Page 19

19

MASON

I didn’t sleep well—again. It didn’t make sense. I was supposed to feel better after talking everything out with Kai. Only, it hadn’t gone the way I expected.

I thought he’d be hurt, or mad, or both. Call me an asshole, a traitor. Say all the awful things I’d been telling myself for years.

But he didn’t. He refused. He insisted on being kind. Told me I was a good person. It felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

Because of that—and about a dozen other reasons—I barely slept. When I finally dragged myself out of bed the next morning, I had a headache throbbing behind my eyes. I was making coffee in the kitchen, Bella trailing after me like she thought she’d get a cup if she looked cute enough, when I heard voices outside the house.

Frowning, I walked into the living room and peeked out one of the front windows. A guy with curly brown hair stood on the sidewalk, a phone on a selfie stick pointed at the house. Next to him, a blonde woman in a shell-pink blouse and khakis held a microphone while another woman recorded her with a video camera.

"What the fuck?" I whispered.

"What? What’s wrong?"

I turned to see Kai coming down the stairs, hair wet, towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes sharpened immediately.

"I thought I heard something," he said, hurrying the rest of the way down. "Is everything okay? Another rat?"

"No," I said slowly. "It’s not that. But I think there are reporters outside."

"Shit."

He moved to the window and peered through the blinds. The fresh, herbal scent of his shampoo hit me, and for a moment I had to fight not to flash back to yesterday afternoon—his office, his mouth on mine, his hands. God, I wanted him. Still did. But I couldn’t let myself go there.

At least Kai seemed on board now, even if he still hadn’t technically accepted our breakup. He’d see I was right in the end, though.

I reminded myself that I had to keep my distance. He wasn’t doing this on purpose—obviously he hadn’t planned for the reporters—but standing this close to him while he was half-naked felt like some kind of punishment. His damp shoulder brushed against my shirt, warm and solid. I swallowed and forced myself to focus on the circus outside.

"Don’t they have real news to report?" I asked. "The world’s on fire. Why the hell are they here?"

"They’re not exactly NBC," Kai pointed out. He nodded towards the blonde woman. "That’s Sandra Blankman. Covers tech news. And I think the guy is Declan Kinkade. Basically a glorified blogger."

Kinkade started walking backward across the lawn, keeping his camera pointed at the house. He stumbled, nearly fell, then climbed the steps—still facing us—and pounded on the front door.

Kai let go of the curtain and jumped back from the window.

"I’m going to tell them to get lost," I said, heading to grab my shoes.

"No, don’t."

His hand landed on my shoulder. I looked down at it, then up at him. His lips parted like he was about to say something else. He inhaled—quick and shallow—but then he dropped his hand and said, "Please. It’ll only make it more of a thing. They’ll get bored and leave eventually."

I was skeptical. "If they’re not real journalists, they don’t have deadlines. They could be out there all damn day."

Kinkade knocked again.

I gave Kai a look. "It’s gonna be a long day if they keep that up."

"Please," he said again, eyes wide with desperation.

I sighed and raised my hands. "Alright. I won’t. At least if they’re here, your stalker’s not likely to make a move."

I did call the cops, though. Figured someone should complain. I didn’t know if any of Kai’s neighbors would bother—or if they’d rather talk to the press instead.

It was a bad start to what turned out to be a shitty day. Not because the reporters lingered—they were gone by eleven. And not because Kai and I fought. No, it was the opposite.

Kai ignored me. It was like I didn’t exist. And when he couldn’t ignore me, he was polite. Excruciatingly polite. Like I was a foreign dignitary. Or an aunt he only saw twice a year. Or a bomb that might explode.

A wall had gone up between us, and I hated it. We were still in the same house, never more than a hundred feet apart, but I missed him like he was halfway around the world.

This is what I got for thinking I could have someone like him. I should’ve known better than to let myself fall. To fall in love .

My heart ached when I watched him. Even when I was turned on at the same time, which was pretty impressive, if you asked me.

Since Kai was acting like I wasn’t there, he kept wandering around the house like he was completely alone. That first morning, he went upstairs to change out of his towel, but he came back down in pajama pants and nothing else. Just walked into the kitchen like it was any other day, while my cock yelled at the rest of me to stop being noble and push him up against the cabinets.

He opened the refrigerator, bending over to grab a jug of orange juice. I did my best not to stare at his ass, but come on. Those pajama pants draped over him obscenely, and I was intimately familiar with the parts of his body they were covering. My imagination ran wild.

If he was aware of the effect he was having on me, he gave no sign. I cleared my throat and opened a cabinet, pulling a glass free for him. I slid it towards him on the counter. He ignored it, pushed past me, and got himself an identical glass from the cabinet.

“Seriously?” I said as he poured his juice, drank it all in one gulp—I tried hard not to stare at his Adam’s apple as he swallowed—and put the jug back in the fridge. “I thought you didn’t even like orange juice.”

He shrugged and walked back upstairs, that same hurt look in his eyes.

At lunch, I brought up a bag of food for him again, but he shook his head and said, “Thanks all the same, but I’m not hungry.”

Which I knew was a lie, because half an hour later, he walked back downstairs—still shirtless—to make himself a sandwich. He was doing his best to cut me out of his life while I was still present, and that hurt more than I was ready for. By that evening, I felt like a ghost. I knew I was still alive in the house, but Kai managed to make me feel like I wasn’t.

The next morning, he came downstairs in just his underwear while I was making a smoothie. I’d learned he really liked mango, and I still thought he should eat more leafy greens, so I’d taken to making him mango-pineapple-lime-baby spinach smoothies in the mornings.

I didn’t hear him come down with the blender on, and when I turned around to see him standing in front of the fridge in nothing but his briefs, I jumped.

“Jesus, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He looked up and said, “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to next time.”

His voice was perfectly courteous, but I felt the wall of ice between us.

“And could you maybe consider wearing some actual clothes?” I snapped, still unsettled by his presence and unnerved by the distance between us.

Kai looked at me, looked down at his body, and then looked back again. He didn’t act like he was trying to tempt me. But he didn’t look ashamed either.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize this bothered you. I’ll go change.”

“No, Kai, that’s not—” I began to say. I didn’t know why I was objecting, because I did want him to stop torturing me like this, but he didn’t let me finish anyway.

“I’ll go do that now.” He reached into the fridge to grab a yogurt, then pulled a spoon out of the drawer and headed for the stairs.

“Wait,” I called. “I made you a smoothie!”

“It’s okay,” he said, not even turning around. “You can have it.”

And with that, he disappeared upstairs again.

I ground my teeth, staring down at the blender. It would’ve been so much easier if he were being rude to me. Dangerous, maybe, because getting into an argument with Kai often led to getting into other things. But it would’ve hurt less.

I couldn’t stand the coolness, the pain that radiated off him in waves. I’d ended things so I wouldn’t hurt him later. But all I’d managed to do was hurt him now. I hated myself for it.

Then why are you doing it ? asked the little voice in my head.

Because it’s the right thing to do , I argued back. But even I could hear how hollow that sounded now.

I didn’t bother to cook a big dinner that night. Kai hadn’t eaten any of it yesterday, and it was depressing cooking for one. Instead, I made myself a salad out of leftovers—sliced roasted chicken on orzo with more of that spinach and kale, covered in a light lemon and olive oil dressing. The ingredients were delicious, but they tasted like ashes in my mouth. I ate mechanically, washed my dishes mechanically, and walked back upstairs the same way.

I closed the guest room door. If Kai didn’t want to see me, I could make that easier. And it wasn’t like I felt good seeing him right now anyway.

I lay on the bed, wondering what would happen when he eventually went back to work. The reporters had come back again that morning, but they stayed for even less time. Sometime, though, Kai was going to have to face the world again.

I wanted to be there for him—physically and emotionally—but it was hard with him trying to pretend I didn’t exist. I fell asleep that night with Kai’s face in my mind, his eyes staring at me, asking why.

I wasn’t sure how late it was when I woke up again, but the sky outside was dark. I lay there for a second, listening to the stillness, wondering what had woken me—and then I heard it: a noise coming from downstairs. My heart squeezed tight. I sat up and threw the covers back.

I opened the door to the hall and listened again. And there it was—the unmistakable sound of the doors to the backyard sliding open. I darted across the hall to Kai’s bedroom. The covers were thrown back, the bed empty. Fuck.

I never should’ve closed my own door. I might’ve heard, or even seen, him leave his room. I told myself everything was probably fine. The alarm system hadn’t gone off, so Kai must have opened the doors himself from the inside. But why the hell would he be going into the backyard in the middle of the night?

I hurried back to my room and grabbed the bedside lamp from the nightstand, ripping the cord loose. I brandished it in my left hand, the only one available with my right still in a sling, and made my way down the stairs in silence.

The main floor was still and empty. No lights on, no alarms blinking. No sign that anything was wrong—except for the sliding door off the dining room, wide open. I moved through the house on quiet feet, every sense in my body on high alert.

I was halfway across the dining room when a shape moved outside. I raised my arm, ready to crash the lamp down on any intruder—then sighed in relief as Kai dashed in, a kitchen knife in his hand. It took him a little longer to react than me, and he was two feet from me when he finally skidded to a stop, lowering the knife.

“Oh thank god,” he said, breathless. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Like who?” I asked, nodding at the kitchen knife in his hand.

“I don’t know.” His voice was still high and breathy. “Someone. Anyone.” He glanced at the lamp in my hand. “Were you planning to illuminate me to death?”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “It was the first thing I grabbed. Probably should’ve swapped it for a knife when I got downstairs.”

He shivered, his shoulders sagging. “You can have mine if you like.”

He turned and whistled, and Bella came trotting inside after him. He closed the door behind her, pausing to peer out into the dark like he expected something—or someone.

“What made you get up?” I asked as he moved into the kitchen.

Kai shrugged. “Thought I heard something downstairs. I checked the front door, but no one was there. Then I thought I should check the back, but there was no one there either. Stupid, but I guess I’m extra paranoid these days.”

“It’s not stupid,” I said. “But you should’ve woken me up. We could’ve come down together.”

“Because you want to spend so much time with me these days?” he asked, quiet and hollow. The look he gave me gutted me—full of pain and regret.

“That’s the whole reason I’m here,” I told him. “And you’re the one avoiding me . I’m glad you at least took Bella, but come on. Why am I still around if you’re not going to use me?”

He slid the knife back into the block and spread his hands. “Honestly, Mason, I’m really not sure. Whoever’s behind all this, I think they’ve moved on. Nothing’s happened since the night you were attacked.”

“Except they released your video,” I said.

“And they got what they wanted.” He rubbed his eyes, and I realized—too late—he was wiping away tears. “The Butterfly Center’s board released a statement today. They’re officially cutting ties. They sent me a message telling me they didn’t even want my money anymore. The project’s on hold for real now while they try to find other funding. So whoever’s behind all this got exactly what they wanted.”

“Oh, Kai.” I stepped closer, aching to touch him. “I know how much the center meant to you.”

“Do you?” he asked, eyes flaring. “Do you really?”

“I might not have known I was bi when I was younger,” I said, “but I know you. I know how much you care, how hard you try to make the world a better place. You were willing to keep funding the center in private, even after they cut ties. I know how much this hurts you. I wish I could do something to make it better.”

“Well, you can’t,” he said. His voice was hard, but his shoulders began to shake. “No one can make this better. No one can fucking help.”

Fresh tears glistened on his face. Against my better judgement—against every reason I’d tried to cling to—I stepped forward and pulled him in.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t sob or break down. He just stood there, letting me hold him. That hurt worse somehow. I knew how deep his pain ran if he was willing to accept comfort from me, of all people.

A minute later, he pulled away, shaking his head.

“Forget it,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” I said, heart clenching. “You never have to apologize for that. I want to help you—if you’ll let me.”

“Except you don’t,” he said. “Because what I need is the man I fell for. The man I knew I could rely on. And you’re the only one keeping him away.”

That cracked something in me. I reached up, cupping his cheek. He had stubble tonight, the faint rasp of it under my palm somehow grounding.

“I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“But you are.” His gaze locked on mine, steady and devastating. “What does your intention matter, when it feels the same?”

“It matters because what if you keep relying on me, and one day I let you down even more?”

“It doesn’t get worse than this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know that you’d let me down!” he said, pulling away. “Why are you so sure that’ll happen? Maybe I’ll let you down. Maybe we’ll let each other down. Or maybe neither of us will. Maybe everything will be fine. But we’ll never know—because of you.”

“Kai, I’ve done bad things.”

“So? So have I. So has everyone.” He crossed his arms. “But you didn’t kill those kids. You did everything you could to stop more people from dying. You made sure Pete answered for what he did. Why do you think that means you still have to suffer?”

“Because I have to pay for what I did.”

“Why? What good will that do? Will it bring those kids back? Will it stop anyone else from getting hurt? You’re a good person, Mason. You don’t need to deny yourself happiness to prove you’re not a monster.”

“I hurt you in high school.”

“And I forgave you for it,” Kai said. “That’s my decision to make. I can’t make you accept it. But you can’t make me take it back.”

“Kai, I—” I stopped and stared at him. Defiant. Passionate. Believing in me in a way I could barely believe in myself. If I hadn’t already known I was in love with him, I would’ve known now.

I didn’t know what to say. So I told the truth. “I hate this.”

The words scraped out of me like glass. The distance, the silence, the pain I kept causing him—it was unbearable.

“Then stop it.” Kai stepped up to me, our toes touching, our faces inches apart. “It’s entirely in your power.”

Could I do that? Just…stop? Give in to what I wanted, instead of fighting it?

I didn’t trust myself. But I trusted him. And I didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“I need—I need you,” I whispered.

He rose up on his toes, held my face in both hands, and kissed me.

It was deep and hungry and everything I hadn’t let myself want. Lips and teeth and tongues. Hands reaching, caressing, stroking. Everything.

When he finally pulled away, I felt dizzy.

“Fuck,” I said. “I missed that.”

“It’s only been a few days,” he said.

“That’s too many.”

I swept my arm around him and kissed him again, aiming to make him feel as lightheaded as I did. I pressed him back against the kitchen island, slipping my leg between his, my thigh rubbing against his cock—which was gratifying, since he was once again shirtless, and I was once again hard at the sight of him. But touch was even better.

My mouth moved to his neck, nibbling his skin, wanting to leave a mark. I wanted to claim him as my own.

“Too fucking many,” I growled when I came up for air.

Kai pushed me back and frowned. “Wait a second. Are you going to regret this as soon as it’s over? Because I don’t think I can handle any more whiplash.”

“Regret it or not, I’m not going anywhere. I can’t keep myself away from you. No matter how hard I try. I need you, Kai.”

“Good Because I need you too.”

Our kisses were even more furious after that, and Kai’s hands were quicksilver over my body, touching me, teasing me everywhere. He palmed my cock and started to kneel, but I shook my head.

“No. I want to be inside you.”

His eyes went wide, but he nodded and began to move towards the stairs.

“No,” I said again. “I want you here. Now.”

I spun him around, tugging his pajama pants down so I could stare at his perfect ass. God, how had it taken so long for me to realize I wanted him this way? I needed to make up for lost time.

I slid a finger down his cheeks, found his hole, and teased him there. He moaned appreciatively, then looked back over his shoulder. “We need to get lube.”

“We’ve got plenty down here.”

“Really?” He glanced around the kitchen. “Did you buy some when I wasn’t looking or—”

He stopped talking when I grabbed the bottle of olive oil that I’d left on the counter.

“Holy shit. Can you really use that?”

“You can use almost any oil as lube if you’re desperate. Believe me, we got creative in the field sometimes.”

“With olive oil ?”

“Six thousand years of Greek shepherds can’t be wrong.”

“Be serious right now.”

“Okay, we used Crisco. And sunflower oil. Butter, once. Olive oil should work fine, as long as we—” I broke off, realizing a fatal flaw in my plans. “Fuck. It won’t work with condoms. Which I don’t have down here anyway. Nevermind.”

“Someday, I’m going to need to get detailed explanations of just what you did on deployment.” Kai laughed. “But fuck it. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I was tested. And I’m fine with skipping condoms if you are.”

“I haven’t been with anyone but you in over a year. I’m clear too.”

“Well then slick up your breadstick and shove it in my salad.”

He grinned broadly, and I couldn’t help laughing.

I used my fingers first, of course. One, then two, then three, as Kai demanded more, now, more . I was happy to oblige. It had only been a few days, but I meant it when I said it had been too long. Now that I knew how good he felt—and how good I could make him feel—there was nothing I wanted to do more.

So once I was sure he was prepped enough, I coated my cock in oil, brought it to his entrance, and pushed it in to the hilt. Kai’s moan became a groan, and he fell down onto his elbows, his head hanging low.

“You’re so big.”

“And you’ve got such a tight little hole.”

“It’s yours. It’s yours as long as you want it.”

“How about forever?”

The last time we’d had sex—the first time—Kai had been so gentle. But I didn’t want to be gentle tonight, and neither did he. I began to fuck him, and he slid back to meet my thrusts. My chest ached, but I didn’t care. I gripped his hip with one hand and slid in and out of him, our bodies working together.

He dropped a hand to stroke himself, and I knew I needed to touch him there too. I wanted to jerk him off with my cock inside him, giving him as much pleasure as possible. He writhed underneath me, his voice getting steadily higher.

Yes, yes, oh god, please, yes, fuck, Mason, fuck .

The words came out in a torrent as he panted for breath, and suddenly, he was coming. His ass clenched around my cock, and it was enough to push me over the edge. I came too, releasing deep inside him. Knowing we weren’t using condoms, that I was filling him up, made it even sweeter. I wanted him to have a part of me inside him at all times. Wanted to leave my scent on him. Wanted the world to know he was mine.

I finally stopped moving, bracing myself against the counter top, closing my eyes and resting my chin on the back of his head. My chest heaved. Sweat covered both of us. The ache in my chest was even stronger, but I didn’t care. I wanted to stay like that forever, basking in the afterglow.

“Before you pull out,” Kai said, “I want your promise that you’re not going to go all weird and panicky on me now and try to push me away again.”

I laughed. “Or what? You’ll hold my dick hostage?”

“Don’t think I won’t try it.” He wiggled his ass from side-to-side.

“I won’t go all weird and panicky. Or at least, I promise I’ll try not to.” Something tight in my chest unknotted at those words.

“And do you promise that if you start feeling that way, you’ll talk to me, instead of trying to make decisions for me, for my own good?”

“Just how many demands do you have?” I asked, still laughing, still riding the high of my orgasm.

“As many as it takes to keep you with me.”

“I promise I’ll talk to you.”

“And you’ll respect my right to make my own decisions?”

“And that. Unless your decisions involve going outside with a knife in the middle of the night again. Because you really should have come and talked to me about that.”

“Fiiiiine.” He stretched the word out like it was a huge imposition, but I knew he was joking. “I promise not to do anything like that again.”

“Good.” I kissed the back of his neck. “Then let’s clean up down here and go back to bed.”

He grinned over his shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”