feel powerful.’
Eric blanched, but he made no move to tell Rocco what it was James said, which meant it was an insult. ‘Come home, Rocco. Stop being an asshole and just come home.’
Rocco scoffed. ‘I am home.’
Eric’s look was one of disbelief, and he rolled his eyes. ‘This is some shitty little hick town in the middle of nowhere. Our condo…’
‘My condo,’ Rocco corrected. ‘My condo in Malibu, my cottage on Coronado. My name, my homes. I’m selling them, Xander is fired, and I’m through with you both. Enjoy your engagement.’ He glanced down and saw Eric’s bare hand. ‘Or not.’
Eric’s cheeks were flaming, splotchy red. ‘I didn’t want him. I was trying to make you jealous. I was so tired of you not giving a shit about me.’
‘I still don’t give a shit about you,’ Rocco said. It was time—it was time to be hurtful with honesty, because he was in love with Simon and he didn’t care what happened after, so long as Simon was with him. ‘I’m in love with someone else.’
‘That chubby guy with freckles? The one you want to film with? Some UCLA drop-out whose business is going under?’
Rocco became profoundly aware of how far Xander had been able to dig into Simon’s background before he cut Xander’s access to his email. ‘He had no right to my personal information once I fired him. I hope he enjoys the lawsuit. I hope you both do—since you were also no longer employed by me when you went into Simon’s personal information.’
‘Precious?’ Eric signed.
Rocco couldn’t help his grin as he spelled Simon’s name, then signed it again. ‘He is everything to me—everything you never could be. I’m through. And I’m sorry you never felt like you were enough. That was proof we should have stayed broken up years ago. The first time.’
Eric’s eyes went wide and watery. ‘Rocco…’
“No!” He slashed his hand through the air, felt his frustrated grunt rip up his throat. ‘I can’t. We’re done. Please just go home and pack and move on.’
‘Are you really going to sue me?’ Eric asked. He looked scared now—and it was obvious. He and Xander had fucked up. And they knew it.
‘Yes,’ Rocco said, and he felt no remorse. Eric had been bleeding him dry for years—had broken up with him and crawled back, and treated him like shit, then begged for forgiveness all because Rocco had been providing. He was not a boyfriend—he was never a boyfriend. He was a bottomless meal ticket. ‘Sell the Porsche and buy an apartment. I don’t care. But leave.’
Turning on his heel, Rocco walked away from him and found James standing near the front doors. He came to a stop a bit closer than he normally would have, then leaned his head in. “Is he still behind me?”
James glanced over Rocco’s shoulder, then shook his head.
Rocco let out a breath, then dragged a hand down his face as he turned it up toward the sky. The sun was behind the clouds now—heavy and dark with rain. “Thank you. I’m sorry to drag you into that.”
James touched his arm, then shook his head again.
“What did you say to him that pissed him off?”
At that, James laughed, then dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. ‘I said I know who you are. Eric the choad, the guy too terrible in bed to make it as a porn star so he had to fuck one to live his dreams.’
Rocco laughed hard—mostly out of stress, and relief, and acceptance. He laid a hand on James’ shoulder. “Thank you,” he said again.
James squeezed Rocco’s wrist, then typed, ‘Simon and I are working on our relationship, but I like you. You’re good for him. I hope it works out.’
‘Me too,’ Rocco signed back, mouthing the words. He took his cart from James, and appreciated that the man didn’t follow him to his car. He needed the moment to regroup. He still felt like crying—which was new. He hadn’t cried once during the mess with Eric and Xander, but nearly losing Simon over it had him damn close.
Swallowing thickly, he loaded the bags into his car, then sat behind the wheel and breathed until he could take air into his lungs without choking on it. After a beat, he grabbed his phone to send Simon a quick text.
Rocco: b there soon.
Simon: Good. I can’t wait.
Chapter Twenty-One
Simon wanted to pretend like he had even a modicum of chill, but he was trying his best not to lie.