Take My Breath Away

Chapter 19

Dean POV:

I clench my fists and pace the room angrily while realizing what I have done. I shouldn't have jumped on Seth if he was not interested, but I tried to force him. If Ronda did not come there on time, I would drive everything worse. What would he think about me? Did he panic at my wild behavior?

At least she should wake me up after I passed out. I would follow Seth and try to convince him, making him forget about everything. But that girl made everything on purpose. What can I do now? It's all not my fault. It's all his fault, the man, who is sleeping on the bed peacefully without caring about my life.

I glare at the Samoan and curse under my breath about him for not keeping me in control while my boyfriend is with me. Okay, so he's made my life a living hell for wanting to spend his time with his precious girlfriend.

I have to beat the shit out of him for letting me stand at the edge of the hell, but I don't attack guys in their sleep. In the ring, yes. Backstage, yes. In the parking lot after a show, yes. But hitting a guy in his sleep will be like kicking him in the balls, and I abhor low blows.

A few minutes later, he wakes up from his sleep and glances at me in surprise. "What, dude?" He moves to sit up and leans against the headboard, watching me pacing the room. "You're going to tear a hole in the carpet with your pacing."

"Shut it. You shouldn't even be here. And I'm the one paying for the damn room." I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face and looking at him. I finally sit in a chair across from him, propping my feet up on the small table near me. "Sorry, Ro. Just.. keyed up."

"I know." He says, thinking about something. It would be a lengthy process, but that didn't mean he would keep a blind eye to what was going on in the party, especially when it came to me. And Seth! "I don't blame you because I know you. But he should be aware of you!"

"Huh?" I look back at him. "Oh, you are making fun of me."

"Yeah. What can I do?" He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you were intelligent to take care of this problem, you would be there in his house now and tried to convince him, not arguing with me." He kicks my legs and shoves them to the floor.

"Oh, thanks. I'm going." I snort and get up from the chair, looking for my jacket. I slip the jacket on and grab my new phone before making my way to the door, but stop when he mumbles something behind me.

"Be careful, all right? I know you won't listen to me, but try to change a little if you're falling for him. He seems out of your league!" His words are irritating me because he's trying to boost fuel to fire now.

I roll my eyes and wave a hand at him before opening the door and leaving the room. I reach the lobby quickly and notice the sky has darkened, but I don't care because I should've convinced him already. I get in my car and drive it to his house, hoping everything will be okay.

When I reach his house, I stare at the door and think about my choice before knocking on it. As soon as he's open the door, I don't let him talk about anything as I lean across the distance and kiss him quietly while kicking the door shut behind us.

I savor the slow slide of our lips as we move together; he instantly has that faith in me, that trust, and goes along with me. Not that he's submitting, he is still fighting for trying not to trust me, and it only serves to make me feel all the hotter, the better.

Many people crossed in my life before, but it hadn't meant anything. Now there is Seth, and it does! I'm gladly falling for him and willing to do all the things I can think of to him if he lays down for me. I'm quite looking forward to it.

I pull back and can't hold back a grin at the sound he makes as we move away from each other. I like the glazed look in his eyes because it means I have done my job well. "Sorry!" I smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

"I-I don't know what to say after you have tried to force me.." He says, biting his lip nervously. "I'm an idiot if I-" He trails off, not knowing how to tell anymore.

"Yeah, but you're my idiot, you know? I've never.. you have to know I've never told anyone that-" I murmur, trying to convince him. "You know."

His brows raise as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know what? I think you're going to have to elaborate."

I let out a huff. "Fuck off. You know what I'm talking about!"

He smiles and shakes his head. "Do I know? Come on, Dean, you can't leave me hanging like that. I think I deserve to know."

I grunt and move forward, tackling the other man, who lets out a rather unmanly squeak as he gets taken by surprise, laying on top of me. I lean down to kiss him thoroughly, and when I pull up for air, it has him gasping. I move my lips down over his ear, loving the delicious little shiver he makes as I run my tongue down it.

"I love you," I whisper huskily. "And I'll do something special for you to clear this fog between us."

Seth POV:

Dean insists he makes us dinner, all by himself, and outrightly refuses my help when I offer it. He can be a stubborn bastard when he wants to be.

I sit on the counter amused, with an orange juice in hand, trying to keep my commentary to myself as much as possible. I watch Dean as he works, fascinated by the movements of his fingers, the way the muscles in his hands tense and release, the calluses on his palms.

His idiosyncrasies come out as he concentrates and seems to forget he's being watched, forehead creased, the tip of his tongue catches between his teeth, all the micro-expressions flitting across his face when he's trying to figure something out.

I enjoy seeing him like this. He seems an utterly laid-back and relaxed guy, but when he gets intense and focused on something, it's like he becomes another creature altogether. Someone, it's impossible to look away from.

Finally, he gets dinner on the table with some complicated chicken thing, stuffed with bacon and cheese and fries on the side because it's Dean, and it's actually edible and honestly pretty good, even if I have never actually admitted until my dying day. Wanting to entertain the moment, I don't stop making fun of him, though.

"Shut up," He says dismissively. "I'm a master chef extraordinaire, and you should know it."

"More like a master show-off extraordinaire," I say, deadpan.

"Please," He says scornfully. "Admit it. You love it."

I make a vague noncommittal sound in response.

He just gently nudges my foot under the table with his own and grins a stupidly endearing smile at me. And I can't help smiling back until my plate is clean. When we've done, he gets up and comes to grab my plate, but I reach up to stop him, my fingers encircling his wrist.

I slowly get to my feet without releasing his hand and look at him, eye-to-eye, close enough to hear his breathing. In the bottle of my heart, his breath will make a tunnel. I can feel his heartbeat speed up a little from where my thumb's resting on his pulse point.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, eyes narrowing at me.

I nod at him, the barest hint of a smile on my lips as I seem to suddenly, all at once, realize something. "Yeah, I'm good," I tell him honestly. "It's all good now." And then I kiss him. It's soft and chaste, and only for a second, but it feels like everything I need for a long time.

A moment of perfect stillness and clarity. Contentment. Belonging. It's just an acknowledgment. It's like a thank you, or you're the only one for me now, or this is all I've ever wanted.

He blinks at me a few times when he pulls away but doesn't let me get too far, wrapping one arm firmly around my waist, the other tangling in my hair to pull me back into another deep, breathless kiss.