He never would have opened the door if he had known it was her. He swatted her hand away. "What do you want, Aimee?"
She rubbed her hand and looked at him like she was the true injured party. But then her smirk returned. "I want your silly little feminine boyfriend to break up with you."
"That's not going to happen."
She twirled a curl around her finger, that annoying girlish action reminding him of another reason why he hated her. "Oh?"
"Zay is happy. I've never given him any reason to break up with me, and I'm not about to start now."
"I bet he'd break up with you if news got out you were cheating on him." She gave the predatory smile that had always meant she was about to crush his fractured self-esteem into bits again. "Especially if you cheated with your very famous ex."
"I hate you," he gritted out. "There's no way I would ever cheat on Zay with you, and he knows it. And I don't care how goddam famous you are. Zay could be the most mediocre person in the world and I'd still choose him."
She opened her mouth like she had a counterargument.
He did not let her get a single word out. "You can try to destroy my life as much as you'd like, but I'm never going to give you what you want. I refuse to let you keep making my life miserable." He shut the door in her face and deadbolted it before she could say anything in reply.
Pandi jumped when Zay's hand came down on his head.
Zay sat on the back of the couch and carded his fingers through Pandi's hair. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked, voice patient like Pandi was a traumatized cat. "You've been out of it all day."
Closing his book with a sigh, Pandi set it aside and closed his eyes, surrendering to Zay's touch. "The same thing as always. Aimee."
Zay's nails scratched along Pandi's scalp, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.
Maybe Pandi was a cat after all.
"I know you're a therapist, so you're going to think this is stupid, but you should get some therapy."
Pandi opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look into Zay's face. "Why? I'm painfully self-aware. I know what's wrong with me. Why should I pay someone else to tell me what I already know?"
"Because," Zay said, fingertips brushing Pandi's forehead, "you have trauma. You react with PTSD-like symptoms. You need to talk about it with someone who can hold you accountable."
"Can't I just talk to you?"
Zay's dark eyes grew a little sad. "I'm not your therapist, babe. I'm sure there are things that Aimee did to you that I shouldn't hear about, simply for my own mental health. I know enough."
Pandi knew what Zay meant, but his mind still twisted it. "You don't want to listen to me?"
Zay put his hands on either side of Pandi's face. "Darling, if you really feel the need to talk to me about something, I'll always listen. But you need to know that sometimes I might have to step away. You're someone I care a lot about, but other people I also care about have gone through really horrible things that keep me awake at night more than I want to admit. It's not that I don't want to listen to you. I just can't bear all of it." His thumbs brushed over Pandi's cheekbones. "Please tell me you understand."
Pandi nodded. He did understand. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"You aren't hurting me," Zay reassured him. "It's just a personal boundary I needed to set."
Pandi nodded again. "Personal boundaries are good."
"Then maybe you should set some." Zay bent and planted a light kiss on Pandi's nose. "On your own and with a therapist who can help you keep to them."
"You're really not letting this therapist thing go, are you?"
"Not until you get a good one who's adequately equipped to give you the care you need."
"You're so stubborn."
"So are you." Zay dropped another kiss onto Pandi's face, this time on his lips. He let Pandi deepen it and giggled when Pandi pulled him over the back of the couch to get a better angle. "Even if you fuck me, I'm still not going to drop it," he teased.
"I know," Pandi replied before diving back in, tickling Zay a little bit just to hear that adorable giggle again. He loved Zay so much that there was no room in his heart for fear during times like this. He buried his face in the curve of Zay's neck, covering the smooth skin there in open-mouthed kisses. He slid his hands beneath Zay's shirt and ran his fingers up to tease at Zay's nipples and then down to run them beneath Zay's waistband.
Zay grabbed the back of Pandi's neck and pulled them both upright. "We're finishing this in the bedroom," he said, no room in his tone for argument.
Pandi would never argue with Zay. Whatever Zay wanted, if Pandi was capable of giving it to Zay, he would give without question. The therapist in him screamed toxic at that thought, but he ignored it for now. Zay wanted him right now, so he could not let himself get stuck in his own head. He got undressed and was the first to fall onto the bed.
Zay ripped off his socks and climbed on top of Pandi. A look of…something crossed his face like a bullet; a blink and it was gone. His hands settled lightly on Pandi's shoulders, tracing the rise and dip of his collarbone. "Is this okay?" he asked softly. "Me on top of you?"
Pandi nodded. He did not understand why this was giving Zay pause.
Zay slid his hands down and gripped Pandi's waist. "Fuck. I can almost close my hands around your waist. How are you so fucking fit?"
Pandi let Zay's curse words slide, as he always did in the bedroom. He wanted Zay to feel free in here. But Zay had never…praised Pandi's body before. Not like this. It made him uncomfortable, and Zay knew that. What was he doing?
Zay bent and licked a stripe up the center of Pandi's chest to the hollow of his throat. Then his hot lips were suddenly pressed on Pandi's ear. "Would you let me?"
A shiver ran down the length of Pandi's body at the proximity of the whisper and the raw desire it held. "Let you?" he asked, breath hitching as Zay's teeth closed over his earlobe and bit down just hard enough to send a shock of adrenaline through Pandi's nerves.
"Yeah," Zay breathed out, tongue tracing the shell of Pandi's ear. "Would you let me top you? Fuck you? Even if there's no real point to it other than getting off?"
The oxygen in Pandi's lungs evaporated. He wanted to give Zay anything and everything he asked for. He really did. But Zay having all the control was so similar to what she had done to him. No, he was stronger than this. He could give Zay what he wanted. "If it's what you need," he replied, strictly regulating his diaphragm to keep his voice even.
Zay pulled back instantly, like Pandi's words were a flame that had just sparked in his face. "Pandi, you can say no."
No, no, he couldn't. Zay wanted it. Zay wanted it, so he had to give it. He had to. When he said no, that was when all the bad things started happening. He couldn't. He couldn't.
Zay grabbed Pandi's face tightly, his fingers burning against Pandi's skin. "Pandi. Breathe. Darling, please breathe."
He couldn't. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't. He couldn't say no. He couldn't.
"Oh god." Zay's grip tightened even more, fingernails digging into Pandi's cheeks. "Oh god, what did I do? I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry. Please. Please breathe. Please don't die." With each word, Zay sounded closer and closer to tears.
He didn't want Zay to cry. So he opened his mouth and forced his collapsed lungs to take in air. It burned. It burned so bad. But he couldn't let this be the reason Zay cried. He kept sucking breaths in and pushing them out until his vision cleared enough to see Zay's tear-streaked face. No. He'd made Zay cry. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, reaching one dysfunctioning hand up and trying to wipe the tears away. He had no idea if his hand even made contact with Zay's face. He couldn't feel anything except the fiery pain in his lungs every time he drew in another breath.
Zay caught his hand and held it to his face, pressing dry kisses to his palm. "No, it's not your fault. Don't be sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you. Not like that."
"It's not you," he replied, the words thick on his tongue. "It's not you. It's me. It's her."
Zay went scarily still. "Her?" he asked, voice dangerous. "Is it the her I'm thinking of?" He remembered that Pandi did not want her name in their bedroom.
Pandi nodded roughly, some more of his vision clearing.
Zay was suddenly blanketing himself over Pandi, squeezing him close. "She made you believe you can't say no."
Pandi tried to shake his head, but somehow he nodded instead as something wet and warm dripped down his face. Tears. Why was he like this? He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who protected and comforted Zay. Why was he so fucking weak?
"You're not weak," Zay said.
Had Pandi said all that shit out loud?
"Yes," Zay answered.
Fuck.
Zay laughed, the sound a little wet. "Hearing you swear is never not going to be funny."
"Are you going to tell me that I need a therapist again?"
"I'm going to march you into a therapist's office, babe. You need help. And it doesn't make you weak to need help. It makes you human."
Pandi rolled his eyes. "I get the point."
Zay pushed up, his hands bracketing Pandi's head. "You'd better. I'm serious. Panic attacks like that are no joke. What if you had been alone when that happened? What if you're alone in the future? You need a safe environment to process everything."
Suddenly, Pandi needed him to know. "She was here."
Zay's expression went dark so fast that Pandi got a little scared. "When?"
"A week or so again. The day before your match. It's my fault. I shouldn't have opened the door without checking who it was. I thought it was just Bradley. But he always texts me first. I should've known."
Zay threaded his fingers into Pandi's hair and tugged him up for a toe-curling kiss. "What did she want?" he asked against Pandi's lips.
"Us to break up. She wanted me to cheat on you."
Zay's face twisted into an expression of disgust. "That bitch."
Pandi nodded. "Why do you think I suddenly decided to sue her?"
Zay kissed him again, the pressure of his lips and tongue so warm and comforting. "You're beautiful," he murmured.
Pandi tried to look away.
Zay still had his hands fisted in Pandi's hair and pulled him back. "You are. In what you do, in who you are, in what you look like. You're gorgeous. Do you believe me?"
"I want to," Pandi replied, voice raw. "I want to, but I don't."
"Don't worry, darling. I'll make you believe it, especially if it's to make that self-important bitch fume from behind bars."
Pandi laughed into the next kiss and locked his hands behind Zay's neck to drag him down and closer until they felt like one being.