They’d done a number on him. They could have done worse. “Damn it.”

Quickly, he rinsed his mouth with water. Ben ignored the pain, held onto the counter as he turned on the water in the shower.

He fought with himself, struggling out of the clothes before taking a piss and then climbing into the stall and closing the door. As if Dante had known he wasn’t in yet and had been waiting, the bathroom door slid open.

Dante didn’t speak as he set clothes and a towel on the counter before leaving.

Ben could have lived in that shower. He let the burning hot water pelt his skin. It stung, but relaxed his muscles at the same time. When it turned cold, he stepped out. When he did, he saw that Dante left an unopened travel toothbrush on the counter.

Brushing his teeth almost made up for the fact that he hadn’t had an orgasm in almost two weeks. Afterward he pulled on the sweatpants and T-shirt Dante left him. Balled his clothes up and put them in the bag left on the counter and took the five steps from the bathroom to the living room, which was also the kitchen and dining room. Just one large space that made up all of his apartment other than the bathroom, hall and bedroom.

“There’s tomato soup and grilled cheese on the table. You probably won’t be able to eat much but you need to try.” Dante sat on the couch with a laptop on his lap and his socked feet on the coffee table. The apartment looked almost as empty as Ben felt. Beside where Dante sat there was a small TV stand with a flat screen TV about the size of Ben’s computer screen. A two person table in the dining room and nothing on the walls.

“Been here long?” he asked.

“Eat,” was Dante’s only reply.

Ben didn’t move for a second as words teased his tongue. Who was Dante to issue him orders? But then his stomach growled. He needed food. He wanted to eat so Ben let it go, walked over to the table, set his bag down and then sat himself.

He didn’t understand why Dante was doing this.

He didn’t understand why he was letting him.

But Dante did and Ben was.

He blew on the soup and swallowed a spoonful. “You aren’t drugging me again, are you?”

Dante chuckled. It was the first time Ben heard a laugh from him. He didn’t doubt that Dante had never heard one from Ben either.

“No.” But that was all he said. Ben’s stomach was ravenous for food but he struggled to eat at the same time. He managed to force down half of the grilled cheese and about the same amount of the soup.

He didn’t know where his phone was, which meant he had no idea of the time. The rest of the room was as dimly lit as Dante’s bedroom. It was the middle of the night, that much he could tell. Twenty-four hours, he had to have been in this man’s apartment for about twenty-four hours.

He should thank him but Ben didn’t. Instead he asked, “Working?”

“Yes. I’m in graphic design.” Dante’s near-black eyes didn’t meet Ben.

“I’m a defense attorney.”

At that, Dante’s head shot up. He cocked a brow. “No shit?”

Ben wasn’t sure why that was so surprising. “Yes. One of the best in the state.” Why the fuck was he defending himself? “I’m on leave right now, though.”

Dante nodded at that but still didn’t speak. He didn’t look away either. This man hated himself. Why, Ben found himself wondering? What was in his past that made him feel the same way Ben did?

“I should go.” Ben pushed to his feet too quickly and got knocked for a loop by another round of dizziness.

“Sit down,” Dante told him.

Ben shook his head.

“Sit down,” Dante ordered again and Ben found himself sitting. His legs didn’t want to hold him up anymore. He was still exhausted. He had no idea how long he slept but he was still tired as hell. “What did you give me to help me sleep?” Because he needed it. It silenced the nightmares and stopped the visions, at least for a little while.

Dante didn’t answer right away. He set his laptop on the couch and then stood. His abs flexed as he did, the lines and dips of his six-pack on display. Damn, he had a gorgeous body.

Dante walked over, and stopped right in front of him. He grabbed Ben’s chin between his first finger and thumb.

“What the fuck?” Ben jerked his head but Dante didn’t let go.

“I won’t give you more. I shouldn’t have even given you that. You can sleep here the rest of the night. Go home tomorrow.” He let go of Ben’s face, but he still felt it, the lingering press of Dante’s fingers.