Low went home. Mostly because he had no more clothes at Ronna’s place. And he was pretty sure his sister was close to kicking him out anyway. So after talking with her, Michelle and Andy, he packed up and took his ass back to his place.

He had business to deal with. He’d made an offer on a condo and he was still waiting for word on that. His world didn’t stop spinning just because Renzo Vega broke his heart. Even though it damn well felt like it.

He took a shower, read some of his material for school, and just as he sat down to eat the leftovers Ronna sent home with him, his doorbell rang. His heart leaped into his throat when he opened the door to see Dax standing on his doorstep. And yeah, his gaze immediately searched beyond Dax.

“I came alone.”

He was not disappointed. He stepped back and allowed Dax to enter. “What’s up?”

Dax snorted. “What’s up?” He eyed Low up and down. “You look like you lost your favorite puppy and he’s a fucking mess. That’s what’s up.”

Low ignored the pang those words brought to his chest and made his way back to the kitchen. “So what, you’re here to beg me to take him back?”

“He’s not sleeping,” Dax said behind him. “He’s barely eating. Shay keeps chasing him out of the club because he never leaves.”

Low sat at the table while Dax stood there, hands in his pockets.

“He doesn’t want to be at the house if you’re not there.”

Low glanced away. “I’m sorry.” He stood back up and began pulling plastic containers out of the cupboard. “He kept something major from me, Dax. I can’t forget that.”

“You know why he did that. Come on, Low. You think he deliberately set out to hurt you? That man worships you.”

Low spooned food into the containers. “I don’t feel like it right now.”

“Yeah, because you’re not talking to him. And he’s not talking to me.” Frustration roughened Dax’s voice. “I don’t know what to do for him. Usually, a sleeping pill would put him down for a few hours, but that’s not working. He’s not letting me touch him. It’s like he’s punishing himself.”

Low pretended those words didn’t hurt his soul. He pretended he didn’t want to run to Renzo, hug him close and massage his scalp until he fell asleep. He pretended. “Here.” He doubled two plastic grocery bags and put the containers with food inside before holding it out to Dax. “Rice and peas and stew chicken, with some stew pumpkin and callaloo,” he said without meeting Dax’s eyes. “He likes my sister’s rice and peas. He’ll eat it.”

Dax took the offered bag with a snort. “You hate him, but you’ll feed him?”

“I don’t hate him, Dax.” He sagged back against the counter with a sigh. “I’m angry. I’m disappointed. I’m hurt.” He shook his head. “But I don’t hate Renzo, I could never hate him.”

Dax searched his gaze. “But can you forgive him?” He left without giving Low the chance to answer.

Not that he could.

But he desperately wanted that answer to be yes.

* * *

Silence.

Heavy enough for Renzo to hear his heart pound. Heavy enough to weigh his shoulders down. Dax brought him home after delivering food to him at the club. Food Low sent.

That was a good sign, right? It had to be.

But he was still alone in his empty house, staring down at the pill in his palm. He needed to sleep, even he knew that. He couldn’t keep himself awake anymore, but those nightmares made it so hard. He sat cross legged in his bedroom, facing the lamp on his nightstand.

The light could only hold the darkness at bay for so long.

He wanted to escape.

But every time he closed his eyes he saw Low. The pain in his eyes.

He wanted to undo it. If his lover hurt, it was up to Renzo to soothe him. But he couldn’t even soothe himself right now. He couldn’t pick his ass up off the floor.

Pill in his right hand.

Phone in his left.

Low wouldn’t answer, but his voice. Renzo would hear his voice. Almost a week of not seeing his lover, he had to settle for the outgoing message on his voicemail. Dropping the pill into his lap, he made the call.

It rang once.

“H’lo?”

The sweet pleasure at hearing that sound slammed Renzo’s eyes shut. “Low.” His voice was barely even a thing.

“Renzo.” Low’s tone went from sleepy to alert in a blink. “You don’t sound good. What’s wrong?”

Everything was wrong. Everything. But this, this little sliver was so fucking right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I fucked up, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Low’s breath hitched. “Renzo, it’s after three in the morning.”

“I miss you.” With every inhale. Every beat of his heart. “Talk to me.” He would always beg. He would spend the rest of his days begging. “I’ve got a pill in my fist and so much silence beating at my neck. Talk to me.”

“I miss you, too.” The words were so soft, Renzo had to strain to hear them.

“You’re my everything. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”

“Renzo.”

“Nothing’s right. Nothing’s right without you by my side.”

Low sighed. “Did you eat the food I sent with Dax?”

“I did.” He swallowed. “Thank you.”

“You can’t sleep?”

“No.” Anguish turned his voice choppy. “Not without you.”

“Is Dax with you?”

“I sent him away.”

Low stayed quiet for so long, Renzo feared he’d fallen asleep or ended the call. “Do not drive. Call an Uber. Come to me.”

Renzo’s breath hitched. “Low—”

“Come over.”

He didn’t have to get dressed since he was still fully clothed. With Low still on the phone with him, Renzo grabbed his wallet and keys and hightailed it out the house. He didn’t know what he said to Low in the back of the Uber, he couldn’t remember if Low spoke at all. But he did know that the ride took seventeen minutes.

“I’m outside,” he murmured into the phone when the car pulled up in front of Low’s place. He didn’t wait for the driver to roll to a stop before getting out and running up to the front door.

The door opened and Low was there, in a stretched blue t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and socks. “Come in.”

Renzo did and once the door closed behind him, he swung around to face Low. He was gorgeous. Always so gorgeous. That face, those eyes. He’d grieved them like missing limbs.

“Low.” He took a step forward and Low stood with his back to the door watching him, gaze as hungry as Renzo knew his had to be. “Baby.”

Maybe he tripped and fell. Maybe Low made the first move. Or maybe Renzo did. Either way, he found himself in Low’s arms, in a hug to tight, felt as if he was suffocating.

“Missed you. So sorry,” he murmured against Low’s neck. “Love you so bad.”

Low didn’t speak, but his fingers clawed at Renzo’s back, holding on, pulling him close. They remained in an embrace Renzo absolutely refused to break, until Low lifted his head.

“Come.” He stepped back and grabbed Renzo’s hand, leading him to the couch. He sat first, then patted his lap. Renzo kicked off his shoes, took off his belt, and joined him, lying with his head in Low’s lap and his feet hanging off the arm of the couch.

Rolling until he was on his back, he stared up at Low, letting his gaze caress his lover’s features.

Low touched his head, fingertips pressing lightly on his scalp. Massaging. He tipped his chin down, peering at Renzo. “Tell me what you need.”

“This.” The truth didn’t hurt at all. His truth was that he needed this man in ways he should be scared to admit. But admit it he did. “I need your voice and you skin and your smell.” He turned his face into Low’s belly, inhaling. “This is all I’ll ever want, Low. You and me.”

“Close your eyes.” He brushed at the hair on Renzo’s forehead. “Sleep for me.”

Massaging fingers drawing shiver down the back of Renzo’s neck, his familiar lemon candy scent warming Renzo from the inside out, Low started talking in hushed tones. He talked about growing up in Grenada. About the sound of ripe mangoes falling from the tree in their yard onto their roof. Of rivers overflowing into his backyard when it rained too hard. Of fishermen casting nets and bringing ashore boats filled with a type of fish called jacks. He talked of his grandmother always smelling of nutmeg since she worked in a kind of factory referred to by the locals as the nutmeg pool.

By the time Low got to fried breadfruit and cocoa tea, Renzo’s eyes were closed, his hand was clasped in Low’s and he was asleep.

Of course.

He was home.

Sunlight woke him.

He shifted and found his face pressed up against Low’s stomach. Renzo lifted his head and met Low’s hooded gaze. “Babe—”

“Dax is on his way.” Low cleared his throat. “I called him.”

Renzo froze. “Why?” He searched Low’s eyes, but couldn’t find anything to give him hope. Except Renzo was here, his head in Low’s lap. His fucking drool on his crotch.

“Renzo, please.”

“What?” Renzo rolled off him, dropping to his knees. Ugh. Not a good idea, his body was stiff and achy from lying in the same position all night. “What’s going on?”

“This isn’t—We’re not back together.”

Renzo frowned, floundering. Felt as if he died all over again. “Then why-why am I here?”

“You needed me,” Low said. As if that explained it all.

Maybe it did. “I need you all the time. Not just at fucking night. Not just to sleep.”

Low glanced away just as a horn honked outside. “I know.” He blinked rapidly. “You should go.”

“You’re sending me away?” Renzo stood. “You’re sending me away again, Low?”

“Yes,” Low whispered.

Fuck. Fuck. “What do I have to do? What can I do—”

“This isn’t about you!” Low jumped to his feet, yelling in his face. “It’s about me.” He pounded his chest. “It’s about what I want. What I need.” As quickly as his anger came it disappeared, and the man he loved stood before Renzo deflated once again. “I need you to go, Renzo. Please.”

Outside, Dax honked again.

Renzo stepped into Low’s space until they were nose to nose. “I’m not giving up on you,” he promised in a husky breath. “I’m not giving up on us.” He left while he still could, getting into the car and burrowing into Dax surprised embrace.

“Renzo?” Dax’s hands slid up and down his back. “What happened?”

Renzo just buried his face in Dax’s neck and tried not feel as if he’d lost Low twice.