“Yeah, but now it takes more food to fill me up.”
“Which we buy,” Sloane reminded him. “Admit it. You wanted ice cream, and since you’d eaten all of yours, you thought you’d eat mine and then pretend like I’d finished it.” It wouldn’t be the first time. Sloane knew Dex far too well by now. Sloane rarely ate dessert, which meant his lasted longer, or at least until Dex gave him the sad puppy eyes and Sloane gave in.
Dex threw a hand dramatically over his brow. “I can’t help it, Sloane. I’m weak, and ice cream is so tasty.”
“It also bloats you.”
“This is true.” Dex got up and shoved his butt in Sloane’s face, making him laugh. Damn it. He didn’t want to give in that quickly. “Does my ass look bigger?”
“Get your butt out of my face,” Sloane said, trying hard to sound annoyed.
“But you like my butt in your face.” Dex wiggled his ass, and Sloane slapped it. “Ooh, yeah, baby, just like that. I’ve been a naughty boy.”
Sloane let out a bark of laughter. “Oh my God, all right. I give up. I’m not mad.”
Dex dropped down onto the couch and resumed his spot with his head on Sloane’s lap. His smile was ridiculous.
“I knew you loved me.”
“Shut up.”
Dex did the opposite. He was relentless. Until he had Sloane where he wanted him, he wouldn’t give up. He snapped his fingers, and Retro Radio came floating through the speakers. Dex rolled off the couch, popped up like a jack-in-the-box, and broke off into song, replacing the lyrics “the boy” in “Let’s Hear It for the Boy” with “my Sloane” all while pulling his best Footloose moves.
Oh dear God. Sloane pressed his lips together and shook his head. He was not giving in. He was strong. He could do this.
Dex arched an eyebrow at him. He snapped his fingers, and the Eurythmics “Sweet Dreams” started playing. Dex arched his brows and sang along as he did deep lunges across the living room, his eyes never leaving Sloane no matter which way he turned.
Not happening, Daley. No dice.
With narrowed eyes, Dex snapped his fingers, and “Two of Hearts” came on. Sloane inhaled deeply and braced himself as Dex did his best eighties Jazzercise. Seeing as how that didn’t work, Dex moved on to the next song, and Sloane knew he was in trouble the moment he heard the first chord. He closed his eyes and shook his head. The couch cushions dipped, and Sloane was forced to open his eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling as Dex lip-synched to Chicago’s “You’re the Inspiration,” dramatic hand gestures and all. Dex straddled Sloane’s lap and put everything he had into his performance, one hand going to his heart, the other out grabbing air. During the chorus, he grabbed Sloane’s head and brought it against his chest.
“Okay, okay. I give,” Sloane said with a laugh before he was smothered. Dex released him, and he sat back. “If I hold it in anymore, I’m going to pop a spleen.”
“Yes!” Dex jumped to his feet, then fist-pumped the air. He lowered his voice, mimicking a certain burly gladiator. “Call me Victorius Maximus.”
“All right, Victorius Maximus. Get over here.”
Dex happily obliged, lying down on the couch with his head on Sloane’s lap once more. Sloane grabbed one of the throw pillows. “Head up.”
Dex lifted his head, and Sloane placed the pillow under him. They settled in together, and Sloane ran his fingers absently through Dex’s soft hair as they watched TV together. Sloane couldn’t remember the last time they got to just hang out and spend time together like a normal couple without some kind of crisis hitting. So this was how the other half lived? Waking up, running errands, doing chores, cooking, watching TV, spending time together. They’d griped about how their laundry detergent wasn’t as good as it used to be and that they should try out a new brand. It was all so oddly satisfying.
Sloane dozed off at some point and woke up to find Dex gone. He checked his watch, surprised he hadn’t actually been asleep very long. The house was oddly quiet, with the only sounds coming from the TV. Maybe Dex had just popped upstairs to the bathroom. After half an hour and still no Dex, Sloane got up. He headed upstairs to their bedroom. It was empty, but the bathroom door was closed. Was Dex not feeling well? Sloane had a habit of worrying when Dex was sick. With Dex’s mutation, there was no telling whether a cold or stomach bug was just that or the start of something more.
Sloane stopped in front of the bathroom door and reached up to knock, but paused when he heard sniffling. Putting his ear to the door, he could hear Dex clearly on the other side. Dex was crying, and it broke Sloane’s heart. He felt the pain then. The heartache. Dex’s heartache. Sloane was torn. He desperately wanted to draw Dex into his arms and comfort him, but he also wanted to give Dex his privacy. It was clear Dex wanted to be on his own, or he would have woken Sloane up.
Instead of disturbing him, Sloane went back downstairs and checked the house, making sure everything was locked. He switched off all the lights, then returned to the bedroom. After turning down the bed and switching on his bedside lamp, he climbed into bed under the covers. He’d just settled down on his side and closed his eyes, when he heard the bathroom door open. A heartbeat later, Dex joined him in bed, and Sloane’s heart skipped a beat when Dex slipped his arm under Sloane’s and around Sloane’s chest, his body pressed against Sloane’s back from head to toe. Sloane placed his hand over Dex’s and laced their fingers together. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” Dex said, his voice quiet and rough. “I was thinking about the wedding when I kind of dozed off. I was half-asleep, but still awake, and I had this vision of us getting married, and my parents were there. I woke up, and….” Dex let out a shuddered sigh. “I realized it had been a dream. It hit me harder than I expected.”
Sloane turned to face Dex and wiped a tear from his wet cheek. Dex pressed his lips together and shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it. That was okay. Sloane drew him close, and they lay together, limbs entangled. He rubbed circles on Dex’s back and kissed his brow, offering the comfort Dex sought.
“I love you,” Dex said, his voice so quiet Sloane wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t so close.
“I love you too, baby.” Sloane stroked Dex’s cheek—his mind, body, and soul feeling at peace. He inhaled the scent he’d know anywhere. His beautiful mate, his best friend, and his whole world.
CHAPTER 3
“I CAN’T believe we have to train during our time off,” Dex whined loudly.