Chapter Eleven
Mason
Shutting myself away in my room, I sagged against the door, annoyed. I shouldn’t have left the situation the way I did, but the urge to escape was so great I had to leave, needing to get some distance between us before I did something I’d regret.
I rubbed at the top of my left hand directly over the spot where Ash had placed his. When he’d said he’d love my rose-tinted view of perfection, I’d panicked when an impression of him and me had replaced the one of me and Lindsay. Us sitting on a couple of rocking chairs, fingers linked, watching the sun go down on his deck, the sound of the waves gently lapping at the sand on the shoreline in the distance. The scenario, so homey and tranquil, set off a yearning deep down inside me I struggled hard to ignore it.
Yet the only image currently imprinted in my mind was the hurt so clear in Ash’s mossy eyes when I’d pulled away, and the wounded expression on his face when the bitterness of my words sank in.
I hadn’t meant them for him, those words. They were all aimed squarely at me. For being so dumb as to believe in fairy tales in the first place. My dreams had already been ripped from me once, so no way, no fucking way, would I allow my brain to think about having them again, only to let the same thing happen.
Add in what the attack had turned me into—this pathetic creature barely able to function—and there was no way I’d want to be tied to anyone, or for them to get dragged into the shit show my life had become, especially someone as sweet and gregarious as Ash.
The sound of Ash’s bedroom door softly clicking shut tripped my guilt switch even further. He was a good person, not a bad bone in his body, and a great friend to me, so he didn’t deserve how I’d treated him. I needed to apologize but I wasn’t sure I had the courage to face him after my blunt dismissal and rapid departure.
Pushing off the door I headed past the bed and into the bathroom. Once there, flicking on the light, I stared into the mirror, hands resting on the vanity, closely studying my reflection. My skin, which used to be sickly and pale, had turned to a light golden color from my time sitting in the sun. I looked refreshed. Healthier. Better. Tilting my head to the side, I lightly brushed my temple and noted the remnants of my bruising, all but healed. The biggest improvement was the absence of the dark circles under my eyes I’d gotten used to seeing all the time. They’d almost disappeared, and I finally saw the return of my old self, the one person I’d thought gone forever.
Unerringly my thoughts returned to Ash and his role in my appearance.
He didn’t deserve the way I’d treated him after he’d done so much for me since we’d met. Dropping my head in defeat, I knew I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to say I was sorry, so steeling my resolve, I gave in to my inner voice that told me to make amends. Making my way back through the bedroom, I opened my door, crossed the hallway and knocking lightly a couple of times on his. The muted sound of water running had me guessing he was in the bathroom and instantly sent my pulse racing as the memory of seeing him naked returned.
His ass. Why was I so fascinated with his ass?
I knocked again, harder to ensure he’d hear me this time, and he opened the door wearing a pair of sleep shorts and nothing else. My brain short-circuited for a moment as all the words stuck in my throat, and it took all the strength I had to force my eyes to stay above his neck and keep my gaze determinedly fixed on his face.
“Mase?” he said warily.
My palms had gone sweaty, and I tried to speak, but the words got stuck behind the huge boulder currently lodged in my throat. Just saying I’m sorry wouldn’t cut it, and certainly wouldn’t go anywhere near to describing the tumult of emotions swirling in my mind our earlier conversation had evoked.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to speak. “I came to say I’m sorry,” I said, wanting to be instantly clear and figuring I had to start somewhere, to say something to break the awkwardness hanging between us. “I shouldn’t have spoken so tersely to you earlier or left things the way I did.”
He did a quick double take, unsure of my apology, but quickly recovered. “It’s okay. We’re all good. Honest. I shouldn’t have pried in the first place.”
He was being far too generous as usual, and far too quick to let me off the hook. But I didn’t want to be forgiven so easily. I’d been an ass and wanted him to know it.
“No, it’s not good. I shouldn’t have treated you so dismissively when you were only being kind.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t being kind; I was being truthful. I want the best life for you, Mason, so would love for your dreams to become a reality. Just because things didn’t work out with your fiancée, doesn’t mean they won’t work out with someone else.”
His eyes clouded over for a second when he finished, and I thought I saw a flash of pain in their depths, but then he blinked and gave me a bright smile that seemed a little too false to be real.
Again, I thought back to his warm hand covering mine and the words he’d spoken, or more precisely, the way he’d spoken them to me before he’d gotten flustered. I’d been so caught up in my own head at the time, but now, thinking about them, and his reaction a second ago, it had me wondering if he’d also seen a flash of what his life might be like if he’d pictured us together as well.
I swallowed, the sound loud in the quietness of the house. “Still, I was wrong, and I apologize.”
We both fell into an awkward silence, making me feel even more uncomfortable. I wanted us to return to the easy-going friendship we’d grown used to but wasn’t sure how to go about making that happen. I struggled with social situations at the best of times, but didn’t want Ash to see me at such a loss with what to do. He’s the only person who’d managed to break through my barriers and make me feel relaxed whenever I was around him, and I wanted that back.
“Hug it out?” I asked lamely, trying to figure out a way to break the deadlock more than anything else. Relief flooded me when he agreed.
“Sure.”
We both stepped close at the same time. I wrapped my arms around his body. One over the shoulder the other around his waist, pulling him in close. His bare skin, so warm and inviting, I indulged in him for a few moments, letting his body heat seep into me, dissipating the remaining tension between us. Though we were almost the same height, his head rested against my shoulder in exactly the right place, setting off a protectiveness in me I hadn’t expected. My heart gave a small jolt at the feeling.
The sigh leaving his lips rippled over me, and as with anytime we got close, my body began to take notice, my cock beginning to thicken in my underwear. Not wanting to give myself away, I delivered a final man-slap to his back and then released him, so he’d not feel my growing hard-on against his thigh. He swayed on his feet, leaning toward me, and I couldn’t prevent the surge of arrogant pride rushing through me, that I could elicit such a reaction.
“I should go. Early start, remember?” I said, my voice lower, more husky than normal. Having finished gutting the main living area and kitchen today, we were going to work on the two first floor bedrooms and attached bathrooms tomorrow, as they were gonna take a while.
“Okay,” he agreed. He moved back a foot or two, while at the same time dropping his hands to cover the front of his shorts, the same as they had previously. This time I didn’t need to look down to know he also had an erection, as the color flooding his cheeks easily gave him away.
I definitely liked knowing I had this much of an affect on him, his clear honesty so refreshing. I didn’t have to second-guess myself for a change or have to decipher any signals or gestures to determine if the woman I’d taken to dinner liked me or not. There was no artifice with Ash, and I’d never been in this situation before. Had never been cognizant of how much I valued the openness and honesty of another person since the deceit in my past.
I returned the short distance to my room, looking back over my shoulder at the last minute, our gazes instantly connecting on each other. “Night, Ash.”
“Night, Mason.”
I closed the door behind me, feeling a whole lot better having resolved the issue. I hated to string an argument or disagreement out for any length of time. What was the point? Work through the problem together, and if you need to apologize, do so, and then move on. It’s not rocket science. After I’d washed up and climbed into bed, I switched off the bedside lamp and settled under the cool sheets. I lay there in the darkness for a long time after, and despite telling myself earlier it was bad for my well-being, I thought about a life where Ash and I really were a couple, wondering, possibly hoping, he may also be lying awake thinking about the exact same thing.
*
“Get a nice tight grip,” I directed Ash as he tried to remove a particularly stubborn length of pipework from the bathroom. “And wiggle it around until the piece comes off in your hands.”
He looked up at me from where he crouched on the floor, a massive smile on his face. “Seriously?”
“What?”
His jaw dropped. “What do you mean, what?”
I scrunched up my face until I replayed my instructions and got embarrassed at the unintended double entendre. I slapped him gently around the head. “Can you please keep your mind out of the gutter for five minutes and do your job?”
“You’re no fun,” he pouted. “What if I need to screw in your flange or something?”
I squinted at him. “Do you even know what a flange is?”
“Nope. But it sounds kind of dirty, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I couldn’t prevent a laugh from escaping.
I shook my head at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yep,” he popped the p really loud. “I sure am.”
“Get back to work,” I chided and laughed at his indignant grunt.
I always had fun around Ash, but watching his confidence grow each time he resolved any issues with the plumbing, or when he tore down a wall, with so much joy on his face was infectious. After the tenseness of last night, we’d found an easy camaraderie today, our mutual enjoyment of the work bonding us.
Ash picked up new skills lightning quick. Far quicker than the four of us ever had, and after showing him what he needed to do once, he had the technique down with no need for repeats.
The pipe he currently worked on removing came off suddenly, the action sending him sprawling on his butt on the floor with a yelp.
I peered at him. “You okay down there?”
He swallowed hard; his eyes riveted at the top of my legs. He’d landed directly between them, his head nestled by my ankles, the position giving him a direct line of sight right up the loose-fitting shorts I’d worn. Today was a scorcher, and I hated sweaty balls so I hadn’t bothered with underwear, thinking the see-through mesh would be enough to hold everything in place while letting the air circulate at the same time. Obviously, I hadn’t figured on Ash falling in a heap at my feet, able to get a good eyeful.
“Here,” I said huskily and lowered my hand. He gave me one of his, and I hauled him up. He came up awkwardly, his body twisting with the grip we had, causing him to fall against me, chest to chest.
His eyes widened at how close we were, our faces only inches apart. His temperature spiked, making the light citrusy aftershave he wore, the one continually teasing my senses all morning, headier and more potent. His own unique scent deepened and became more intense.
“You all right?” I asked, my voice rough. He didn’t say anything as a deep flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks, his breath coming out in small pants, fanning my face. We remained locked in stasis, our gazes connected. I teetered on the edge of a precipice, struggling not to fall, to give in to the feelings I’d developed for Ash since the first time we’d met. My brain tried to reason with me, warn me this was madness and that I hadn’t recovered and remained far too vulnerable and emotionally unstable to contemplate any kind of a connection with him. Plus, Ash was young, too young and grieving over the loss of his aunt and struggling to come to terms with what that loss meant.
But when his eyes dropped to my lips, the hunger for me clear in their depths, all my reservations and hesitation vanished into thin air. The single thought rushing through my mind demanded I give Ash all his beautiful eyes were telling me he wanted. With my heart beating like a hammer, I haltingly lowered my head. Closing the small gap between us, I grazed my lips along his partly open mouth. Sparks crackled at the connection, sizzling along my nerve endings, scorching me from head to toe.
The walls of the dam cracked wide open, allowing every one of the emotions I’d repressed for so many months to break free. The feel of his mouth against my own was nothing at all like I expected. There was no taste of lipstick, no soft small lips gently caressing my own. I was kissing a hard, unforgiving male—make no mistake. Ash hesitated for a few brief seconds before grabbing at my shoulder with his free hand, his fingers digging into my skin, sending arrows of pleasure down to my groin. He tilted his head, getting closer, slanting his mouth over mine, his tongue pushing between my lips, curling against my own.
Taking.
He moved his hand from my shoulder to coil around my neck and hold on firmly, allowing him the access he craved. Ash whimpered into my mouth, but I swallowed it down, kissing him deeper. My tongue took possession of his, dominating him, licking inside his mouth, the tender flesh warm and wet. I gripped his jaw, keeping him exactly where I wanted him and continued devouring his mouth. He melted in submission, and I reveled in the sweetest of victories as his body aligned with mine, joined from chest to thigh. I released his hand, the one I’d used to help him up, and slid mine down his muscular back to his ass, taking a firm hold of his gorgeous bubble butt.
As tight and as round as I’d dreamed, I couldn’t resist the temptation to hold both of his full heavy globes in my palms, so releasing his jaw, and dragging my fingers down the length of his lean body, I cupped the other cheek. Squeezing tight, I pulled him into me, grinding my already hard cock against his, and loving the deep moan he released between our kisses.
Pulling away, needing the air, Ash chased after me.
“No,” he whined, “Don’t stop.” His mouth again glued to mine, and ceding control, I let him take over the kiss as he sucked on my tongue, tangling with it, and tasting every part of me the same way I had him.
Massaging his ass cheeks, he writhed against me, up and down my hips, his movements becoming urgent, his rock-hard length thrusting against mine, the friction sending waves of pleasure into my body, down my spine and straight to my cock.
I found the waistband at the rear of his board shorts and slipped a hand underneath his briefs to get to his heated skin. The wail of pleasure he let forth as my fingers slid down his crease nearly undid me, but at the same time dragged me from the cliff edge I’d nearly thrown both of us over.
Wrenching my hand free, I stumbled away, my chest heaving as I tried to get some air in my burning lungs.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to get out.
“No,” Ash snapped, and his vehemence surprised me. “Don’t you dare apologize. You did nothing wrong. We did nothing wrong.”
“I shouldn’t have taken—”
“No,” he repeated, moving closer to me. Taking my wrist he placed my hand over the front of his shorts, where my fingers instinctively curled around his erection as he held me in place. “I want this as much as you.” He applied more pressure, moving my hand up and down his length, his eyelids fluttering shut, his head dropping back. “I want this,” he repeated. He let my hand go, but I didn’t take it away. My fingers remained curled around him, holding him in my grasp, squeezing tentatively, testing.
He was so fucking hard.
“What do you want, Ash?” I ground out. He released a deep and guttural moan. My gaze flicked to his face to see his eyes still closed, his head still back. I flexed my fingers, shifting them slightly, getting a firmer grip. The keening noise he made caused me to stop all movement, unsure if was hurting him or making him feel good.
His head snapped forward, eyelids opening, pupils wide, his deep moss-green eyes as dark and stormy as a turbulent sea. Lips, red and swollen from the ferocity of our kisses, cheeks flushed pink, he looked utterly debauched, and I’d barely gotten started.
“Everything,” he whispered. “Kissing, sucking—” He shuddered. “—fucking.” His voice gave out on the last word, his body trembling, his heavy-lidded eyes intensely focused on my face. “Everything.”
Jesus . If my touching him through his shorts caused this strong a reaction, what would he look like when I had him naked and under me as I powered into him?
The vision I conjured made me shiver with pleasure I wanted it so bad.
But I shouldn’t want it. I couldn’t want it.
Could I?
Would I be willing to go that far?
Fuck another man?
Another wanton shiver ripped into me, more powerful, more violent, providing me with the answer to my own question.
The loud knock on the open front door threw me for a second, my mind fuzzy, my body heavy with lust, until a person yelled, “Hellooo, Ash? You in here?”
We rapidly sprang apart, putting space between us, the air rushing in to fill the gap. The initial shock on Ash’s face was rapidly replaced by annoyance at the interruption, giving a huge boost to m y ego he felt as frustrated as I did at being forced to stop.
He moved jerkily to the bathroom doorway. “In here,” he responded loudly. Not concentrating on what Ash’s words meant, my mind continued to race like crazy, replaying what we would have done if we’d not been interrupted. So I didn’t have time to freak out about the stranger—correction, strangers—as they walked into the empty bedroom.
Ash immediately stepped in front of me, barring their entry to the bathroom, keeping me out of view. His hand going discretely behind him to take hold of my wrist, his thumb rubbing over my frantic pulse.
I took a few long, deep lungfuls of air but found I didn’t need them, as there wasn’t any impending sense of panic, nor did I feel any need to relax and calm down. I merely needed his gentle touch, and his thumb to continue making lazy circles over my pulse point, each brush across my skin soothing me, easing my nerves.
“Whoa,” one of the men exclaimed. “You have been a busy boy.” For a brief second, I speculated the guy referred to Ash and me, but then he added, “You do all this yourself?” Okay, so not about us.
Ash’s grip on my wrist tightened, silently asking me for permission. I ran my hand gently down his spine and received a small shiver as my reward.
“I’ve had some help,” he replied, his voice uneven.
“Oh yeah? Who?”
Steeling myself, I moved to the other side of Ash, so they’d see me. “Me.”
The priceless look on the smaller guy’s face made me smile, as his mouth formed a wide O, while giving me a slow and thorough perusal at the same time.
“You never told us you hired a contractor,” he returned.
“I haven’t,” Ash stated. “Guys, this is Mason, my neighbor.” He introduced me as if they already knew who I was, which surprised me. Had he talked to them about me? If so, what had they discussed? We’d not known each other long enough for there to be a lot to say, had we?
Unless they’d been talking about us…
“Mason, this is Flynn—” He first pointed at the shorter, slimmer guy with the dark auburn hair and then to the bigger guy, built like a huge slab of beef. “—and Cam.”
“Hi.” I nodded at them both. The redhead guy’s eyes dropped to Ash’s fingers encircling my wrist, an interested look on his face. Ash didn’t let go.
“We’re off to the beach to look for some arty shit for him,” Cam jerked a finger at Flynn. “So we decided we’d swing by to see if you wanna go out Saturday night?”
“We’re looking for sea glass and driftwood, asshole,” Flynn retorted.”
“That’s what I said,” Cam replied, grinning at his friend before looking at Ash again. “Anyway, a new local band has their first gig at the Bay, so we’re gonna head down there to check it out.” He jiggled his eyebrows, confirming to me what he meant by checking it out .
Jealousy, hot and savage, burned in my stomach at the thought of Ash going out and possibly picking up another guy, promptly followed by relief when I remembered he was currently staying with me so was unlikely to bring them there. Then jealousy again at the likelihood he’d stay over at the guy’s place if he needed somewhere to be intimate in private.
What the hell?
Ash briefly glanced my way, hesitating.
“Is the invitation just for Ash, or can I tag along too?” The words fell out of my mouth before I fully registered the importance of my question. As if confirming the rashness of my statement, Ash’s eyes had gone comically wide.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he managed to say.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Flynn replied. “The more the merrier.”
Ash glared at his friend, who appeared unrepentant.
“Mase,” Ash warned, but I cut him off by linking our fingers and squeezing them.
“Later,” I murmured against his ear. He turned to me, his eyes scanning my face, worry in their depths as he agreed, though I reckoned the discussion was far from over.
“Sure, we can get an extra ticket, no problem.” Cam turned to Flynn. “Remind me to ask Davey for a booth, will you? Or I’ll forget otherwise.”
“Cool,” Flynn replied, grin widening, his gaze fixed on me. “So seven thirty Saturday, yeah?”
“Great.” My voice came out normal, calm, but, inside, my pulse pounded in my veins, and a whooshing noise filled my ears as the reality of what I’d agreed to sank in.
The men turned around and left as quick as they had arrived. As soon as they were out of earshot, Ash rounded on me, and I inwardly tensed.
“Are you nuts?” he shouted, making me wince, the sound loud in the confined space. “You can’t go out in your condition.” He threw his hands up in disgust. “Are you nuts?” he repeated.
“I’m not pregnant, Ash,” I deadpanned, and if looks could kill I’d be a very dead man.
“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” he snapped, scowling at me, totally pissed and by the look on his face, scared too. The belief he cared enough to worry about me and my situation had my heart missing a couple of beats, and a warm fuzzy feeling spreading throughout my chest.
I studied him as he paced to and fro, eventually stepping in front of him, halting his movement. “Speak to me, Ash.”
He ran a hand over his hair, the dust he released scattering around him. “I’m worried about you, okay?”
“I got that part.” I squeezed his arm. “But I need you to tell me why?”
He hesitated for a moment. “What if going out sets you back days or weeks even? Yes, you’ve taken a few steps on the road to recovery by walking along the beach, but that’s all.” Ash raised his hand to cup my cheek. “I don’t want you to push yourself more than you need to, or think you need to do this for me. You need to do this for you, Mason, not for anyone else, otherwise it’ll never work, and you’ll never get better.”
“I get what you’re saying. I do, but what’s the point of not testing the boundaries I’ve subconsciously set? Of not pushing past those boundaries to grow stronger, less afraid?”
He closed his eyes for a second, calming himself, easing his tension. When he opened his eyes again, he seemed a lot more relaxed and in control. “And you’re sure going to a crowded bar is the best way to do this?”
I grimaced. “Not really, no.” I raised my hand when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “But I’ve got to start somewhere, right?”
He was back to looking at me like I was psychotic. “If you wanted to start somewhere ,” he twitched his fingers in air quotes. “Don’t you think it might be better if you—oh, I don’t know—begin with something small? Maybe a walk along the main street, or going inside one of the smaller shops or restaurants rather than being crushed in a confined space with a load of people pushing and shoving and bumping into you? People drinking and being loud?”
Well, when he put it like that…
“In for a dime,” I mumbled.
“Seriously?”
I fought to hide a smile. I’d learned early on he’d use that specific word as his standard fallback question whenever he concluded I was talking out of my ass.
“Seriously.” I nudged his shoulder with my own. “Plus, I’ll have you there to protect me, won’t I?”
His eyes raked over my face for a long time before accepting defeat. He let out a disgruntled moan. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“That’s the spirit. Keeping it positive.”
His lips twitched briefly in amusement, but nearly as quickly, his face turned serious once more. “You tell me the minute you feel uncomfortable,” he declared firmly. “Any signs of uneasiness, nerves, panic, anything at all, and we’re out of there. Got it?”
“Got it.”
My bravado was all a front, of course, as the thought of not being able to cope and ending up having a panic attack or worse, scared the hell out of me. But I’d cowered behind my walls long enough. I had to put my head above the parapet and hope it didn’t get blown off because of one reckless moment.
My answer seemed to mollify him. “Okay,” he said, collecting himself. “Now, where were we?” Silence dropped like a bomb between us as we stared at each other, his cheeks turning pink. “With the flange,” his clarified. “The pipe. Where were we with the pipe thingy.”
I grinned. He was so damn adorable. “Why don’t we clear up the remaining trash from the bathroom and call it a day?” He keenly agreed and went to turn back to the wall adjacent to the pipework he’d wrestled with earlier. “But, Ash…”
“Yeah?” he croaked.
“Later, I want to continue from where we left off, okay?”
His head bobbed a couple of times in agreement before he spun away from me, his attention focused on the wall.
Now I’d had the tiniest taste of Ash, I’d already become addicted, so I completely understood his flustered reaction. I wasn't 100 percent sure how far I’d be prepared to go, or what I’d allow myself to do with him, but kissing him… Licking my lips I tasted the lingering flavors of him. Of us. Oh yeah, I wanted to do a whole lot more kissing if nothing else. The rest was what I had trouble getting my head around.
Earlier, our interaction had been spontaneous and in the moment, with no time to think, only to act. Whatever we did next would be with a clear mind and specific intent. I’d told him I wanted to finish what we’d started, and I did, only I couldn’t say for certain what exactly I wanted to finish.
When I’d had my fingers wrapped around him, my body hadn’t rejected the feelings of lust touching him had triggered. In fact, I’d never been more turned on in my life.
But…
I glanced down at Ash as he fiddled with the next piece of pipe and surreptitiously studied him. Taking in the messy, cropped brown hair, the play of muscles across his wide shoulders, not covered by his tank as he worked. Dropping my gaze farther, following the line of his spine, my eyes landed on the thin tanned strip of skin visible as he crouched, revealing the dimples at the top of his ass.
“I can feel you watching me.” His comment made me jump, and he turned, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
He stood and faced me. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Okay,” he huffed and went to walk past me. My hand on his bicep halted him. He didn’t speak, only stood there silently.
I’d add this to the growing list of traits I liked about him. The way he waited me out, as if he wanted to hear what I had to say but wouldn’t force me to speak unless I wanted to. No one ever acted the way he did. Previous partners were always there with their opinion, ready to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, but never Ash. He could have pushed the point, made me answer, but he never did. If I wanted to speak, he listened. If I wasn't ready to discuss whatever I had on my mind, he let the topic go.
“Why are you here?” I asked him, intrigued as to what his answer may be. Hopefully I’d get some insight into why he kept wasting his time on me. Why he bothered.
His brows furrowed. “I live here.”
“Okay,” I parroted his previous comment, his growl of frustration rumbling through me.
After endless seconds, he turned his head toward me to look me directly in the eye. “Initially, it was because I wanted to be your friend, to be there for you. I have this…this urge to help, to fix things, to try and make them better.” He shrugged. “Even as a child, I’d rescue injured animals and help them to get better.”
“You think I need rescuing?” I asked, suddenly angry at the analogy, the lightness of the moment turning darker. “I’m helpless?” My grip on his arm tightened. “I need to be fixed since I’m what, broken?”
Jesus , is this how he saw me? Some pathetic creature to be picked up off the side of the road and nursed back to health? Wanting to befriend me as I’m weak and he got some kick out of making me better?
The room spun around me, as it got harder and harder to breathe. I frantically tried to pull in some oxygen, but my throat closed. Stars appeared in front of my eyes as I struggled to get the air I needed. Bending at the waist, I tried to force more blood to my head and stave off the inevitable blackout creeping along the edges of my mind.
“Shit, Mason, no,” he stated adamantly, panic and fear coloring his voice. His hand rested on my back and rubbed up and down, instantly bringing the comfort I consistently yearned for from him. Disgust roiled in my gut at needing comfort in the first place, when all it would do was prove him right. Prove I was broken. Prove I did genuinely need to be fixed. Prove he was the only one who could fix me.
“That’s not how I see you at all.”
“Then what, Ash?” I asked hoarsely, battling for air. “What do you see?”
“Sit down, Mase; please sit down, and I’ll explain.” I dropped to the floor in a heap, my legs giving out beneath me. Ash was right there behind me, his muscled legs on either side of mine. Pulling me to him so I rested against his chest, his hands settling lightly over my lungs. “Breathe,” he stated firmly. “In—” He sucked in his own air and waited until I did the same, both of us holding our breath together. “—and out.” After what seemed an eternity, I released the air. He repeated the instructions, taking his time to help me follow them correctly. For the first time ever, I managed to regain my equilibrium using the crappy technique I’d previously judged to be useless. The tightness in my chest eased and my body relaxed into his.
I felt exhausted.
Gently leaning against the wall, Ash held me to him, my body nestled against his, arms wrapped around me protectively, my head lolling against his shoulder, too weak to hold itself up.
“I see a fighter,” he answered me gently, his lips against my ear. “Someone strong, not weak. A little damaged perhaps, but in no way broken.” He pulled me closer. “You’re scared, and have every right to be, but you’re battling your fears, working hard to beat them.” Emotion, fierce and powerful welled up inside my chest at his words. “You asked me what I see. Well, I see you, Mason. Under all the fear, under all and pain and hurt, I see you.”
Closing my lids tight, I fought to maintain the last threads of my control, failing abysmally as tears, big and fat, spilled from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks. Hot salty tracks, dripping down my chin and onto my shirt. They wouldn’t stop falling, and as more slid down my face, the utter despair of my shattered life finally broke free. I hadn’t cried once the whole time since my attack, but now I didn’t think I’d ever be able to stop as sob after sob racked my body.
“I’m here,” Ash said, his arms cradling me, “I’m here, Mason. You’re safe.” His final word released the floodgates, letting all my pent-up emotions free. Shouting my anger at why this horror had happened to me. Shouting at the never-ending terror twisting me up in knots. Howled my fury at being so frustrated, so out of control at continuously letting my weakness win, letting the fear of another attack, another defeat, beat me every single day.
Through it all, Ash held me. The single solitary rock in the turbulent ocean I clung to. How long I cried I had no clue, but when, after an eternity, I stopped, no more tears left, my throat rough and sore from shouting, I felt better, lighter, cleansed.
“Thank you,” I whispered, wiping the wetness off my face. “Shit. I bet I look a fucking mess.”
The soft chuckle against my neck filled me with warmth. “As I can’t see your face, I’m gonna say you look as hot as you always do.”
“Smooth talker, you.” I sniffled and the congealing gooey mess ran over my top lip. Gripping the hem of my T-shirt, I wiped the cotton over my face to remove any last evidence of my meltdown when I realized my stupid mistake. “Crap, now I’m covered in dust as well as snot,” I moaned.
“Still hot from where I’m sitting.” This time I did let out a laugh, which kept happening more and more around him lately, as well as bawling my eyes out, apparently. I drew comfort from the fact he’d already seen me at my worst, so surely, life could only get better from here on out.
“I should move,” I said, “I must be heavy.” Despite our comparative height, I had a bigger, bulkier build, with at least twenty-odd pounds on him.
He snuggled in behind me, wiggling his body, trying to get closer, his cock resting against my lower back. “Nah, you’re fine. I like your weight on top of me. Makes me feel safe.”
Leaning to the side, I swiveled my head to look at him face-to-face, wanting to make sure of his sentiment, but from the sincerity in his eyes, he truly meant the words. As screwed up as I was, I somehow managed to retain the ability to make him feel safe. He had no comprehension of how much those words meant to me. The ability to give him this, however small, when most of the time I had hardly any control over any part of my life, gave me an odd sense of peace from knowing he did see me as someone strong and not the weakling I imagined myself to be.
Lowering his head, he dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Still hot, even from the front.” His soft reply had me melting on the spot. He said the sweetest things.