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16

KAI

M ason insisted on going back to my house the next morning, despite Dana’s very vocal objections. Honestly, I wanted to object too—he shouldn’t have been moving around more than absolutely necessary, even in a car—but at least if we were home, I could try to get a little work done in my office.

After a slow breakfast of donuts from the local shop—Mason had offered to cook, but Dana had pointed at him like an angry god and declared him under strict no-work orders—we piled into my car. I drove. Mason grumbled the whole time about being treated like an invalid.

We hadn’t even been gone a full minute when my phone rang in my pocket. I frowned. I usually kept it on silent, but I’d turned the sound on yesterday to make sure I didn’t miss a call from the hospital.

“Do you need to get that?” Mason asked.

“No, it’s fine,” I said. Whoever it was could wait.

As soon as the ringing stopped, it started up again.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I can get it for you.”

He reached a hand towards my pocket, and I jerked away instinctively.

“Stop,” I said, sharper than I meant to.

“I’m not trying to molest you,” he said dryly. “Just help out.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” I said. “You’re not supposed to be moving that much. It can wait.”

The ringer finally stopped, but then the pings started—one text after another, rapid-fire.

“Whoever it is, it seems like they really want to talk to you,” Mason said. “What if it’s time sensitive? Something to do with your work?”

“Then it can fucking wait.” I didn’t even know why I was so on edge, but I was grateful when he fell silent. Even if my phone kept ringing and chirping away like a goddamn arcade machine. It was driving me as nuts as it clearly was him. I wanted to pull over and check, but I’d already insisted it wasn’t a big deal, and I wasn’t about to backtrack and look like an idiot.

Even once we got home, I didn’t look right away. I helped Mason settle on the couch, walked into the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and only then pulled out my phone.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my stomach plunging through the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Mason’s voice came from behind me as he popped up from the couch like a jack-in-the-box.

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even move. I stared at the screen as the world slowed around me. My chest went hot and tight, my face flushed, and for one terrifying second, I thought I might pass out.

I tossed my phone onto the kitchen island like it had burned me and bent double, hands braced on my knees. That wasn’t enough. I sank to the floor and leaned against the cabinets, tears springing to my eyes.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

“Kai, what happened?” Mason asked, crouching beside me.

“They—they fucking—” My throat closed up. I forced the words out. “They released the video.”

My shoulders started to shake. I didn’t want to cry, but I was hanging on by a thread.

“Oh,” Mason said, so gently it broke me completely.

A sob tore from my chest. He picked up my phone and started scrolling—he could probably see the avalanche I’d been hit with. Three missed calls from Carolyn, plus a flood of texts. A call from Nancy Michaelson. Messages from Amir, Brent, and even Kevin, who made the damn video. Two missed calls from the Butterfly Center board chair. A call from my mom.

I felt sick.

Mason slowly sank down beside me.

“I’m so. Fucking. Stupid.” I buried my face in my hands.

“You’re not stupid,” he said. “You were just young. People will understand.”

“No, they won’t,” I said, my voice cracking. “You think this kind of behavior is acceptable? People are going to call for me to resign. The Butterfly Center won’t want anything to do with me. I’m going to be a pariah. And I don’t even—fuck.” I shook my head. “Even my parents know. So I didn’t only fuck up my life—I dragged them down too.”

“You didn’t fuck up your life,” Mason said softly. Kindly. It made me feel even worse. I started crying in earnest, curled on the kitchen floor like a damn toddler. A pathetic excuse for a man.

At some point, he put his arm around me. I barely noticed until I was crying into his shirt, watching the train wreck of my future unfold in my mind. All of it ruined because of one reckless, stupid mistake I made when I was twenty.

“It’s okay,” Mason murmured again and again. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. All I could think was that I was not only destroying my career, my reputation, my family’s trust—I was ruining any chance I might’ve had with him. Mason was strong. Mason held it together. Mason didn’t fall apart like this.

His arm, which had felt comforting seconds before, now felt like a weight of judgement. I couldn’t take it.

“I—I need to go,” I said, pulling away from him.

He watched as I stood. “Go where? Into work?”

A laugh bubbled out of me—high, brittle, and wrong. Work? Where everyone had probably seen the video by now? Where their CEO was now a punchline?

“No. I—fuck, I can’t do this anymore.”

I turned and headed for the stairs. Mason stood too, following me.

“Kai, wait.” He placed his hand over mine on the bannister. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. I don’t think you should be alone.”

“You think I’m going to kill myself or something?” My voice was high and ragged. I jerked my hand free. “What, and make the story worse? Not only did the CEO of EnviraTech make a sex tape, but he killed himself when people found out?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Leave me alone, Mason. Please.”

“I’m only trying to—”

“Leave me alone,” I snapped, and stormed up the stairs.

I spent the rest of the day in my room. In bed, mostly. I could hear Mason moving around downstairs—probably pushing himself in ways that would make Dana throttle him—but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Texts and calls kept coming in. Most I ignored—friends, acquaintances, people I hadn’t spoken to in years suddenly feeling entitled to check in. Kevin wanted to know if I was the one who released the video and was already threatening legal action. Carolyn had called and texted about a dozen times, begging me to get in touch. My mom called again too, left a voicemail, then sent two follow-up texts that made me want to die.

Eventually, I fell into an anxious, half-conscious sleep full of shifting dreams—something was chasing me, and every time I thought I knew where I was, the scenery changed. When I woke, my head ached, my mouth was dry, and I couldn’t even summon the will to get up.

I didn’t know what time it was when there was a knock at my door.

“Go away, Mason,” I called out.

“You need to eat something,” he said. “It’s six p.m.”

“I’m fine,” I said, knowing I sounded petulant. Knowing it was a lie. “Go away.”

“Not until you eat something.” The door creaked open, and there he was, holding a glass of water and a plastic bag looped over his good arm. “It’s just leftover donuts. But you need the calories.”

“I don’t fucking care,” I said bitterly.

“And I don’t fucking care about you not fucking caring.”

He kicked the door shut behind him and walked over to the side of the bed. He set the water on my nightstand and handed me the bag. I peered inside. He was a liar. It wasn’t just donuts. There were baby carrots, grapes, and a roast beef sandwich wrapped in a napkin.

“You’re not supposed to be on your feet,” I said. “Cooking requires being on your feet.”

“This wasn’t cooking. It was preparing .”

I wanted to argue that he was splitting hairs, but then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I realized we were in the same positions as last night. Only now, I was the one falling apart.

Last night.

Heat crept up my face. I wasn’t embarrassed, exactly. But it felt like that had happened a lifetime ago. Back when my biggest worries were getting Mason to open up. And the stalker. That felt quaint now.

I set the bag on my lap and glanced at him. “So, what? Are you going to sit there and watch me eat?”

“You got a problem with that?” he said. “Because I might be injured, but I could still take you.”

He gave me a crooked smile to show he was joking, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“Have you called anyone back yet?” he asked, back to brisk, no-nonsense Mason. Comfort-mode deactivated. I was grateful. I couldn’t handle softness right now.

“No,” I said, digging into the bag.

I wondered how much I had to eat to make him leave. I grabbed a grape and popped it into my mouth. The sweetness exploded on my tongue, and I chased it with a long drink of water. I expected Mason to smirk or say something smug, but he just nodded.

“Did you at least read their texts?”

I sighed. Looked like I wasn’t getting out of this without giving a report. “Yeah. Not that they’re helpful. Most want to know if it’s really me. A few are supportive, but then there are the freaks coming out of the woodwork to gloat.”

“What about work? What did Carolyn say?”

“Nothing useful. She wants me to call her so we can figure out a statement.”

“That doesn’t sound unhelpful. Sounds like she’s doing her job.”

“Yeah, well, she’s probably disgusted with me underneath it all.”

“Kai, I met her. She seems to genuinely like you. I’m sure that’s not what she’s thinking.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And neither do you.” He paused. “What about your parents?”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Same deal. My mom says they still love me, but I need to call them because my dad’s going to have to make a statement. And she thinks she knows some people in the press who could help.”

“How is that a bad thing? You should call her. Maybe they can help.”

I dropped my hand. “What, no lectures about how privileged I am?”

“This isn’t the time. And they’re your parents. Of course they want to help. You should use every tool available.”

“I feel so fucking stupid,” I said, growling low in my throat. “I was so reckless. You must think I’m pathetic.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you’d never let something like this happen. And if it did, you wouldn’t fall apart.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “You think I don’t fall apart? When things get hard?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never seen it. Maybe you’ve never done anything this idiotic. God, I wish I could go back and smack my younger self.”

“You’re not the one to blame here. If anyone is, it’s me. I was the one convinced I could handle this.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said sharply. “I’m the one who put it online.”

“And you’re also the one who took it down. It’s not your fault someone’s targeting you.”

I shook my head. “Thing is, I don’t even think making the video was morally wrong. It was stupid, but it wasn’t evil.”

“So say that. Make that your statement. Say you were young, you regret it, you’ve moved on. Celebrities deal with sex tape scandals all the time.”

“I can’t,” I snapped. “You don’t get it. You’re straight. When you’re gay or trans or whatever, people are always waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting to tear you down. You think they’ll let this go? Some fag with a sex tape wants to open a youth center? I’ll get accused of grooming, or worse. I’m surprised it hasn’t started already.”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” He slid onto the bed beside me and pulled me into him—and that’s when I realized I was shaking.

“It’s not okay,” I said. “I could lose everything.”

“You won’t. But even if you do, you can start again.”

“I don’t want to start again. I liked my life. I was doing good things with my money. Now no one will touch me.”

I was too exhausted to cry again, but my body shook anyway. I let Mason hold me, even if it felt like pity. I didn’t want to be alone.

We stayed like that for a while, pressed together in silence. Eventually, Mason said, “You’re right that I don’t understand. But for the record, I don’t think I’m straight.”

I pulled away to look at him. I hadn’t expected that admission. I’d figured he was more of a do it in secret and deny it to your face kind of guy.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh.” I tilted my head. “Your first time with a guy, and you’re already rethinking everything?”

He laughed. “Who says you were my first time?”

I blinked at him. “Wait—I’m not?”

Something bloomed in my chest, sour and sharp. Not shame. Not even frustration. Jealousy.

Some other guy had gotten to be Mason’s first. Some other guy had been there before me. When Mason thought about being with a man, it wasn’t only me he thought about.

“I told you I was in the Marines,” he said, like that explained everything.

“Yeah, but you never mentioned…that. Do you have, like, an ex-boyfriend or something?”

“No, nothing like that. It was never emotional. Just physical. You’re cooped up, far from home, no one knows what you’re going through except the people around you. Sometimes you need a release. It never meant anything.”

The words landed like a punch to the gut. Never meant anything. That’s how he saw us too, didn’t he?

“Is that why you never talk about your time in the military?” I asked. “You don’t want people to know?”

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s different.”

“Different how?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then lay back against the pillows and stared at the far wall.

“I told you I enlisted for the money. That’s true. But I also had these ideas about honor and service. Helping people. I knew I wasn’t that smart, and I think I was trying to push down what I remembered from high school. But I also knew I wasn’t a nice guy. I thought if I signed up, maybe I could make up for some of that. Spread democracy, help stabilize war-torn regions, make it possible for girls to go to school and their parents to have clean water.”

He made a disgusted sound in his throat and shook his head. “You want to talk about stupid? I was the one who was stupid. I bought into their whole spiel about being a force for good. Swallowed it whole. I was a dumb kid who wanted to matter and didn’t think it through.”

“Was it really that bad?” I asked, a wave of unexpected compassion rising up so deep and wide I thought it might drown me.

“Not all of it,” he said, still staring at the wall. “But all sorts of people join up. And some of them are men—because it’s almost always men—who should never be handed power and a weapon.”

“Oh,” I said softly.

“My last tour, we were in—” He cut himself off. “I can’t actually tell you. It’s classified. But one of my men—Pete—he seemed like a good guy at first. Easy to talk to. But he started getting paranoid. Power-tripping. We were in this village where there were supposed to be insurgents. But the intel was wrong. It was just a regular village. People trying to survive.”

He closed his eyes. “But Pete was convinced they were hiding something. Someone. And he thought…” He swallowed. “He thought the way to get the truth was to threaten to shoot their kids.”

“Jesus,” I said. “That’s awful.”

“I didn’t even realize he’d disappeared,” Mason said. “We were going over mission plans, trying to find the safest route back to base. And Pete wandered off. Rounded up some kids. Started pointing his gun at them. I didn’t know he was gone until I heard the first shot.”

“Oh God.” My chest seized up. “He didn’t—”

“He shot two kids before I got there. One was still alive, barely. But there was so much blood. People screaming. Pete firing everywhere. That kid… She died in my arms.”

“Oh, Mason. I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve realized sooner. Should’ve known he was close to snapping. I thought he was in control. And I never thought—” He stopped, tears pooling in his eyes as he rubbed at them with a fist. “I should’ve stopped him.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have,” he said, his voice firm. “No one should’ve died that day. But I wasn’t paying enough attention. I was too sure of my own judgement.” He finally looked at me. “Don’t you see? This is what I do. I let people down. Let them get hurt. Killed. Because of my pride.”

“That wasn’t your fault. What happened to those kids—that wasn’t you. You didn’t pull the trigger.”

“I might as well have. It happened on my watch. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said again, voice firm. “Mason, you’re a good man.”

“I’m not. You, of all people, should know that. I was a piece of shit in high school and I’ve been a piece of shit ever since.”

“Oh, Mason.”

I pulled him into my arms and held him close. Had he really been comforting me a few minutes ago? That felt like another universe. All that mattered now was the man shaking quietly in my arms.

Mason didn’t sob like I had. He didn’t even make a sound. His tears just slipped out, silent and steady. But he didn’t push me away. And when I shifted us so we were lying down, he clung tight, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

We lay there as the light outside faded. Dusk turned to dark, and at some point, I fell asleep again.

When I woke, Mason was shifting beside me. Sitting up. Trying to slide out of bed without waking me. The room was dim, a sliver of moonlight cutting across the floor.

“Mason,” I said, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He looked back at me. “Go to sleep, Kai. I’m just going down to the couch. You’ll be fine.”

“No.” I didn’t know how I knew, but I did—I needed Mason with me. Tonight. And every night after. “Stay.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t.”

I tugged on the hem of his T-shirt, fingers fisting it. He laid his hand over mine, like he was going to gently peel my grip off.

“I need you.”

“Kai, we can’t keep doing this.”

I saw the indecision on his face. I knew I shouldn’t ask for this. Knew it wouldn’t mean the same thing for him as it did for me. I should have told him to go.

Instead, I whispered, “Please,” and Mason leaned in and kissed me.

His lips were firm and warm as they slid over mine. The kiss felt secret. Not shameful, but like we were under a spell that might break if either of us spoke. I thought he could feel it too. We could have this moment, give into this tonight, as long as neither of us shattered the hot, heavy silence that hung around us.

I pushed him down on the bed, trying to be gentle. I would have loved to feel his weight on top of me, but with his injuries, I rolled him onto his back instead. His right arm was out of commission, but he used his left to pull me down and kiss my neck.

I braced myself on my elbows, trying not to put any weight on his ribs. But soon the situation was out of control. I needed more than kissing. I pushed back and peeled off my shirt, then my pants and briefs. There was no time to be seductive or flirtatious. I needed Mason now.

I tugged his clothes off next. I left his shirt on, but stripped him of everything else, before climbing back onto him. I straddled his hips and stroked my cock alongside his. Fuck, the man was gorgeous, even with a sling and a black eye and a half-healed cut on his face.

He moaned in appreciation of my hand, but soon he was tugging me down again. I wanted to ask if it was too much, but I was afraid to speak, afraid that would break the enchantment. So I bent down and kissed him again—then inhaled sharply as he brought his good hand to his mouth and licked his fingers.

I thought he just wanted to be the one who jerked us off, but instead he brought his hand to my ass, sliding his fingers down the crack between my cheeks. I gasped as he reached my hole.

He looked up, a silent question in his eyes, and I nodded. Yes, he could keep going. Yes, please keep going. Fuck.

I shifted, sitting up on my knees and crawling forward so he didn’t have to reach so far. His first finger inside me was heaven. Surely he hadn’t done this overseas.

I’d assumed that was only hand jobs, maybe the occasional blow job. But then, Mason did say he wasn’t straight. So…maybe he wanted this as much as I did? Even if it was just physical. I’d accept anything, if it meant keeping him in bed with me.

The angle was still a little awkward, but even so, his fingers felt amazing, insistent, teasing, probing, and pushing me open. I put a hand on his shoulder, then reached over to the nightstand and pulled lube out of the drawer.

Mason grinned. I bit my lip and held up a condom, wondering how he would react. But his grin just widened. My stomach turned a somersault.

I needed more prep before I was ready—his cock was not small—so I slicked my own fingers, then reached back to work myself open. His lips parted, and he stared at me hungrily as my fingers slipped in and out. He began stroking my cock, and I had to push his hand away, or I was going to come before he even got inside me.

I needed his help opening the condom packet—my fingers were way too slippery now—but eventually, I got it unrolled onto his cock. My stomach turned another somersault as I covered him in lube. He was going to be inside me in a minute, stretching me out gloriously.

I shifted again, bringing the tip of his cock to my hole, then sat down. Fuck, it felt good. His head breached my tight outer ring, then slid inside with a satisfying feel of girth. A little moan escaped my mouth, and I bit my lip as I pushed more of him inside me.

He fit like a sword sliding into its sheath, like my body was made to hold him. I moaned as I bottomed out, reveling in the glorious fullness of being stuffed with cock again. And not just any cock—Mason’s.

I had to stop and breathe for a bit, but soon I was moving, sliding on and off of his cock, inch by inch. Mason groaned and growled underneath me, his hand still on my cock. How had it taken us so long to get to this point, when it felt like the most natural, most right thing in the world?

I panted, trying to keep a hold of myself, but I could already feel my orgasm building. It felt inevitable, like this had been growing since the night I found Mason on my doorstep. Like this pleasure was fated from day one.

It didn’t help that Mason was looking up at me with lust-shot eyes, his pupils huge in the twilight of the room, his mouth parted, his hips rocking up into me. His hand kept working my cock, and I knew I couldn’t last any longer. Everything inside me tightened, a fire building deep in my core. My hips stuttered as I sank back onto his cock, feeling him deep inside me.

“Kai,” he whispered, and the sound of my name on his tongue pushed me over the edge.

Pleasure exploded through my body, coursing along every nerve, lighting up every synapse, bathing every atom of my being. I came, splashing into his hand and onto his stomach. He kept stroking me until I was spent.

I wanted to lie down and bask in the languid looseness I felt through my entire body, but more than that, I wanted Mason to feel as good as I did. So I kept sinking up and down on his cock, squeezing my asshole tight as I pulled off, then relaxing it to welcome him back in. A moment later, he pulled me back down, and I felt his cock twitch inside me as he came too.

He draped an arm over my back, holding me to his chest. I braced on my elbows again, trying not to crush him, but he didn’t seem to care. We lay like that for a long time, our chests rising and falling, breath mingling in the dark. Only when I felt my sweat starting to grow cold did I push up and pull off.

I threw the condom in the trash, then handed Mason some tissues and grabbed a few for myself. When I glanced back at him, he was sitting up, and looked like he was thinking about leaving again. But I didn’t want that. We could deal with consequences in the morning, but couldn’t we have this stolen night together?

“We don’t have to do anything,” I said. “But would you please stay? Just sleep here?”

His eyes met mine, and I saw something in them I couldn’t name. Fear, maybe. But what could he be afraid of? Didn’t he know by now I didn’t judge him?

I slid into bed and tugged on his good arm. Slowly, he nodded, and lay down next to me on his back. I pulled the blanket over us and curled up against his good side.

Sleep came quickly.