Trained By My Girlfriend's Dad: A M/M Straight To Gay First Time Romance

by Charlotte Storm

  “Sir,” Jordan says when Julie steps away.

  He takes my hand, grip firm, like he had earlier today at the barbeque. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about Jordan. He’s a confident kid. Now a man. He doesn’t fuck around, and he loves the hell out of my daughter. Saw that when they were still in high school.

  I’m glad Julie found her way back to him. I’m even more glad she brought home Dominic.

  “Thank you for bringing her,” I say to Jordan. To them both I say, “But you didn’t have to come. There’s nothing you can do. I’ll wait here until we hear something, and I’ll let you know.”

  Julie gives me the strangest look, one I can’t decipher. “Why would you stay, Dad? You barely even know Dominic. You should go, take care of your car, get some rest. I’m the one who brought him home with me to San Diego, against your wishes. I should be the one who stays, at least until his parents can fly in.”

  Damn. I hadn’t thought about what this would look like from Julie’s perspective. Of course it makes sense to her that I should go. Why would I want to stay? She doesn’t know Dominic is my sub. Doesn’t know I’ve fallen for her ex.

  And I have fallen for him. Being faced with the reality that I could lose him makes that point crystal fucking clear.

  I open my mouth to tell her—fuck, I have no idea.

  “Mr. Cole?”

  The woman’s voice isn’t familiar, but it’s tired in the same way I am.

  “That’s me.”

  A shorter woman, appearing to be in her fifties, wearing a white lab coat, approaches me, hand extended. I take it, then take the seat she points at.

  “I’m Dr. Patel, Mr. Castro’s surgeon.”

  “Is he okay?” I ask, trying my damndest to keep all emotion from my tone. It isn’t only for my daughter’s sake, either. If I step one toe over that line, I’ll lose it.

  “He’s in recovery now, in an induced coma. He sustained massive internal injuries. Head trauma. Two broken ribs. A shattered right ankle, and a right leg compound tibial fibular fracture.”

  Julie gasps and covers her mouth, then turns into Jordan, who is there, ready to hold her. I want to do the same for Dominic. Take him in my arms, take away all of the pain and damage I caused.

  “Healing will take months,” the doctor continues. “A full recovery could take a year or longer. He’ll need care, and physical therapy once he can walk again. Luckily, there was no spinal damage. Now, I’m not sure of Mr. Castro’s financial situation. But someone with his type of injuries needs proper care, or the damage could affect him for the rest of his life.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” I say. “You tell me exactly what we need to do.”

  Dr. Patel pats my knee. “Mr. Castro is lucky to have family who cares for him.”

  At that statement, Julie’s head pops up from Jordan’s chest. She glances my way.

  Dr. Patel stands. I stand with her. “I’ll write out thorough instructions on his paperwork, make sure you get a copy.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done. For saving him.” Those last three words are nearly impossible to get out. Not while I choke back the wave of relief, guilt, and hope threatening to drown me. “Can I see him now?”

  Dr. Patel gives me a tired smile. “Sure, but he won’t be responsive. I’m not sure how long we’ll keep him under. Hopefully, only a few days. He needs rest, needs to heal. You need rest, too, Mr. Cole.”

  “I’ll stay here,” I say, before I can stop myself.

  I can feel Julie’s sharp gaze boring into me. It’s why I don’t look her way.

  “Okay,” the doctor says. “I’ll have a nurse bring you to him in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, again.” I shake her hand, then take a seat to wait for the nurse.

  “Family?” Julie questions once the doctor is gone.

  I shrug, still don’t meet her gaze. If I do, she’ll see everything I’ve been hiding from her.

  “I had to tell them something,” I say. “Do you really think they would speak to me if I told them I’m his ex-girlfriend’s father?”

  She huffs out a breath. “No. Guess not. Still, what are you going to say when his real family arrives?”

  The nurse comes out, waves me over.

  I stand. “I’ll deal with it then.”

  Julie catches my arm when I brush past her to join the nurse. She’s strong, her grip tight enough to turn me her direction. She takes after me, after all.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asks. It’s the simplest question. One with devastating consequences. “The truth, Dad.”

  I look her in the eyes, let them tell her what my mouth can’t.

  She hisses and lets go of my arm. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you? Training him?”

  Jordan takes a step away from us, and wisely keeps his mouth shut.

  “Keep your goddamn voice down,” I say to my daughter, instead of admitting my guilt.

  I’m done hiding from her. If she hates me, she hates me. It won’t be forever, and I can only fix one relationship at a time.

  “How could you do this?” she whisper shouts with enough venom to down an elephant. “He’s my ex, Dad! Did you not care how this would make me feel?”

  “Sir?” The nurse calls to me. I need to go with her. Don’t want to miss my chance to see Dominic.

  Julie wants answers. I give her the most direct one I can think of. One that gets right to the fucking point.

  “It isn’t just training. I’m in love with him, Julie-bug. I won’t lose him like I lost Mason.”

  Saying she’s stunned doesn’t begin to cover the nature of her surprise. Her eyes widen. Mouth opens. Nothing comes out, not even a breath.

  “I love you, and I’m sorry. We’ll talk about this later. I’m going with the nurse. I need to see him.”

  Her eyes flick to the nurse, then back to me.

  “I love you,” I say.

  I kiss her on the cheek. She lets me. “I love you, too. But you fucked up, and I am not okay with this. Jordan and I will go back to your house, wait for you there.”

  She squeezes my hand once before letting go and flicking her chin in the direction of the nurse. The timing of me telling her about Dominic is terrible. Not that there’d ever be a good time. The best I can hope for is a level head from both of us when we finally do talk about it.

  Chapter 25

  Dominic

  I have no idea where the hell I am, or why everything hurts so much.

  My eyelids are heavy. Cement shoes at the bottom of the lake heavy. I don’t even consider trying to move my arms or legs.

  The beeping is the next thing I notice, followed by an itching under the surface of my skin, at the end of every nerve.

  I blink a few times to clear my vision. It’s blurry at first, then snaps into focus. I lay there for long moments, stare at an unfamiliar ceiling.

  “You’re finally awake.”

  The familiar voice is soothing. I’m surprised to hear it.

  “Ju-Julie?”

  Ow. Fuck. My throat is dry. It hurts to speak, like it’s something I haven’t done in a while.

  She stands over me, grabs my hand. I don’t feel her touch like I expect to, as if my senses are muted somehow. She’s warm, at least. I shiver at the realization of how cold I am.

  There’s a blanket at the end of the bed that she puts over me. Then she sits on the edge of the bed, and takes my hand again.

  “Where am I?” I manage to ask.

  “You’re in the hospital.”

  “Hospital?” I glance around the small, unfamiliar room. “Why am I here?”

  I try to sit up straight. The moment I do, my entire body comes to life. No, that isn’t quite right. It’s more like my muscles and tendons catch fire. I may cry out. And I may be in too much pain to care.

  Julie presses a button attached to the bed. A few seconds later, a calming sensation spreads through me, and the pain subsides.

  “Morphine.” She quir
ks her lip. “Good shit, yeah?”

  My head falls back onto the pillow, my mouth unable to answer.

  “You probably shouldn’t try to move.”

  “No shit,” I mutter.

  “Do you remember anything about the accident?” she asks. “I’ll take it by the look on your face that’s a no. Can’t blame you. You almost died. They had you in an induced coma for three days. And you’ve been sleeping on your own for two. I wouldn’t remember, either. Wouldn’t want to.”

  “What happened?” I manage to ask.

  “You sure you’re up for this conversation?” she asks.

  I eye the water pitcher. She gets my meaning and pours me a cup. She even helps me drink it. I feel better afterwards. I mean, I still feel like shit, but I’m at least coherent enough to talk. Plus, I want to know what happened.

  “Yeah,” I say, jutting my chin at all of the tubes running from my body to various machines and apparati. “Doesn’t look like I have plans to go anywhere anytime soon.”

  “You totalled my dad’s Audi.”

  The Audi. The coyote. The stupid water bottle. The tree. Now I remember.

  “Did I hurt anyone?” I ask, that worry cutting through the haze of just waking up, and whatever strong drugs they have me on.

  “Just yourself.”

  “I’m sorry to put you through this,” I say, and I am sorry. More than she’ll ever know.

  “Put me through what?” she asks, using the same tone as when she was about to start a fight when we dated. “You almost dying, or you fucking my dad?”

  A heated sensation spreads through my body, having nothing to do with the morphine or my injuries. Julie stands, heads toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  She sighs and runs her hand through her hair. She looks so much like Darryl when she does that. “We can talk later. Now isn’t a good time.”

  There won’t ever be a good time. “Stay,” I grunt out as a sharp pain spikes through my...hell, my everywhere. “I owe you an explanation, and I don’t want you to leave mad.”

  She turns to face me. “Dom, I’m beyond mad, and I’m not sure there’s anything you can do to fix that.”

  “I know. I fucked up. Fucked us up. You deserve to say what’s on your mind.”

  She steps over to my bed, adjusts my pillow, and makes sure I’m comfortable before she takes her seat. Even now, she’s caring in a way she doesn’t have to be. “Fine. You wanna know what’s on my mind? I can’t fucking believe you are having ass sex with my dad behind my back.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again, feeling stupid and small. Those two words don’t touch the amount of guilt within.

  Her cheeks flush pink, and she bites so hard on her lip I think she might draw blood. “What the actual fuck, Dom?”

  She stands, paces the small room, rubs her hands together.

  “I mean, I don’t get it. Were you gay the whole time we dated?”

  “I’m not gay.”

  She rounds on me, eyes wide, lips pressed thin. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You’ve done enough lying.”

  “I’m not lying.” I huff out a breath, try and think of a way to explain. “I’ve never considered myself to be gay. Never thought about men when you and I dated. Or at any time before that. I thought I liked women. Thought that was how life was supposed to go.”

  “I spent so much time thinking there was something wrong with me,” she says, her bottom lip quivering. “Toward the end, when you didn’t want to touch me much. Or have sex. I thought I’d done something wrong. That you didn’t want me.”

  “Julie.” I try and reach out my hand, but the pain emanating from my ribcage prevents me from moving. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There never was. You were the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

  “Then why did you do it, Dom?” Her voice cracks on my name. Tears spill down her cheeks.

  “I had no idea when I met him that this would happen,” I admit. “What I would discover about myself. I wish it wasn’t him, but I don’t see how it could’ve been anyone but him.”

  Julie scoffs, wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know we just broke up, but that’s cool because I want to start dating your dad?’”

  “My dad doesn’t date,” she says. “He trains. He does his dominant thing. BDSM. Whatever. He doesn’t get attached, and he doesn’t fall in love.”

  The fresh wound of that truth hurts worse than whatever’s going on with my ribs and my right leg.

  “Yeah. I know he doesn’t,” I say, staring at my broken body. At least bones can heal. I’m not sure my heart ever will. “That’s probably why he isn’t here.”

  I mean to say the last under my breath. But the pain killers coursing through my veins make it difficult to control the volume.

  Julie stops pacing and stares at me, as if she’s trying to see something, but can’t quite. “Don’t do that. Don’t take from him the credit he deserves. He’s been here for five days. Straight. From the moment you came out of surgery, he’s been by your side. He’s slept here, eaten hospital food, and made sure you’ve received the best medical care his money can buy.”

  I’m not sure how to feel about her confession. Why would Darryl do that? He’d made it extremely clear he didn’t want me in his life. That I was just another sub.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I say. “Your dad kicked me out of the house before you and Jordan came over. Told me I should plan on leaving for school as scheduled, move on with my life after that.”

  Julie stares out the window with a view of the parking structure. “You don’t know him like I do. Didn’t see him when he lost the love of his life. I was a young teenager then, but I was old enough to know my father changed after the accident. I remember being terrified I was going to lose him, too. I’ll never forget the look he wore when he thought I wasn’t around to see him cry.”

  “I’m sorry for that pain. That either of you had to suffer,” I offer, the best I can do given the circumstance.

  “It was the same look on his face in the waiting room, before your surgeon told him you survived surgery. He can’t live without you, Dom.”

  She sits back on the edge of the bed, takes my hand in hers.

  “He loves you. Like seriously fucking loves you. Though I’m pissed at you both for lying, I’m not going to be the person to take that from him. He deserves a second chance at happiness. And he deserves it with you.”

  She leans over, kisses my forehead, and stares down at me. “Besides, I’m head-over-heels with Jordan. Have been falling for him since before we broke up. Maybe it’s my karma you end up with my dad. My father’s a good man, Dom. Treat him better than you did me.”

  I have no idea what to say, so I say nothing. It was always the best decision when we were dating. Don’t see any reason why it wouldn’t be smart now. Besides, there’s no good way to tell Julie she’s wrong. Darryl doesn’t love me. He loves the memory of a ghost. The memory of a partner he placed on a pedestal.

  I’ll never measure up to that.

  “Hey, Julie-bug.”

  Darryl’s voice rumbles through the room. Sends chills down my spine, completely unrelated to the medicine.

  Julie squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you’re awake, Dom. Glad you didn’t die.”

  A small chuckle escapes, followed by a wave of nauseating pain. Darryl moves toward me, then stops, as if he isn’t sure he should. I want him to, and I don’t want him to.

  Once the pain passes, I tell Julie, “I’m glad, too.”

  She lets go of my hand and faces her dad. “He’s all yours.”

  Those three words hold so much truth, and pain no medication can touch.

  Chapter 26

  Darryl

  Dominic’s eyes never leave mine as I cross the room and sit in the chair next to his bed.

  The silence between us stretches into discomfort. For me, at least. I
’m not sure he’d notice something so insignificant against the backdrop of pain I know he’s in.

  The look on his face when he laughed? I thought I was the one with my insides broken. Twisted. I’d trade places with him if I could.

  “It’s stupid for me to ask how you feel,” I finally say after I’ve had enough.

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a tree.” He winces, tries to adjust himself on the bed. I want so fucking bad to help him. I don’t. “I’m sorry about your car. I should’ve never taken it. I-I’ll figure out a way to pay for it, or maybe insurance—”

  “I don’t care about the fucking car, Dominic.” The words come out harsher than I intend. Everything about his situation has me on edge.

  “What do you care about, then?” he asks.

  I scoot the chair closer, lean in, and grab his hand. Fuck it. If he doesn’t want me to touch him, he can tell me to back off. “You. I care about you.”

  “Do you?” His voice breaks on those two simple words.

  Damn. Here goes everything.

  “No. I don’t care.”

  Dominic’s eyes darken, along with his mood.

  “I don’t care,” I forge on, not letting him sit in that emotion too long, “because care isn’t the right word. What I feel for you is so much more than that.”

  He doesn’t say anything, only looks at me with the same questioning expression he typically wears.

  “I’m sorry I kicked you out,” I say. “Sorry I let you leave angry. I went about it all wrong. Went about everything all wrong.”

  “You weren’t wrong,” he says, voice dry and strained. “You told me like it is. You’ve always been clear about my role. About yours. I was the one who fucked it up with expectations that things could be different.”

  “They are different,” I say, in the hopes he’ll understand where I’m trying to go.

  He shakes his head. “No. They aren’t. You’re the dom. I’m the sub.” He stares down at his legs, at the hospital bed. “I was the sub. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble replacing me.”

  “I don’t want a replacement,” I practically growl. Why is he making this so damn difficult? “I want you.”