Ranger - Jericho's Boys #4 - ch. 5 (Patreon)

Unbeta'd/Unedited. A reckoning of sorts. Before anyone comes at me about the time jumps, try to remember that Seven and Enzo weren't official in Barbarian and that takes place roughly a year after their one night stand. I have to move things along or this book will be 200k pages. Also please try to remember, these two are doing their best.

2 months, 6 days and 4 hours since that first night.

“You’re scaring my patrons with your scowling, grumpy pants.”

Enzo huffed out an irritated breath through his nose but didn’t bother to look at his brother. He just took another sip of his drink, eyes trained on the booth across the bar. “Clearly not all of them,” he muttered. 

He heard his brother snort, but refused to relinquish the target of his quiet brooding long enough to shoot him a nasty look. 

“Are you giving up life as a defense attorney to become a full-time stalker now?” Vince asked, obnoxiously cheerful. 

He pushed his empty glass towards his brother, who stood on the other side of the bar. When the bartender began to walk towards them, Vince waved him off, filling Enzo’s glass himself. When his glass was full once more, he brought it to his lips. His jaw tightened as Seven laughed at something the man beside him said, slapping his arm playfully. 

Enzo’s gaze locked onto Seven’s hands, watching as he waved them around, regaling the other man with some elaborate story. After knowing each other for just two months, Enzo knew Seven was an excellent storyteller. He held court each morning, half the staff gathered around his desk in the bullpen, morning coffee in hand, while he told them some story that would have been boring on anyone else’s lips. 

It wasn’t that Enzo didn’t want Seven to have friends. He did. He wanted Seven to have whatever Seven wanted. But Enzo was selfish. He wanted to keep those stories to himself. He wanted to keep Seven’s smiles for himself. He wanted to keep Seven for himself. Which wasn’t fair. It was unreasonable to want him while also refusing to date him. Even if he was doing it for Seven’s benefit. Even if Seven had clearly moved on. 

“Why is he here so often?” he grumbled, pretending he hadn’t heard his brother’s question. “He’s not even a member.” 

Vince shook his head in Enzo’s peripheral vision. “You’re almost forty, but you’re really just a mean teenage girl in your soul.” 

Enzo flicked his gaze to his brother for a moment but it was back on Seven within seconds. He looked so good. He was still dressed in his clothes from the office. Gray pants with a herringbone print that clung in all the right places. A green shirt the same color as his eyes. He’d lost the tie and rolled up his sleeves, revealing smooth forearms and golden skin. 

“I’m serious,” he said. “This place costs mid-six figures. Has he found himself a rich playmate already?” 

He hated how bitter he sounded, but he couldn’t help himself. The thing was, he didn’t know for a fact that Seven spent a lot of time at Lost Eden. But the four times he’d stopped in to see Vince over the last month and a half, he’d found Seven holding court, just like at the office. His little social butterfly. Except he wasn’t his. He didn’t know why he kept forgetting that. 

But if Seven was there every time Enzo was there, it had to mean Seven was there all the time, even when Enzo wasn’t. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Maybe Enzo should come by more. Keep an eye on things. Just in case. 

He took a swig of his whiskey, pushing the thoughts from his head. He’d never been a jealous person. He’d never been a possessive person. Except when it came to Seven. Enzo had no claim to him. He had no right to feel any type of way about Seven and what he chose to do at the club. But, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to hide him away in the deepest, darkest part of his heart, where nobody else could find him. 

“Maybe if you came by more, you’d know for sure,” Vince said, almost like he was reading Enzo’s mind. 

Enzo didn’t have any reason to spend time at Lost Eden. He’d only ever gone there to find someone to play with. But, now, the one person he wanted to play with no longer wanted to play with him. Which was Seven’s prerogative, obviously. He was a grown man. He could do what he wanted. He could play with whoever he wanted. And despite what had happened at his mother’s house six weeks ago, it was obvious to Enzo that he wasn’t what Seven wanted. 

Enzo couldn’t even blame him. He’d earned his time in the penalty box. He just hadn’t thought he’d be permanently benched. 

“I don’t have time. Work’s been crazy lately.” 

Vince snorted. “You don’t have to lie to me. Just say you only come here hoping I’ll dish about your latest obsession.” 

Enzo didn’t know what to say so, instead, he studied the opulent club with its many golden chandeliers, black on black damask wallpaper, the deep burgandy of the booths. Black and gold suited the place. The aesthetic reflected everything the place claimed to be. Decadent. Expensive. Discreet. But most importantly…exclusive. And that is what made membership such a coveted prize. There was a three-year waitlist that hadn’t budged in at least that many years. 

Enzo’s gaze climbed to the logo on the wall behind Seven’s booth. A golden apple with a cross stabbed through it. It gave the club an occult vibe that made bored, wealthy people feel like they were doing something illicit, even though everything was a hundred percent above board. 

Aside from the money laundering, of course. 

“Are you not going to tell me how my intern can afford a membership to a club that charges half a million dollars? I am a silent partner,” Enzo reminded him. 

“Not nearly silent enough,” Vince said with a nasty smile. 

Once more, Seven burst out laughing. Was this other dude some kind of fucking comedian? What was he saying that was so fucking funny? Enzo’s nostrils flared as the man beside Seven, dropped his hand below the table. Seven didn’t stop him, but he did look around, shoulders stiffening. Enzo soothed himself by imagining beating the man to death with his own severed arm. 

“He got the family discount,” Vince said, now watching Seven and his companion with the lazy indifference of a lion looking over his lands. 

Enzo cut his eyes to his brother before he went over there and did something they’d both regret. “He can’t afford the family discount either.” 

“Oh, no,” Vince said. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. He got the Family-I-Like discount. Free.” 

Enzo choked on his drink, snatching the napkin from Vince’s hand when he offered it. 

“Free? You gave him a free membership? What the hell?” Enzo asked, studying his brother’s face, trying to discern if he was serious. “Did I do something to piss you off?” 

Vince rolled his eyes. “I know this is going to come as a huge shock to you. But the world doesn’t actually revolve around you.” 

Enzo’s mood soured even more. He knew he was being childish. He knew it. But he still couldn’t stop himself. 

“You can’t know that for a fact,” he shot back, making to take a sip of his drink, then thinking better of it, pushing it away from himself. “That can’t be his new dom.” 

Vince leaned forward, forearms on the polished oak of the bar, staring at the two men thoughtfully. “Oh, really? Why’s that?” 

Enzo turned to glower at his brother. Was Vince saying the man was Seven’s dom? There was no way. He wasn’t unattractive. He was tall, lean, looked close to Seven’s age, wore an outfit that probably cost as much as a small Toyota. He just didn’t have the…presence. He wasn’t worthy of Seven. 

“He’s too young for him,” he finally said. 

“What does age have to do with it?” Vince asked, shaking his head. 

“Seven likes older men. He wants a Daddy.” 

Vince scoffed. “Daddy is a state of mind. You know that. We have younger Daddy doms in here all the time. With older subs.” 

Enzo shook his head. “You don’t get it. He’s not interested in a guy like that. He likes…” 

“Guys like you?” Vince finished for him, his amusement obvious. 

“Yeah,” Enzo said, then deflated. “At least he did. Before I fucked it up.” 

Vince shook his head. “Call me crazy, but you could just, you know, walk over there and apologize and ask him to dinner.” 

“I don’t date,” Enzo said, almost on auto-pilot. 

“Right now, you don’t anything. You’re just moping around like a loser. I don’t get it. What’s the holdup? You want to play exclusively with him. You haven’t even looked at anyone else since you met him. You clearly like him.” 

“What’s your point?” Enzo asked, glumly. 

Vince gave him a look that let Enzo know that he knew he was being deliberately obtuse. “I saw you two at mom’s house. You were trying to eat each other alive. Do you think that kind of chemistry comes along every day? He likes you. And—if I’m being honest—you’re not very likable. Luckily for you, he seems willing to do charity work. Ask him out and stop brooding around my club like the grim fucking reaper.” 

Something tightened in his chest. 

“I’ll just end up fucking it up,” Enzo said quietly. “My career comes first. Our family comes first.” 

Vince rolled his eyes. “Or you could just not fuck it up. It’s not that hard to be a good partner. Seven already works in the office with you. He knows all about the family. There’s no risk. Unless you think he’s no different from her. Do you think he’ll do the same thing to you that she did.” 

Enzo stole one of the stirrers from the jar and began to bend it into complex shapes. “This has nothing to do with her. I wish people would just stop bringing her up.” 

Vince shrugged. “We might believe you if you hadn’t forbid us from using her name like doing so would invoke her like Beetlejuice.” When Enzo didn’t respond, he asked, “Are you still leaving presents on his desk like a neurodivergent little squirrel?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Enzo muttered. 

“Give me a fucking break. I talk to Seven more than I talk to you.” 

“And?” 

“And he knows it's you, asshat. From what I hear, the whole office knows it’s you. You’re about as subtle as a stripper at a baptism. If you don’t figure your shit out, forget making partner. You’re gonna get fired for harassment.” 

Enzo rested his elbow on the bar, then propped his chin onto his palm. When he first left Seven the protein shake he’d thought of it as a peace offering. If Seven knew it was Enzo who’d left him that first gift, he hadn’t said so. But he’d smiled just a little when he’d looked at it. That small flash of teeth was enough for Enzo to do it again and again. Enzo was addicted to the tiny smile that would appear for a split second each time Seven found a new gift. The way he’d glance into Enzo’s office for just a moment. He lived for those few seconds when he had Seven’s undivided attention. 

“Level with me,” he said. “Has he…gone downstairs with anyone?” 

While the upstairs looked like any other club uptown, downstairs was what separated Lost Eden from any other club in the state. The playrooms. Below Enzo’s feet sat twelve fully stocked rooms with anything two—or more—consenting adults might need to satisfy their desires. There were things so niche even Enzo couldn’t name them and things so well-loved Vince had a stockroom full of replacements at the ready. 

“That’s his business,” Vince said sharply, shutting him down. “If you want to know so badly, be a man and ask him.”

“Yes, cause men are known for their stellar communication skills,” Enzo muttered. After a moment, he asked, “Did he at least say that he liked my presents?” 

His brother huffed out a humorless laugh. “Of course he likes it. He likes you. He wants you. You’re the one who keeps getting in your own way. Do you think he would be here, trying so hard to learn about something you like—a subject now tied to a really shitty memory for him—if he didn’t like you?” 

Enzo cut his eyes to his brother. “Are you claiming he came here for me?” 

“Yes. He came here for you. The first night, he even took notes.” 

Enzo blinked at him stupidly. “Notes?” 

“Yep. He brought a tablet. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He probably would have recorded me if it hadn’t been so loud. He isn’t here looking for a dom. He’s here to figure out whether he likes this enough to put up with your…special interests. If you get your shit together, that is.” 

Enzo shook his head, like his subconscious couldn’t even fathom a world where that scenario was true. Why would Seven do that for him after what Enzo had done to him? After he’d misread the situation so badly? 

Seven and the man stood, hugging tightly. Enzo sat up straighter, hands closing into fists. But before he could get too upset, the man waved and walked away. Seven waved back, but didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he turned towards them and began walking in their direction. Was he coming to talk to him?

Enzo’s heart raced as Seven approached, unsure what it was he planned to say. But Seven wasn’t coming to him, he walked right past him like he wasn’t even there, heading towards the restrooms. Fuck. He was on his feet before he could talk himself out of it, following Seven towards the bathroom. 

“This is a new low even for you,” Vince called after him. 

Enzo didn’t answer, just gave him the finger over his shoulder. He had no idea what he’d say to Seven once he got there, but he just…wanted to set the record straight. Whatever that meant. He flung the door open…and ran right into Seven, who was not, in fact, using the restroom but standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, brow raised expectantly. 

“What took you so long?” he asked, his tone as flat as his tight-lipped expression.

“What?” 

Smooth, dumbass.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist following me in here,” he said, his irritation causing a flush to creep up Enzo’s neck. 

“You…wanted me to follow you?” he asked, his heart doing a little leap behind his ribs. 

Seven scoffed. “I didn’t say I wanted you to follow me in here; I said I knew you would. But since you did, stop staring at me like a creeper every time we happen to be here at the same time.” 

“Why? Am I cramping your style?” Enzo asked, voice sullen.

“Because it’s creepy, as previously mentioned.” 

Enzo nodded. “Was that guy your…dom?” 

Seven’s eyes went wide. “My…” he blew out an exasperated breath. “That’s none of your business.” 

“I know,” Enzo fired back. “I know it’s not. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.” 

Nobody had ever made him feel this crazy, this childish, this…discombobulated. Not even her. 

Seven’s expression softened just a little, shaking his head helplessly. “I really don’t get you at all.” 

Enzo sighed. “Join the club.” 

The door started to open, but Enzo slammed it shut again. “Occupied.” 

“There’s more than one stall,” the guy shouted, voice muffled. 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Use the one downstairs.”

The man slammed something heavy against the door with a shout–probably his palm–cursing him as he walked away. 

Enzo turned to give Seven his full attention, when the door flung open once more. 

Vince. 

“You two come with me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

In true brat fashion, Seven tried to argue anyway. “I was just lea-” 

“No. You two are both getting on my last fucking nerve,” Vince said. “March.” 

He shoved his finger in the general direction of the stairs. 

Seven snorted. “You can’t possibly think I’m going downstairs with him.” 

Vince rolled his eyes. “As much as I think that would help, no, you’re going upstairs to my office.” 

“I don’t want to-” Seven tried again. 

“I don’t care,” Vince snapped. “My club. My rules.” 

“Your rules allow for kidnapping?” Seven snarked. 

“Yes. Section three, addendum two: Any parties engaged in juvenile conduct shall be remanded to my office for a mandatory conflict resolution feelings talk, per the bylaws of Me, Myself, and My Fucking Club. Now, go.”

Seven looked at Enzo, wide-eyed. “Does it really say that?” 

Enzo snorted. “Knowing my brother, probably, yeah.” 

“Aren’t you a member?” Seven shot back, marching up the stairs.

“Do you read every contract you sign?” Enzo spit back.

Seven looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yes, you moron. We’re lawyers.” 

“I’m a lawyer,” Enzo mumbled. “You’re an intern.” 

Vince yanked open the door to his office. “Inside. Now.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to him,” Seven said, even as he stepped inside. 

“Well, I’m sure he has something to say to you,” Vince said, giving Enzo a pointed look. 

Enzo shook his head. “I don’t-” 

“Don’t make me put you two in the get-along shirt,” Vince threatened menacingly. 

Enzo gasped. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Seven asked. 

Enzo shuddered, remembering the giant t-shirt his mother used to force them to wear together whenever the siblings weren’t getting along. “You don’t want to know.” 

“Call me when you’re done behaving like children and I’ll come let you out,” Vince said, closing the door before either of them could argue. 

They heard the tell-tale sound of a lock clicking into place. He’d actually locked them in there. The psychopath. Enzo looked around the room, attempting to look anywhere but at Seven. Vince’s office was designed much the same as the club downstairs. Mostly black and gold with burgundy accents. But the illusion of opulence was lost with the messy desk piled with paperwork, a laptop, a Tiffany desk lamp and…a set of fuzzy pink handcuffs? 

“So…talk,” Seven said, hugging himself around the middle. 

Enzo’s heart squeezed at how…guarded he looked. Because of him. 

“Have…have you been coming here a lot?” Enzo asked. 

Seven shrugged, his voice nonchalant. “More than you.” 

“How come?” 

“How come what?” Seven asked, turning away from him to pace. 

“How come you’ve been coming here so often?” 

“How come you haven’t?” Seven fired back. “Did you find someone stupid enough to sign your contract?” 

“What? No. I-I’m not looking for anyone else,” Enzo said. 

“Why not? You said it yourself. I lack training. Surely there’s someone here well behaved enough for you. Someone willing to fuck you on demand for money.” 

“Jesus,” Enzo said, holding his hands out. “You’re so harsh when you want to be. That’s not–at all–what I meant.” 

Seven gave him a haughty look. “It’s what you said.” 

Was it? Was that how it had sounded to Seven? “I thought you’d forgiven me for that whole contract thing.” 

Seven glowered at him. “Did you?” 

“Yeah. You kissed me at my mom’s house.” 

“You kissed me,” Seven reminded. “I was drunk. I was in a…weakened state.” 

He was drunk? He hadn’t seemed drunk. A little…overwhelmed, maybe. But not drunk. Enzo was an asshole, but he never would have kissed him if he’d thought he was too drunk to consent. 

Would he? 

Fuck. Seven had him questioning his own morals. His own ethics.

“I didn’t know you were drunk,” Enzo said quietly. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I’d known. I wasn’t trying to…take advantage of you.” 

Seven sighed, face softening. “I know you weren’t. I wasn’t mad at you.” 

It felt a little like an olive branch. “You weren’t?” 

“Not about that,” Seven said, wandering to the sofa and sitting down. 

Enzo followed, glancing at Seven hesitantly until he nodded to the opposite side of the couch. Enzo sat, making sure to keep distance between them. 

“Are you still mad at me about the contract?” Enzo finally asked quietly. 

Seven shrugged. “I already told you to forget about it.” 

“That’s not the same thing,” Enzo said. “You barely talk to me at work.” 

“Yet that hasn’t stopped you from leaving little offerings on my desk every single day.” When Enzo’s face heated up, Seven said, “You know everyone can see you, right?”

Enzo studied Seven’s face, but he gave away nothing. “Do you want me to stop?” 

Seven stared at his hands. “No. Not unless you want to.” 

“I wouldn’t do it, if I didn’t want to,” Enzo said. 

“Why?” 

Enzo frowned. “Why what?” 

“Why do you want to? You don’t leave little gifts for all our other coworkers?” 

“You’re not just a coworker,” Enzo said. “You know that.” 

“Then what am I?” Seven challenged. 

Enzo thought about it before carefully asking, “What do you want to be?”

“Not some contractually obligated sugar baby,” Seven spat. “If that’s what you’re hoping for.” 

That wasn’t what he was hoping for. Fuck. That was the problem. He just hated that Seven was mad at him, hated that he’d disappointed him, hated that he’d hurt his feelings. 

Seven didn’t deserve any of that.

“What do you think would have happened between us if I hadn’t brought up the contract?” he murmured. 

Seven shrugged, still unwilling to meet his gaze. “We probably would have hooked up again.” 

Heat shot through him. “And then what?” 

“And then what what?” Seven asked, glancing at him then away again like he couldn’t meet his gaze for too long. “I don’t know what. Both times I reached out to you, I was having a really bad week. I was just looking for a distraction. A way to forget about shit for a while. I didn’t realize you were doing some kind of charity work that first night.” 

“What?” Enzo asked, choking on the word. “What the fuck does that mean? Charity work?” 

Enzo’s heart shattered into a million pieces when Seven shook his head softly and said, “I thought we had a good night.” 

“We did. It was an amazing night,” Enzo said. 

“Then why did you tell me I hadn’t earned the right to call you Daddy? Why did you tell me you needed to train me? Why did you act like I had to earn a spot in your bed?” Seven asked, words thick like he was forcing them out past the lump in his throat.

“Because,” Enzo started, then sighed, deflating. “Because I’m a fucking asshole.” 

Seven’s head jerked up. “What?” 

Enzo shook his head as he contemplated what he wanted to say without trying to make it sound like he was making excuses or blaming Seven somehow. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell him he was just playing out a scene, that he thought Seven was more experienced with BDSM than he was. All of that was true, but it didn’t negate the fact that Enzo had tried to play with him without any conversation in place. He’d started in the middle and then somehow expected Seven to follow along. 

“I was playing out a-” He stopped short. Fuck, Vince was right. He was a coward. “Do you want the truth? The real truth?” 

Seven looked at him like he was an idiot. “Duh.” 

Enzo hesitated for a moment, scrubbing his hands over his face before he looked at Seven. “I was trying to have my cake and eat it, too.” 

Seven glanced up then away again. “Uh, explain?” 

How the fuck was he supposed to explain this without stripping himself bare? Without admitting how fucking pathetic he was? “I wanted to see you again.”

“I wanted to see you too? So what was the problem?” 

Enzo sighed. “I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night. I still can’t stop thinking about you if I’m being honest. But I knew that if I let you come over again, I was going to have a hard time letting you go. So I was an asshole. I thought if I was…crass enough and cold enough, maybe you’d agree and I could still get to see you but on my terms. Where it was safe.” 

Seven was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, “Are you saying that you don’t think I need training? That I wasn’t too much of a brat? That you would have let me call you Daddy?” 

Enzo huffed out a humorless laugh. “Baby, I’d probably let you take a sledgehammer to my nuts if you looked at me the way you did that night.” 

Seven laughed softly. “I really thought we had a good night.” 

“We had a great night,” Enzo assured him. Life-changing, even. “I’m just an…” 

“Emotionally stunted man baby?” 

“Sure,” Enzo said. “That works.” 

Seven exhaled through his nose. “Look at you, becoming self-aware.” 

“I have my moments,” Enzo said. For a while they both fell silent. He knew he was pressing his luck but he couldn’t let it go. “I know it’s none of my business, but why have you been coming here so often?” 

“The truth?” Seven asked. 

“Duh,” Enzo countered. 

Seven gave him a wry smile. “Because Vince said it would drive you crazy.” 

He was going to kill his brother with his bare fucking hands. Of course, he was responsible for all of this. Meddling asshole. 

Enzo leaned in, snagging one of Seven’s hands, grasping it loosely. “You get that you drive me crazy without any help from my family, right?” 

Seven shrugged, looking at their joined hands. “It’s pretty obvious that you’re into me.” 

Enzo chuckled. “Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re really bad at hiding it.” 

“Well, when you put it that way…” Enzo said, letting his words die off. 

Seven’s fingers curled around his. “It doesn’t matter though.” 

Enzo’s stomach clenched. “What do you mean?” 

“I can’t do it.” 

“Can’t do what?” Enzo asked, not following. 

Seven was silent for a solid minute. “You met my mom, right?” 

“Yeah, she’s great,” he said, unsure why the conversation had just taken such a sharp left turn.

“She is. Amazing even. Smart. Funny. Successful. Gorgeous. The total package. She was a professional model when she met my dad. She was on the cover of magazines.” 

Enzo nodded, hoping it encouraged him to continue. Seven’s mother had been all those things and more. 

“My dad, on the other hand, is a complete loser. He’s been in and out of prison so many times he practically has a cell with his own name on it. He treats women like they’re disposable, he treats my mom like she’s an option. And–for some reason I can’t even fathom–she lets him.” 

“She loves him?” Enzo asked. 

“She does,” Seven agreed. “She loves him so much she gives him her money, her time, her life. You know what he gives her? Nothing. And she just accepts it. She lives her life like she’s single. But whenever he calls, she goes to him.” 

“People are…complex.” 

Seven shook his head. “I’m never going to do that. Ever. Not for anyone,” he vowed. “But especially not for you.” 

Enzo’s eyes went wide. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“You did,” Seven cried, face twisting like he was in pain. “You did ask me to do that. You sat right across from me and told me that I could sleep with you again if I learned to be obedient. You told me the only way I could sleep with you again, was if I asked for nothing more than money and orgasms.” 

That is what he’d said. Knowing what he did about Seven’s father, the exchange between them now seemed a thousand times worse than it already was in his head. He’d cut him deeply. All to protect himself. 

“It’s not-” Enzo started, then caught himself with a dull laugh. “I was about to say it’s not you, its me. It sounds so fucking trite, but it’s true. I didn’t write that contract because I thought you were somehow lacking, I wrote it up because I know I am.” 

Seven frowned. “You know you’re what?” 

“A shitty fucking boyfriend,” Enzo said. 

“Meaning…” Seven asked, keeping  their fingers tangled between them even though he was still so painfully guarded. 

Enzo never talked about this with anyone. It was too fucking embarrassing. “The last relationship I was in…was a fucking disaster.” 

“That’s hardly unique? Most relationships end…until you find the one that doesn’t. No?” 

“You make it sound so easy,” Enzo said, expression pained. 

“Vince was right. She really did a number on you,” Seven said. 

Enzo sucked in a sharp breath. “Vince told you about her?” 

“Only that you had a relationship that ended badly and that it had fucked you up in the head. He said you use BDSM as a way to keep distance between you and whoever you sleep with. He also said that’s not how it’s meant to be used.” 

“He’s one to talk…” Enzo muttered. 

“So what did she do to you?” Seven asked. “And don’t tell me you don’t want to talk about it. If you want me to understand, then just tell me.” 

He hated talking about this. He felt like a fool. Pathetic. Oblivious. A million other adjectives. But Seven was right. If he was going to explain himself, he couldn’t do it without talking about her. He might as well rip off the bandaid. 

“She slept with my best friend.”

Seven’s breath caught. “Damn.” 

“Yeah. And I couldn’t even blame anyone but myself.” 

“It’s your fault she was sleeping with your best friend?” Seven repeated. 

Enzo nodded. “See my previous shitty boyfriend statement. I was the one constantly canceling plans. I was the one who missed every anniversary, every birthday. I was a fucking asshole. I was consumed with the idea of making partner before we got married. She got tired of being alone. He was always there.” 

“That’s no excuse,” Seven said. “I don’t care how absent someone was, I would never do that.” 

Enzo shrugged. “She said she kept waiting for me to notice she was cheating on me, but no matter how obvious she made it, I was still too self-absorbed to notice.” 

“Wow.” 

“Yeah, so I don’t do relationships anymore. Contracts just make things less…painful.” 

Seven shook his head. “For who?” 

“For anyone stupid enough to want to see me more than once,” Enzo said, feeling like there was an anvil in his stomach. 

“How long ago was this?” Seven asked. 

Enzo shrugged. “Almost eleven years ago now.” 

“And you don’t think you’ve changed at all since then?” Seven asked. “Not even a little?” 

“I don’t know. But is it worth risking your heart?” Enzo asked. “Do you really want to be with someone who is at his mother’s beck and call? Who’s at their client's beck and call?” 

Seven gave him an unimpressed look. “You get that I have my own life, right? I have friends. I have law school. I have my own…extra-curricular familial obligations. I have my internship. I’m an adult. You could have just explained things, given me the option of opting out. The irony is I wasn’t even looking to date you. I just wanted to forget my life for a few hours.” 

Enzo really was an asshole. “I’m sorry. Turns out I’m really good at self-sabotage.” 

Seven patted his hand. “It’s never too late to turn it all around.” 

“With you?” Enzo asked, hating how his heart clenched at the thought. 

“No, not with me.” 

His words were a kick to the chest, but no more than he deserved. “Is there really no chance you’ll forgive me?” 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Seven said, giving him a sad smile. “I’m just not willing to settle for scraps.” 

Enzo licked over his bottom lip. “And if I offered more than scraps?” 

Seven studied him for a solid minute. “After you kissed me a few weeks ago, I kept having these stupid little daydreams about us as a couple. Living together, working together-” He stopped to eye him meaningfully. “-playing together. Calling you Daddy. An actual relationship.”

Enzo tried to swallow past the invisible hand around his throat. “Oh?” he managed.

“Mm,” Seven said. “I’ve been coming here a lot, talking to doms. The more I learn, the more I think I’d like this type of relationship…the more I think about having this type of relationship with you.” A sad look came over his face. It made Enzo’s stomach dip. “But then reality sets in.” 

“Reality being...” Enzo heard himself ask. 

“The one thing I hear over and over again is submission requires trust.”

Enzo nodded. “Yeah.” 

Seven caught and held his gaze for the first time all night. “And I can’t trust you.” 

Enzo blinked rapidly, face flushing, trying to fight the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” Seven said, sounding desolate. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Enzo got up the nerve to ask, “Where does that leave us?” 

“Friends?” Seven offered. 

Enzo gave a stilted nod. “Sure. We can be friends.” 

“Good,” Seven said, not sounding any happier about it than Enzo. 

Enzo reluctantly released his hand. “Can I still leave presents on your desk?” 

“Do you leave presents for your other friends?” Seven countered with a smile. 

Something shriveled within him. “I don’t have any friends,” Enzo admitted. “Not anymore.” 

Seven gave him a pitying look. “Sure. You can leave me all the presents you want. Just don’t think it means I’m going to jump back into your arms.” 

“Of course not,” Enzo said. “I just…like seeing you smile.” 

Seven shook his head. “For someone who sucks at relationships, you sure are a sweet talker when you want to be.” 

Enzo struggled to come up with any kind of retort that didn’t involve falling to his knees and begging Seven to give him a chance to prove himself. But deep down he wasn’t sure he could prove himself. Enzo didn’t want to be the one to hurt him again. 

“Call your brother and tell him we’ve worked it out.” 

Had they? “Yeah, okay.” 

They sat in silence until Vince came to let them out. He didn’t grill them about their talk–he didn’t say anything at all–just escorted them back to the floor. When Seven said he was leaving, Enzo followed him out, waiting with him for his Uber to arrive. 

As the car pulled up, Enzo heard himself ask, “What if I wanted to try to earn your trust?” 

Seven opened the door, then turned to look at him. “You can try.” 

“Okay,” Enzo said, nodding. 

Seven gave him a little wave. “Until then, see ya around, friend.” 

Enzo nodded, returning a barely there wave. “Yeah, see ya.”