what do you think you’re going to do? Knock it down and force me to take whatever over the top thing Dombruso decided to send me? What is it, anyway?”
The guy with the clipboard flipped to a second sheet of paper and recited, “California King mattress, box spring and bed frame. Dining table. Two chairs. Bedroom set. Two boxes of miscellaneous items.”
I stared at the two men outside my door. And once I’d scraped my jaw up off the floor, I pulled the cell phone from my pocket and typed Seriously? and hit send.
A few seconds later, Dante replied, Just take the gifts, Charlie.
I wrote, The kitchen items were already too much. This is way, way, way too much!
I want you to have these things, Charlie. Please don’t argue.
I don’t feel right about accepting them.
Please, Charlie. Take the gifts. For me.
That weakened my resolve. I don’t feel comfortable with this, Dante.
I know, angel. But this means a lot to me. I want to do this for you. Please let me.
If he had insisted I take them, I would have refused. But this gentle approach wore me down. I chewed my lip for a while, then sighed and stepped aside for the deliverymen, and told them, “Ok.”
I went into the kitchen to get out of their way, and sat on the counter. I started composing a message to Dante about how, though I appreciated the thought, he really shouldn’t do things like this, etc, etc, etc. It was long and rambling and sounded really ungrateful. So I deleted the message without sending it, and sent this one instead: Thank you.
He wrote back: Thank you for making me so happy, angel.
That made me feel good. I wrote: Please let this be the last of it, Dante. I can’t keep taking from you like this.
He replied: The living room set I wanted for you is on backorder and will be arriving later in the week. But after that I’ll stop. Probably.
I sighed at that. And then I wrote: Where does someone even buy a king-size mattress before 9 a.m. on a Tuesday morning?
I own a furniture store, among other things, so that was easy.
How convenient. Thank you again, Dante. This was really nice of you. Totally and completely over the top, but nice of you. I will of course repay you for every cent of it, even if it takes me the next ten years.
The only repayment I’ll accept, he wrote, will be the sight of your smiling face enjoying your new things.
One of the deliverymen carried a little round table into the room and set it up in the breakfast nook at the back of the kitchen. It had a black wrought iron frame and a glass top that overlaid a beautiful stone mosaic surface. He left the room and came back with two wrought iron chairs, each with a thick sand-colored cushion. The set was obviously finely made, both functional and artistic. And not that I knew a damn thing about design, but if I had to guess, I’d say it looked like something you’d find in a little courtyard in Italy.
I smiled at that. Dante Dombruso seemed like the kind of man that did everything intentionally. And this seemed like a way of asserting a little of his Italian-American self into my home. I really didn’t mind that. On the contrary, I liked having a bit of Dante around.
When I was again alone in the kitchen, I went and sat at the little table and ran a fingertip over the cool glass surface, tracing the tidy, regular pattern of small brown and gold and sand-colored pebbles beneath the glass.
A few minutes later, Delivery Guy Number One stuck his head into the kitchen. “We’re all done here. We’ll be back later in the week, just as soon as your living room furniture arrives in the warehouse.”
“Thank you,” I said and followed him to the front door, closing and locking it behind him. And then I went and took a look at the bedroom.
The bed was absolutely enormous. It took up most of the room, and was made up with new sheets and blankets and several pillows, all in tranquil shades of green and blue. And it all nestled in a big black wrought iron bed frame that looked expensive and elegant and really, really heavy. I wondered what I’d possibly do with that when Jamie’s lease was up in a few months and I had to move into a cheaper apartment.
I wondered what I was going to do with any of it when I had to move. In addition to the massive bed, the room now also contained a dark wood dresser and a matching set of night stands, topped with attractive lamps. Missing from the room was the flat air mattress.
I went and checked the closet. My thin blanket was folded up on the shelf, the flat pillow on top of it. The gym bag was in there on the floor, and a nice new set of wooden clothes hangers lined the dowel. Ok, now that was attention to detail.
The workers had stopped short of hanging my things up, thank goodness. I pulled my clothes out of the bag and put them on hangers, and stuck my socks and underwear in the top drawer of the dresser. I’d tackle the garbage bags with the rest of my clothes later. For now I climbed up on the bed and stretched out on top of the thick comforter and stared at the ceiling.
Talk about mixed emotions. On one hand, I was incredibly grateful to Dante, and so happy to have a comfortable bed. But on the other hand, I felt really guilty about accepting this stuff. It was just too much. It didn’t feel right, him spending this kind of money on me.
Never mind the fact that he just met me. Obviously I’d made quite an impression on him on our first date. And apparently, the impression was that I was a pathetic kid that needed lots and lots of care.
I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and drummed my fingers on the plastic case for a moment, then typed: Thank you again, Dante. The deliverymen just left. Everything is incredibly beautiful. It reminds me of you.
He soon replied: I’m so glad you like it. And thank you for the compliment.
Maybe I should have just been gracious and left it at that. But instead I wrote: Am struggling a bit to come to grips with all of this. Wish you were here with me. Would feel better if we could talk about it.
The phone rang in my hand, and I answered it with a soft, “Hi.”
“Hi angel.” Dante had a rich, deep voice that I found incredibly soothing. I closed my eyes and let the sound of it wash over me. “You doing ok?”
“I’m overwhelmed,” I told him honestly. “It’s just so much, Dante. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”
“I know it must seem really over the top. But please just enjoy it, Charlie. Like I said, I own a furniture store, so it was really easy to do this for you. And it gave me so much pleasure.”
“That part I really like,” I said softly. “Giving you pleasure, I mean.”
“Same here, angel. I wanted to do this for you to make you feel good. I want you to be happy.”
“Thank you, Dante. I appreciate it so much. I do. But it also…it also makes me feel really guilty,” I admitted, and curled up on my side.
“Why would it make you feel guilty?”
Someone knocked on the door then, and I sighed and ignored it. “I don’t know. I just do. I feel like…I feel like I don’t deserve it.”
“Aren’t you going to get the door?” Dante asked.
“No. It’s probably just someone selling something.”
“Get the door, Charlie,” he said gently.
I sighed and did as I was told, bringing the cell phone with me as I left the bedroom and said, “Ok. Hang on. Please? I’ll only be a minute.”
I swung open the door to find Dante standing there, phone in hand, concerned expression on his handsome face. I pulled the phone from my ear and stammered, “What are you doing here?”
“Your text said ‘wish you were here with me.’ So here I am.”
> “You dropped everything and ran right over? Why?” I stepped back and held the door open for him, staring at him in amazement.
“Why? Because you wanted to talk to me,” Dante said, and drew me into his arms. “Fortunately, I happened to be close by.”
That was absolutely astonishing to me, the fact that I mattered enough to him to come right over because of an offhand comment. “Thank you,” I whispered, clinging to him for just a moment before releasing him and stepping back embarrassedly.
He put his phone in the pocket of his black wool overcoat and took my hand and led me to the bedroom, looking appraisingly at the new furniture as he said, “Come sit down and talk to me, Charlie. We’ll have to do that in here because your living room furniture has yet to arrive.”
I let him lead me to the bed and sat beside him on the plush mattress, drawing one of the pillows onto my lap. The one I’d grabbed was pale green on one side, deep blue on the other, the fabric slightly iridescent. I ran my hand over it absently, and it was smooth and cool and silky to the touch. “I knew that’d be the perfect color combination,” he murmured. When I glanced at him, he said, “When I picked out the linens, I was imagining you lying naked in this bed, your gorgeous skin offset against the deep blue sheets. And I thought of the extraordinary pale jade green of your eyes, and just knew these colors would be right for you.”
I slid close and put my arms around him and kissed him, and he pulled me to him and deepened the kiss. That reminded me of something, and I stood up abruptly, stammering, “Hang on a minute, ok? I’ll be right back.” I fled to the bathroom.
I brushed my teeth quickly, then ran a comb over my hair, which was sticking up in every direction. I wished I wasn’t dressed in ratty gym shorts left over from high school, but oh well.
He was right where I left him, perched on the edge of the bed, watching me closely when I came out of the bathroom. I was beginning to realize this was a thing with him, this careful scrutiny. There was a sharp intelligence in his dark eyes – this was clearly a man that missed nothing. He was serious and focused right now, a different version of himself than the relaxed, playful Dante that had broken into my parents’ house with me. I could tell he was concerned that his gesture of kindness was going to backfire and make me upset with him.
I sat down beside him and picked up his hand with both of mine. “Thank you again for the furniture. I really do appreciate it, so much. And I’m sorry that I was acting weird about it.” I raised his hand to my lips and kissed it.
He looked into my eyes and said, “Please never, ever think you don’t deserve good things, Charlie. You deserve them more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He kissed me again before drawing me into his arms and holding me securely.
And I whispered very quietly, “Thank you for taking care of me.”
When I arrived at work a couple hours later for the super exciting lunch shift, my thoughts were still on Dante. He’d stayed for only a few minutes this morning, just long enough to kiss me and reassure me and make me feel so incredibly happy. And then he had to leave for a day of meetings (about what I couldn’t begin to guess).
I was sort of daydreaming, my work shirt in my hands, when Jamie stuck his head in the employee dressing room and said, “Hey Charlie. Could you come and see me in my office before you begin your shift?”
I nodded, then frowned at his retreating back. Ok, first of all, being called into your ex-boyfriend’s office like he was the principal and you were a naughty school kid was sort of degrading. Secondly, I knew what this little discussion was going to be about, and boy, did I not want to hear Jamie’s opinions on my love life.
I got dressed for my shift, then stuck a neutral expression on my face and went to his office. “Hi,” I said from the doorway. “Where’s Dmitri?” I almost never saw one of them without the other.
“He had to run over to his sister Ani’s apartment, but he’ll be here soon. Sit down, Charlie.”
I sank onto one of the wooden chairs in front of his desk, and took a good, long look at my ex for the first time in days. He was growing his hair out now that he no longer worked in law enforcement. The light brown was streaked with golden blonde and always looked a bit tousled. He was surfing a lot more frequently these days, so his tan was deeper, bringing out his sky blue eyes. These things made him look like he had in high school. Like he had when I first fell in love with him. I dropped my gaze to my hands, which were folded in my lap.
“I’m worried about you, Charlie.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine,” I said, still not making eye contact.
“It really scares me that you’re getting mixed up with Dante Dombruso,” he said, cutting right to the chase. “The man’s dangerous. I mean really, really dangerous. In all likelihood, he’s a killer. And the list of illegal activities he’s involved in is longer than my arm.”
“He won’t hurt me,” I said quietly.
“And you say that based on what?”
I shrugged and said, “I feel good around him. Safe. I’m trusting my instincts, and they’re telling me Dante is ok.”
He wrinkled his brow in concern and said, “I care about you, Charlie. You’re like, the most innocent guy on the planet, and I hate the thought of this guy taking advantage of you.”
“You don’t know him.”
“And you do?”
“I’m getting to know him. And he’s been absolutely wonderful so far.” I grinned as I thought about his sweet concern this morning, rushing over because I said I wished we could talk and then holding me and kissing me and making me feel so incredibly good.
“Oh man. You’re totally falling for him.”
“What if I am?” Was I?
“I just want you to be careful, especially if you decide to sleep with him.”
“Wow. Ok, thank you for the sex talk, Jamie. I didn’t realize you’d stepped into the role of my dad after my real one disowned me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Oh, don’t get all sarcastic and defensive, Charlie. I’m just trying to help. I can’t sit back and watch you headed for disaster. You know I can’t.”
“I appreciate your concern. But there’s no reason to be worried about this.”
“Really.” Jamie looked totally unconvinced.
“Ok, so, I need to go help Cole set up, because your bar opens in ten minutes. Are you done with your lecture?” I asked.
“That wasn’t a lecture.”
“It was a little bit of a lecture.”
“It was a friend expressing concern.”
“In the form of a lecture.”
“Fine. I’m done lecturing, even though it wasn’t a lecture. Just…be careful, Charlie.”
“Message received, loud and clear. I’m totally going to ignore it, just so you know. But it was received.” I got up from my chair and started to leave, then impulsively turned back to Jamie and said, “Hey, could you do me a favor?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“Could you never summon me into your office again? It makes me feel like I’m back in high school and Principal Brewer is getting ready to chew my ass off. It’s not a good feeling.”
“Sorry. It was just a more private place to talk. I didn’t mean to induce a principal’s office flashback.”
“I know,” I said before heading out the door.
I’d expected yet another lunch shift so deserted that tumbleweeds would be rolling through the dining room. But we actually had a couple customers. And then a four-top was seated in my section. I was excited until I saw who it was. And then I felt like crawling under a rock.
The four women in the booth were people I knew all too well. I pressed my eyes shut for a long moment, then made myself stick a smile on my face and walk up to them with a cheerful, “Hi ladies. How’s it going?”
Jamie’s best friend Jess greeted me with a smile and a friendly, “Hey, Charlie.” Jamie and Jess had been inseparable since the first day of Kindergarten. And w
hen I was fifteen and transferred to their high school (for the better football program), they both took me under their wings.
Jess had been a great friend to me, before I’d been stupid enough to dump her best friend. She was still cordial to me after that, but we really weren’t friends anymore. I didn’t know why she was even cordial, actually. Jess was a cute, tiny badass, and I’d expected her to kick my butt after dumping Jamie the way I had.
I was also greeted with a smile by Callie McLoughlin. Now here was another woman that should, by all rights, want to beat the shit out of me. After our short engagement, which ended when I admitted to her that I was living a lie, that I was gay, that I was in love with Jamie, she’d actually forgiven me and said she wanted to remain friends. God knows why.
Callie’s two besties, Tina and Gina, who were seated in the booth with her and Jess, didn’t share Callie’s forgiving attitude, however. They thought I was the Devil incarnate, and were glaring at me like I was something disgusting they’d found stuck to the bottom of their stilettos.
“Hey Charlie. I’d heard you were working here,” Callie said, still smiling. She had thick auburn hair that framed her face in soft waves, and freckles and big brown eyes. She was sweet and pretty and a really nice person, and had always been way too good for me. “How do you like it?”
I shrugged and said lightly, “It’s good. The lunch shift has been pretty slow. But hey, beats the bug business.” For a few months, at the same time that I was dating Callie and thought I could force myself to be straight, I’d made the incredibly stupid decision to go to work for my Uncle Al’s exterminator business. It was all part of some grand, totally misguided plan to grow up and be responsible – wife, family business, eventually a house and kids, the whole stereotypical nine yards. I’d been such an idiot.
“Yeah, no doubt. So hey, want to have lunch some time?” she asked. “I’d really like to catch up.” Callie was taking the let’s-be-friends thing seriously.