Page 55 of Mutual Desire

The conversation drifted to movies, with Dimitri declaring he needed to see one before Eric did, just to spoil the plot. It was childish game between the two friends, but it made Damien laugh, a welcome distraction from the knot tightening in his chest.

“I have to head out, guys,” Samuel announced suddenly, glancing at his phone. “Andrea needs help finalizing the guest list—and apparently, it’s urgent.Damien saw the slight shift in Dimitri’s expression—the flicker of disappointment, masked quickly behind an easy smile. “Of course she does,” Dimitri muttered, more to himself than anyone else before picking up his phone.

Samuel stood, oblivious, and said his goodbyes. Dimitri barely glanced up from his phone, his mood noticeably darker now that Samuel had left. Damien gave Samuel a knowing look but said nothing, respecting Dimitri’s unspoken emotions.

Once Samuel was gone, Damien turned to his friend. “You good, Dim?”

Dimitri shrugged, but his easy grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I should be asking you that, D.”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.Damien swallowed hard. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. “I kissed someone.”

Dimitri arched an eyebrow, showing no surprise. “Yeah? Or did they kiss you?”

Damien exhaled sharply. “He kissed me...but I didn’t exactly push him away.”

Dimitri gave him a look—half amused, half understanding. “How many times?”

“Two...maybe three,” Damien admitted, feeling the weight of his own guilt.

“And?” Dimitri leaned in slightly. “Did you like it?”

Damien hesitated, the answer twisting inside him. “I didn’t hate it,” he whispered, shame clouding his voice. “But it shouldn’t have happened.”

Dimitri’s gaze softened, all traces of teasing gone. “It’s okay if you liked it, D. I’m not here to judge you.”

The kindness in Dimitri’s voice almost broke Damien. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I love Craig. I really do. But...” He trailed off, unable to put his confusion into words.

“But there’s something about this guy,” Dimitri finished for him.

Damien nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. And I hate it.”

Dimitri leaned back, crossing his arms. “Then cut him out, D. Before it gets worse.”

Damien sighed deeply, knowing Dimitri was right. Nabokov was dangerous—not just because of what he wanted, but because of what Damien couldn’t seem to resist.

When Dimitri finally left around 6, after a day spent immersed in video games and devouring Chinese takeout, Damien sat in the heavy silence of his apartment, his gaze locked on his phone. The missed calls from Craig stared back at him, each one a reminder of the avoidance he’d carefully orchestrated. Deliberate. Intentional. And now, the weight of those unanswered calls pressed down on him, suffocating and impossible to ignore. With the empty apartment pressing in around him, those ignored calls felt like ghosts lurking, reminding him of decisions he couldn't escape. This was it. He needed to call and confess. Get it out in the open. It was better than letting it fester inside him.

He took a deep breath and pressed the call button. The phone barely rang before Craig answered, sounding agitated. “Damien?”

“Hey... how are you?” Damien began, trying to sound casual, but Craig’s sharp voice cut him off.

“Are you okay? I’ve been trying to reachyou all day.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Damien whispered, his throat tightening. “I was with Dimitri—my phone was in the other room.”

Silence followed, thick and suffocating.

“That’s the excuse you’re going with?” Craig said, his voice a low, disbelieving whisper. “I’ve been worried sick, and you...forgot your phone?”

Damien closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t intentional, I swear—”

“Whatever, Damien.”

The call ended abruptly. Craig had hung up. Damien stared at the phone, the dial tone ringing in his ears. He swiped at the screen, trying to call Craig back, but there was no answer. On the fourth attempt, his phone buzzed with a new message—from Nabokov.

8 PM. My office. I’ll be waiting.

Damien’s heart pounded as frustration boiled over. He quickly typed back:

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