Chapter 5
PARKER
Itossed and turned all night. Every time Mason would shift, make a little snuffling noise, or just fucking exist, my body would go on full alert.
Even now, as the sun slits through the bottom of my blackout curtains, my body is aware of him in a way it’s never been before.
I’ve only ever felt this protective over Jacob, and even then, not this kind of protectiveness.
I rub my sternum, not sure what that feeling in my chest is still.
Last night, when I’d watched him kill his uncle, watched the fear blossom across his face, I’d had this unrelenting need to make sure he was okay.
Not just safe from the repercussions from his actions, but make sure he didn’t hurt inside.
The sound of Jacob cooking downstairs filters into the bedroom, which in turn appears to slowly wake Mason from his deep slumber.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as he stretches under the blankets and has a jaw-cracking yawn.
He appears to remember where he is, because he squeezes his eyes tightly, slowly lifting the blankets to his nose to breathe in deeply.
Oh. I quickly look away and squeeze my own eyes shut in pretend sleep.
The bed trembles as he climbs out, then he carefully steps over me to head toward the bathroom.
The sound of the shower turning on does something to me I can’t explain. Mason using my shower… Mason naked. Oh my god, Parker, stop imagining your friend naked. Because Mason’s my friend. I don’t have any friends besides Dante. I don’t let anyone close enough to be my friend.
I’m sweating and near a panic attack by the time Mason wanders out of the bathroom with wet hair, still wearing my clothes from the night before.
He has a scar on his left bicep, thick and surgical in appearance.
What is it from? Mason must feel my stare because he glances over his shoulder as he inspects my desk.
He looks shy, maroon splashing across his cheeks, almost the same shade as his dark auburn hair.
“Morning,” Mason says shyly.
“Morning,” I echo, voice huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
“It sounds like breakfast downstairs?”
I nod slowly as I sit up. “That’s Jacob. He’s the cook.”
“I remember… from when Reid was missing.”
“Right.” I roll to a stand and look back at Mason, only to catch him turning away to stare at the door like it holds all the secrets of the universe. “Wanna go see if there’s any more news? And get some breakfast.”
“Sure,” Mason replies, but he sounds anything but sure.
I grab a hoodie from my desk chair and tug it on, then lead Mason down the stairs. Jacob must be cooking waffles because Hayden is snarking loudly at him. Hayden is very particular about his waffles.
“You’re going to burn them,” Hayden hisses from beside Jacob.
Jacob just sends an amused look his way. “How often have I burned your waffles, boss?”
That only seems to infuriate Hayden further, which is pretty typical for them.
I make enough noise they hear us both shuffling in.
Jacob glances at me over his shoulder, nods, then returns to his cooking.
No Dante and Reid yet, so I pull a chair out for Mason, kindly pushing it in for him once he’s at the table.
I ignore Jacob and Hayden’s muffled arguing.
Instead, I focus on making myself a cup of coffee and a cup of black tea for Mason.
Back at the table, I put a little milk and sugar into my coffee, then settle in the chair beside Mason.
The kitchen is warm from Jacob’s cooking, and the light outside is that soft winter yellow that promises a chilly day.
Hopefully today is calmer than yesterday, and hopefully we get some good news.
“Hey, Eastport is on CNN right now,” Dante announces as he swaggers into the kitchen, heading straight for the plate of sausages sitting invitingly on the island. He grabs one, takes a bite, then turns around with a shit-eating grin. “You will never guess what happened overnight.”
“No, I won’t guess, so please just tell me,” I reply dryly.
Dante looks a little put out but just shrugs while hastily fixing himself breakfast. Jacob goes to swat him since it’s obviously not ready, but he expertly dodges Jacob after years of practice.
I fight the urge to chuckle. Dante grabs a hot waffle from the plate and dodges away from Hayden to join us at the table.
“They found Senator Warton’s body… down by the river.”
Hayden abruptly turns around. “What?”
“Yeah,” Dante answers around a mouthful of sausage. “I guess he was mugged.”
“I don’t understand…” Mason looks around the room at everyone, cheeks flushed. “But I killed him.”
Jacob waves the spatula at Mason to make a point. “Nuh-uh, my dude, he was mugged by the riverfront, and that’s the story we all need to stick to for like the rest of forever.”
Mason looks so confused, I have to hold back a laugh. After years of all this, I’ve gotten used to rolling with the punches. Like Reid said last night, it really is always freaking something.
Jacob makes both me and Mason a plate, setting them down on the table in front of us.
A moment later, a pink-cheeked Reid strolls into the kitchen.
Mason watches his brother make a cup of orange juice with an amused, tender sort of look on his face.
The way Mason looks at Reid speaks of so much love.
Do I ever look at Jacob that way? I love my twin, but I cannot imagine looking at him like cotton candy shoots out of his ears.
“Morning,” Reid greets everyone.
“And?” Dante presses.
Reid narrows his eyes. “I am sorry about the tantrum last night.”
“We’re used to it by now,” Jacob teases while taking his own seat at the table.
Hayden is last because he has to pour approximately thirty-two ounces of syrup all over his waffles, much to Jacob’s combined chagrin and fond annoyance.
“So… we just accept the fact that my uncle’s body was seemingly moved and made to look like he was mugged?” Mason asks, voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. I kind of like it a little, when he gets sassier. It proves his walls around us are lowering.
Hayden grunts as he shovels a huge bite of waffle into his mouth. “Yesh, just go widdet.”
Jacob turns to glare at Hayden. “What?”
Hayden rolls his eyes, swallows, then turns back to Mason. “Just go with it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mason visibly blanches. “So many things. Do not ask a person with anxiety a question like that.”
“Hmmm, well. We’ll figure it out. I still think Parker moving into your house isn’t a bad idea, in case this all goes tits up.”
“Great!” Mason says again with obvious forced enthusiasm.
Hayden grins lecherously. “Glad you’re so excited. Welcome to the family.”
Reid sighs, that sigh he always lets out when we’re all being particularly us. “Mason, it’ll be fine. At least we don’t have to deal with Marc anymore. That’s the positive.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Mason grumbles. He pushes around the waffle on his plate instead of eating it.
“It’s really good,” I murmur out of the corner of my mouth.
Mason sneaks a look at me, then angrily stabs the waffle, taking a hesitant bite.
Something hot and decidedly weird blooms in my belly while watching Mason make himself eat.
The other boys are quiet during the majority of breakfast, save for a few delighted moans at how good Jacob’s food always is.
Once done, I grab Mason’s mostly cleared plate and head over to the sink to help Reid with the dishes.
“No.” Reid shakes his head and looks sheepish, which is odd for him. “I, uh, I have dishes for the next week.”
“But we usually do them together…”
Reid clears his throat and grimaces. “Listen, just… I’m washing dishes for the week, okay?”
I shrug because I don’t really care to argue.
When I turn back around, Dante’s got his eyes firmly on Reid, a look of fond pride in his eyes.
Oh yuck. Mason’s staring down at his nails like they’re the most interesting thing in the world, probably to avoid watching his brother and Dante’s odd dynamic.
“I’ll pack a bag, then we can head over to your house, if you want?”
Mason looks up at me, unsure, but nods all the same. “Yeah, thank you. I like your house but…”
I smile down at him. “Nothing like your own house. I get it.”
Mason nods again, a flush working its way across his cheeks.
Hayden snorts from across the table, and when I glance over, he rolls his eyes and makes a jerking off motion.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I make a shooting myself in the head motion then point at him.
Jacob snorts at us, then crumbles under the fury of Hayden’s gaze.
I leave them be and head up to my room to pack.
I toss all the necessary daily stuff into a duffel bag, including my gun safe, then put a few mission-ready suits into a garment bag.
Grabbing my rifle from the wall in my walk-in closet, I double-check the safety is on, put it into its soft case, and sling it over my shoulder.
“Ready to go?” I call out to Mason the moment my feet hit the first floor.
Mason turns to look at me, then back to Reid, who is still dutifully washing dishes.
He nods hurriedly but pauses when he stands.
Almost as if second-guessing himself, he heads over to Reid and whispers something to him.
Reid turns toward Mason with a soft smile and reaches up a bubble-covered hand to tap his own nose.
Mason grins warmly before copying the movement with his own finger.
Once the car is packed and Mason is loaded into the passenger seat, I climb in and start it up. It’s so freaking cold out, I toggle with the heat to get it to blasting.
“What was the finger thing about?” I ask curiously.
Mason flushes. “It’s this thing we developed when we were little to say we love one another.”
That’s cute. “Can I ask you something?”