Chapter Fourteen
Ash
The tortured scream forced me wide awake in a second, scrambling to sit up, struggling to identify my surroundings, the adrenalin pumping around my body like I’d run a marathon.
“No! Please!” Mason’s cry had me twisting around to see him thrashing about in the bed, the sheets tangling around his body were soaking wet, his hand clutching at the side of his head, legs churning as if trying to escape from something. Sweat drenched his body and his face, clearly visible in the early morning sunlight, contorted in fear and pain.
Recognizing his nightmare must be about the attack, I went to touch him, rouse him from his slumber, but stopped at the last minute, reticent to follow through on my action. Should I wake him or not? What if I did the wrong thing and he got hurt?
His arm lashed out and smacked me squarely in the jaw, knocking me backward, making me dizzy. If I didn’t help him soon, he’d likely do himself more damage than I ever would if he carried on.
“Mason,” I uttered, not overly loud in case I scared him even more. Placing my hand on his upper arm, I shook him gently. His lightning-fast reaction caught me unawares. Grabbing my hand and yanking it away from him he punched me hard in the chest with his free hand, the blow winding me and sending pain shooting through my ribs.
“Mason,” I shouted louder this time, wrenching free of his hold and clambering off the bed to stand over him, in a better position to brace for his next attack.
“Get off me!” he screamed desperately.
“What the fuck?” an unfamiliar male voice bellowed from the doorway, shocking me, freezing me where I stood. “Get away from him, you fucker.” Faster than I could move, the guy charged at me, his body slamming into mine after landing a punch to my kidneys. The excruciating pain ricocheted through my body, crumpling me to a heap at his feet.
The guy grabbed my shoulders and unceremoniously threw me to the side, giving him access to the bed. He straddled Mason and tried to wrap his hands around Mason’s flailing wrists.
Dragging myself off my knees, I staggered to my feet and lunged at the guy with all I had. “Leave him alone,” I screamed. The guy spun with the speed of a panther to grab my hands, but his reaction wasn’t enough to prevent my forward momentum, and we both went tumbling off the bed onto the floor.
Though smaller than me, his strength was unreal. In seconds, he had me on my back, one hand around my throat, the other arm raised to deliver a lethal punch to my face.
“Gabe! Stop!” Mason yelled, and we both froze, suspended in action. “Don’t hit him. Don’t fucking hit him.”
The guy’s eyes—Gabe’s eyes—stayed fixed on Mason for the longest time, his grip on my neck unrelenting. I struggled, both my hands trying frantically to pry his iron fingers from their death grip around my throat. I fought for oxygen, panic rising as the need to breathe overrode all else. Gabe turned his gaze on me, a murderous look in the depths of his fierce green eyes. He released his hand from around my throat, and I gasped at the sudden influx of air.
“Don’t fucking move,” he ground out as he got to his feet. He needn’t have worried. There was no chance of me going anywhere anytime soon.
“Shit, Gabe,” Mason berated. “You better not have hurt him.”
“Hurt him? He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him for what he was doing to you.”
I tried to protest, but my throat hurt too much to speak, and I managed no more than a whispered, “I didn’t do anything.”
“You were standing over him as he screamed for you to get the fuck off him, asshole.”
Horror swept through me at Mason thinking I’d ever hurt him, sending ice flooding through my veins. I managed to sit up, ignoring the searing pain in my ribs. I had to tell him, make him see I’d never hurt him.
“I said don’t move,” Gabe snapped at me.
I ignored him and turned to look Mason square in the face. “I wasn't. I wouldn’t,” I choked, my eyes filling with tears.
“Hey, hey.” He scrambled across the bed and reached my side in a flash, his hand cupping my face. “I know, okay? I know.”
“You were having a nightmare.” Fuck, my throat hurt. “I was trying to wake you.”
“Jesus, Mason, are you really gonna believe his bullsh—”
Gabe went silent, his mouth snapping shut, his eyes ping-ponging between the two of us as he belatedly took in the scene he’d gate-crashed into. I could almost hear the cogs in his brain whirring as the situation became clear.
“Why are you both naked?” he asked, narrowed eyes returning to Mason, whose cheeks were flooding scarlet. Gabe’s eyes suddenly widened before he screwed up his face in disgust. “Aww, shit, Mason. In my fucking bed too.” Mason had the good grace to look apologetic but also at a total loss for what to say next. I guessed being caught with another man when everyone believed you to be straight would do that.
Wanting to ease Mason’s embarrassment, I responded to Gabe. “I live next door but I’m staying here,” I managed to say, not specifically answering the question. I cleared my sore throat to continue. “In the guest room downstairs while I’m renovating my place.” I jerked my thumb in the general direction of my beach house. “I heard Mason shouting, so came up to find him thrashing around all over the bed.” I flicked my eyes to Mason, whose own were shuttered, keeping Gabe out. Keeping me out. A pit opened up in my stomach. I’d seen the same look on a few so-called straight men I’d hooked up with in the past. “Once I worked out he was having a nightmare, I-I tried to wake him.” My voice hardened. “Then you turned up.”
He grunted, unrepentant. “Is this true?” he asked Mason.
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“He omitted the part where he was already in bed with me.”
The air whooshed out of my lungs when he turned toward me and winked, stopping my heart, the action so unexpected. Fuck, the man was gonna kill me if his friend didn’t get there first.
Gabe’s mouth dropped open, and I might have enjoyed his discomfort more if the intense pain in my ribs hadn’t reappeared full force since my adrenalin rush had worn off. I grabbed my side wincing at the stab of pain. Mason instantly dropped to the floor beside me.
“Christ will you two put some fucking clothes on,” Gabe muttered, coming out of his stupor. “It’s way too early in the morning for all this bullshit.”
“Stop being an asshole and make yourself useful,” Mason snapped. “Go and get some painkillers and some ice.” He gently took my chin in his fingers and moved my head from side to side, assessing the damage. My mouth felt like I had cotton balls stuffed inside, so I’m sure at the minimum it must be badly bruised, if not swollen. “You punched him in the face, Gabe. What the fuck?”
“I didn’t punch him in the face,” he sniped. “I punched him in the back.” He threw me a final glare and left the room, stomping down the stairs, taking most of the tension away with him.
My body sagged in relief, and I instantly regretted the move as a stab of pain speared my ribs making me tense. “God, it hurts,” I moaned, lightly touching the area with my fingers.
“Painkillers will help, but you’ll need to take things easy for a while.” Mason continued to study my face, before he inhaled sharply, realization dawning. “I did this to you,” he stated, his voice shaky. “I hit you in the face.” I lowered my eyes, not wanting to see the guilt in his. “Oh, Ash, no,” he replied, heartbroken.
“Honestly, it’s nothing.” I hoped to brush the incident off, not wanting him to feel any more guilt and upset than he already did. “I’ve had worse injuries falling off my surfboard.” He looked away, the anguish clear in his eyes. Placing my hand on his jaw, I firmly moved his head until he had to look at me. “I promise I’m okay,” I said gently. He bobbed his head in agreement, but the sadness in his expression confirmed he didn’t believe a word. “Let’s get dressed,” I coaxed gently. Hopefully, we’d have time to discuss his nightmare later when we were alone. “Then I need drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.”
His crooked smile had the tension in my shoulders easing. “You might need to help me.” Then, waggling my eyebrows, I got a small laugh in return. “I may need to be manhandled to get my clothes in the right place.”
He shook his head ruefully. “What would I do without you?”
I hoped he’d never have to find out. “Have to put up with the asshole downstairs all by yourself?”
“He’s not an asshole.” My eyebrows hit my hairline, and I got another laugh. “Okay, maybe he is a small one, at least.”
Moving forward, his mouth closed gently over mine, the kiss sweet and full of promise. I leaned into him, enjoying the comfort of being close, not wanting him to stop. When he parted his lips and his tongue requested entry, I gladly let him in, nearly swooning at the tenderness of his caress, while trying to ignore the twinge of pain in my jaw.
Mason broke away, panting hard. “C’mon, let’s get you up,” he said, desire heavy between us. “After that, we can assess the damage.” Uncurling himself from the floor, he stood. His semi-hard cock again directly in front of my face, and too much of a temptation to ignore, so I opened my mouth to suck in the head, but this time the pain piercing my jaw made me cry out for an altogether different reason.
“Nuh-uh,” Mason admonished as he carefully helped me stand.
“No fair,” I grumbled. The next stab of pain firing along my side had me nearly passing out at the intensity of it. “Jesus.”
“On the bed,” he ordered. “You’re going nowhere until we get you seen by a doctor. I’ll fucking kill him,” he added, the anger and fear coloring his words. I grimaced as I let him carefully help me up, the pain in my ribs becoming more intense with every movement I made. By the time I got in the bed, I was sweating profusely from my exertions, my whole body as weak as a newborn kitten.
Mason piled up the pillows behind me and eased me down into them, before covering me with the sheet.
“Feeling more comfortable?” he asked me, his hand tenderly brushing the hair away from my forehead.
“Much, thank you.” Utterly drained and exhausted, I sank into the softness of the comfortable bed, feeling all warm and cared for. Despite the persistent ache in my ribs and the pain in my jaw, I couldn’t prevent my eyes from fluttering closed, and with Mason’s gentle fingers once more caressing my forehead and lazily sliding into my hair, I was conscious one minute, and passed out the next.
*
Daylight filtered into the room when I awoke next, though by the angle of the sun, it must be midafternoon. I wasn’t quite ready to fully open my eyes, so lay, well, more half sat, propped up by a few pillows, content in the doze-induced state I usually associated with waking within minutes of my morning alarm going off. I fought to get my bearings but quickly drifted off again, coming around sometime later.
I vaguely recollected being woken by a doctor and answering some questions. A bright light in my eyes and cold hands touching my body. But I’d been so out of it, the whole scenario might as well have been a dream as my mind struggled to differentiate fact from fiction.
A chair creaked beside me, only this time a warm hand stroked over my brow, the heat emanating from the palm comforting.
“Is he waking up?” An unfamiliar deep male voice asked.
“Not sure.” His voice I did know. The deep rumble had imprinted itself so deeply within my soul I’d easily pick it out anywhere, even if blindfolded, which, technically, I suppose I was.
The hand disappeared and the chair creaked again as Mason settled back down. He exhaled, long and heavy, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“He’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?”
“The doctor confirmed there were no major issues, didn’t she?”
“As far as she could tell after her limited examination, yes.”
“Well, there you go, then.”
They were both silent for a while.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on between you and lover boy here?”
“Not a lot to tell.”
I swam more toward consciousness but remained relaxed and quiet, wanting, and not wanting to hear the conversation going on around me.
“No?” the guy, Gabe, Mason’s friend, replied. “Why don’t I begin?”
“Fine,” Mason huffed, and I had to stop the smirk forming on my lips. He’d get so grumpy sometimes for seemingly no reason at all. I found the concept wonderfully endearing.
“How come he’s living here with you?” he asked.
“He told you already. He’s doing a reno on his house, and I wasn’t happy for him to stay there with all the dust and crap floating around.”
“So, you asked him to stay?”
He didn’t answer for a while. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I should have asked you first before offering.” Gabe must have made some sort of gesture of acceptance as they continued with the conversation.
“So, when did you two end up sleeping in my bed?” he asked with distaste. “I think I may burn those sheets after you leave.”
“Screw you,” Mason retaliated, but there was no malice laced in his reply. “We only used your bed the one time,” he told him. “And let’s just say, there wasn’t much sleeping going on.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mason,” Gabe whined. “Did you really have to go there?”
“Makes a change for you to be outraged by something I’ve done.”
A grunt—seemingly Gabe’s standard form of communication.
“Is it serious?”
The chair creaked and his hand returned, fingertips stroking through my hair. “It shouldn’t be.”
“But?”
The fingers moved down my face, caressing along my jaw and down my neck, and I had to fight every instinct I had not to lean into his touch. “I’ve no clue.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t seem too surprised by this?” Mason asked, ignoring the question.
“After all that’s happened, I’m not surprised by anything you do. Don’t get me wrong, the situation caught me unaware, but am I surprised? No, not in the slightest.” Someone got up. Gabe, I presumed, as Mason’s hand remained on my face. When he spoke next, his voice sounded warm and kind and nothing like how he’d spoken to me. “You’ve been through a hell of a lot, and it’s understandable you’d question every aspect of your life. Maybe it’s about discovering another side of yourself you’d like to explore. God knows, the women you’ve dated so far have done nothing for you, so perhaps now’s the time to try something new.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
I wanted to know the answer to his question too.
“You’ve dated some amazing women. Smart, funny, and beautiful women. Lindsay was your fiancée, for Christ’s sake, and we were all happy for you. But…”
“But what, Gabe?” Mason’s voice had an edge I’d yet to hear directed at me.
“But,” he reiterated, “it always seemed you were on the outside of the relationship looking in with every one of them. As if they all missed some essential piece, some spark of passion. I don’t know. But this guy? I can already see the difference in you—the possessiveness, the need to protect. I’ve not seen that before, which makes me think he’s different too.” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m hardly the one to be talking about finding someone special. I had two someones and look how well that turned out.” He spoke with such bitterness I was taken aback, swiftly working out the Gabe I’d met probably wasn’t the real one at all and simply a mask he presented to the world. He acted like a totally convincing asshole to cover his feelings, but the bravado was all for show, a way to stop people getting too close. I softened the tiniest amount toward him as it became clear whatever had happened in his past continued to haunt him, and he’d yet to recover from the hurt left behind.
“Hmm, maybe,” Mason hedged.
“So?”
“So, what are you gonna do about Ash?” Gabe’s voice had moved to my right, so he must have walked around the bed. “You know he’s barely out of diapers, right?”
“Jesus Christ. Make me feel worse, why don’t you?”
What?
“Look at him, Gabe. He’s got his whole life ahead of him. He has a house and money, and he lives here, is gonna stay here. Why the hell would he want to be saddled with a nutjob like me?”
A snort. “Cut the crap for goodness’ sake, will you? You are not a nutjob. Well, okay, one or two screws are coming loose, but you’re almost certainly not a nutjob. You’re my best friend, and you wouldn’t be if I thought that about you. So what if you’re suffering a minor setback? Big deal. You’ll get over it.”
“Will I?” Mason asked, unsure and worried. I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and hold him tight. “I’m barely holding myself together. Unless Ash is beside me, I can’t leave the house without having a panic attack. What kind of life could I offer him, shackled to me day and night.”
“You’re going outside?”
“Yeah, we went for a walk on the beach the other day.”
“You, taking a walk? Would you have done that alone?”
“Hell, no.”
“So he’s helping you heal, helping your recovery?”
Mason’s fingers were back in my hair. “I think he is.”
“So to answer your question,” Gabe stated gently, “yes, you will get over your problems, and by the sound of things, Ash will help. And as you improve and move on, why not take him with you and see where you end up?”
They both went quiet once more, and the time had come to let them know I was awake. Mason’s uncertainty about us made me nervous. I didn’t want to hear him voice his fears out loud while lying there in front of him pretending to be asleep. He’d been through a huge upheaval, and as we discussed last night, I didn’t want to be another complication. He deserved to recuperate in the best environment possible and with the least amount of stress. Besides, he wouldn’t be sticking around forever. He’d eventually return to his real life and leave me far behind. I might be better off pulling away before I got in too deep. Otherwise, when he leaves me—and he will leave—I’ll be the one who ends up getting hurt.
Shifting in the bed, I turned my head toward his voice and opened my eyes, squinting as the last rays of afternoon sun lit up the airy room. As my surroundings swam into focus, my gaze landed on Mason, his hair all over the place where he must have run his hands through it numerous times. His face held a pained expression, his eyes regretful, and his mouth drawn into a hard, tense line.
I tried to speak, but my throat had become too dry to work at all.
“Here.” He picked up the glass on the nightstand. “Drink some water.”
I took the offered straw in my mouth and sucked a couple of times, letting the tepid water slip down my throat, easing the dryness.
“What happened?” I croaked.
“You fainted.”
I glanced around the room again. “Shouldn’t I be in the hospital if I fainted?”
“We called the local doctor,” Gabe answered me. “One advantage of living in a small town, is a doctor who still makes house calls. She came out, checked you over.”
Mason sat forward on the chair next to the bed. “Without an X-ray, Doctor Arran can’t confirm if you’ve fractured any ribs or only bruised them,” he explained. “However, the rehabilitation is the same, and she’s left some information for you to look at. If the pain worsens or your temperature spikes, then we’ll need to take you to the hospital for further tests.”
I stared at him blankly, not sure what else to do.
“Also, Doctor Arran doesn’t think you have a concussion”—he grimaced—“despite me punching you in the face, but we will need to monitor you to make sure that’s the case.”
“Why don’t I hurt?”
“Drugs,” Mason responded, his twinkling eyes making my pulse trip. God, he’s so gorgeous and sexy. His messy hair and five o’clock shadow gave him a rugged look and made my heart flutter. I bet if he dressed in a sack and didn’t shave for a week, he’d never stop looking like an A-list movie star and not the hobo I’d resemble. “Lots and lots of drugs.”
I laughed but ended up coughing, then wincing, as pain shot through my body.
“Remind me to never get in a fight with you two again,” I moaned. “I’d definitely come out the loser every time.”
“Sorry,” Gabe mumbled, clearly uncomfortable about having to apologize.
I dismissed him with a wave. “You were protecting Mase from someone you judged to be attacking him. Why would I be unhappy about that?”
“Mase?” he queried, raising an eyebrow and looking over at the man in question.
If not for the fact all I ever see is Mason and wasn't sedated under a shit-ton of drugs, I’d likely have melted into a puddle at the lazy smile spreading across Gabe’s face, changing his whole demeanor. The usual scowl he wore no longer marred his handsome features, allowing me to finally see him . With his sharply angled cheekbones, square jaw, straight nose, and full mouth, he was stunning. Add in the olive skin, almost-black hair artfully styled like he’d just gotten out of bed, and the green eyes currently sparkling with humor, and he could stop traffic.
Mason gave him the finger.
I scrunched up my face, confused by his response.
“I only allow those closest to me to call me Mase,” he explained. He took my hand, linking us. “You’re one of a very select few.”
Me .
A weird feeling fluttered around in my chest, the sensation heating me, warming my heart, spreading its tendrils along my senses. For some reason, he’d allowed me to be a part of that small group and had done so from the very beginning without me even being aware of it.
If I’d hoped not to be a complication for the man, I discovered how wrong my previous decision had been. He’d somehow found his way into my heart, lodging himself deep, settling in, ensuring there was no way I’d ever give him up. He’d better learn to get used to having me around as I planned on going nowhere. No matter what.
A sudden memory from their conversation when Gabe had first arrived resurfaced in my fuzzy brain. “You told him,” I stammered. “You told him we…we…”
“Aaaaand, there’s my cue,” Gabe said. I’d already forgotten about him, so engrossed in looking at the dirty-blond, blue-eyed man sitting beside me. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He headed out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him.
“Order food,” Mason called after him and got a muffled reply in confirmation.
The sardonic look covering his face made me laugh. “What?” I asked.
“I hurt your jaw, bruised your ribs. Gabe nearly strangled you and left you almost needing a new kidney, and that’s what you remember?”
I bristled. “It’s important.”
A deep sexy laugh erupted from his throat and long fingers stroked down the side of my face. The man liked to touch me. “Yes, it is,” he replied, “very important.”
After getting up from the chair, he walked around the bed, removed his flip-flops and pulled the covers down, then carefully climbed into bed alongside me. With extreme tenderness, he enfolded me in his arms and molded his body along my side, his chin on the top of my head.
I relaxed against him, releasing a contented sigh. He made me feel so warm and fuzzy, and I loved that more than I probably should. When he held me, my past melted away, leaving only the present, only him.
“I’m not going to hide us, Ash. I may not be sure what’s going to happen, or how I’m going to deal with this, with us, but I won’t deny what’s going on.” He stilled and his hold on me tensed. “Unless you want me to?”