Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Was it possible to give oneself whiplash while standing on solid ground?
Sky’s neck actually hurt as he stomped back to Sarina and Mason’s and glared at his phone.
Out of nowhere, his mother had decided that he should stay with her and that it was inconsiderate of Sarina and Mason to monopolize so much of his time.
He told her he wasn’t packing his things and relocating if Nadine wasn’t there and an argument had ensued.
He needed to have sex.
It was way too late and overcast for a long, hard run and he didn’t want to use the treadmill at his sister’s.
Running indoors while not moving felt unnatural, and he was too aware of the bouncing of the belt and the machine.
The only other way Sky would be able to fully relax and rest was if someone—or something—fucked him hard enough to make him forget his own name and stamp out the anxious, twitchy vibration in his nervous system.
Thanks to his mother’s name-calling and histrionics, Sky felt like a fuse that was about to blow.
There would be alcohol at Mason and Sarina’s, but drinking made Sky moodier and much more self-destructive.
It distorted his senses, and he got disoriented around his fourth or fifth drink.
His ability to gauge time was completely gone when he was drunk.
A night partying would feel like a days’ long bender, and he would be legitimately confused about what day it was when he recovered.
Other people thought it was funny, but for Sky it was like waking up in another dimension.
He always panicked until he found his phone or talked to someone.
Not wanting more pity or to look like even more of a freak, Sky never made a big deal about the other side-effects and “drank” socially.
Plus, having a glass to hold or a bottle to fidget with and casually sip from gave Sky something to do with his hands instead of flapping them when he felt overstimulated or overwhelmed.
Mason and Sarina’s house was quiet when Sky let himself in and checked the kitchen. The lights were turned low and Mason was seated at his usual spot at the island, reading a book and drinking a beer.
“Where is everyone?” Sky asked quietly and checked his watch. It was 7:32. “Are they in bed already?”
Mason laughed softly as he shut the book and stood.
“Sam’s at my parents’ and Sina’s working tonight so it’s just us.
They usually keep him when she works nights, in case there’s an emergency in town and I have to run out.
” He notched his chin at the fridge. “I just packed up the leftovers and put them away but I can make you a plate before everything gets cold.”
Sky shook his head. “Not really hungry.”
“Are you sure? It’s no problem,” Mason insisted as he opened the fridge and reached for one of the glass containers.
A plate was waiting for Sarina on the top shelf, neatly wrapped in foil with a Post-It note.
He often left dinner or a sweet treat in the fridge for her and there was always a note that said something like “You’re such a baddie! ” or “So proud of you!”
“I promise, I’m good, Mase. Mom ordered dinner. It wasn’t anything I wanted, but I ate part of a salad and some breadsticks and I found some vanilla ice cream in the freezer.”
Those notes were gross before, when Sky thought Mason was fooling Sarina.
Now that he knew the truth and that Mason’s love for her was genuine, just not at all romantic, Sky felt like a dick.
He might even be a touch envious because Mason was too good at being the perfect husband and father.
Because he wasn’t faking it, and he loved everything about his life.
Good for them. They deserve to be happy after all that Mom and this family put them through.
“How about some juice, or a beer, or a glass of wine, then?” Mason offered and Sky nodded, not wanting to be rude.
“Whatever you’re drinking is fine,” He pointed at the bottle of beer on the counter next to Mason.
“Coming right up.”
Mason opened the fridge again and ducked to retrieve another beer from the bottom shelf. The cap was twisted off and Mason slid the bottle across the island, cheering softly when Sky caught it and took a long drink. They were quiet for several moments, and Sky started to feel awkward.
“I don’t drink a lot of beer but this isn’t bad.”
Jesus, kill me.
Mason humphed as he examined his bottle. “It’s from a local brewery. I don’t like anything too hoppy, and this already has citrus in it.”
“Right.” Sky nodded along. He had no idea if he liked “hoppy” beers. They all tasted the same to him. “The citrus part is nice.” Probably. He couldn’t taste anything but bitterness and it made his mouth tickle.
There was another long, awkward pause. Sky was about to excuse himself but Mason coughed and stepped into the breach again.
“So… How was your day with Adele?”
“Dreadful,” Sky said, without hesitating. “It boggles my mind even more, why you haven’t run screaming from us and this place.”
“It’s not that bad. The mayor’s pretty cool, right?” Mason attempted but Sky shook his head.
“Even the gay couples are obnoxiously straight here. It’s been over a week and it’s warping me. I don’t know how you can stand this.”
Mason’s brows pinched as he frowned. “Being…gay isn’t all that I am. It’s not even in the top five things I care about if I’m being honest. That’s just sex and doesn’t matter more to me than all of this.” He gestured around them.
“Come on, you can’t really believe that,” Sky said with a dubious lift of his brows.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever find the one, but at least there’s a chance I’ll find someone I can connect with on a deeply freaky level when I’m in New York.
Out here? There’s nothing. It’s a dick desert,” he grumbled as he took out his phone, making Mason choke on his beer.
“A dick desert?”
“A dick desert,” Sky sighed sadly. “We all cope with stress in different ways and I cope by hiding in my work, exercising, or getting my back cracked like a glow stick.”
“I see,” Mason said weakly and Sky snorted because he doubted it.
“When was the last time you spent a day with my mother?”
Mason shook his head quickly. “No, I would never do that. Sina would never make me do that.”
“Lucky you,” Sky said petulantly. “I had to and she went on and on about the funeral and why I should be staying with her and kept asking why this book is taking so long. I pointed out that I would be writing right now if she hadn’t bullied me into coming and helping with the estate and all this downsizing bullshit. ”
“What did she say to that?”.
Sky pretended to take a drag off of an invisible cigarette.
“Don’t be silly, darling. You’d find some other excuse if you weren’t here,” he said in the same flat, disdainful manner.
Mason swore and shielded his face. “God, it’s like she’s in the room with us. No wonder you’re in a shitty mood.”
“It gets worse,” Sky groaned. “I promised I’d meet her for lunch tomorrow. I’m going to take a bath with the toaster if I don’t get laid soon.”
“Settle down. It's been nine days.”
Sky shook his head. “It’s been a little—a lot—longer than that. Closer to two months. I was dealing with some stuff before Nana died. Then, Mom conned me into coming back and staying. ”
“Is everything okay?” Mason sounded genuinely concerned so Sky laughed and waved it off.
“Work/writing stuff. I dug myself into a hole with my current manuscript and stacked some deadlines. Nothing major or serious, just hermit mode. I have a habit of losing track of time and life and letting everything else go until it’s finished, or I reach a place where I can safely leave it.”
“Safely? I didn’t realize writing could be so dangerous,” Mason mused, his frown intensifying.
“Are you kidding?” Sky laughed. “The best writers have always been the ones who chased danger and risked the most for their craft. I think the worst thing an author can do is seek safety. And it’s when I can’t leave my work and when it tortures me the most that I know I’m doing it right.”
“Now, that does sound like you, Sky.” The serious frown broke and a warm smile spread across Mason’s face, his eyes glowing as he watched Sky. “You’ve always been brave and known exactly who you are and never let anything stop you. That’s amazing.”
“Ew.” Sky’s face pinched as he leaned away, confused and unsure of what he was supposed to do or what came next. “Don’t get sentimental now. I’m already emotionally tapped out.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.” Mason laughed as he went to get himself another beer. “I’ve missed the hell out of you and you’re out there, doing all kinds of amazing things. I’ve always been your biggest fan.”
“That’s just going to go to my head,” Sky warned into his bottle before taking a drink and washing down a grimace. “And make this more confusing.”
“Sorry, I can’t pretend you aren’t awesome.” Mason winked as he twisted the top off, his beard and the rippling and flexing muscles under his tight T-shirt momentarily distracting Sky. He had always been athletic and fit but the beard had made him even hotter.
Fuck him for aging so well and being so fucking perfect.
It was easier, when Sky hated Mason. He had a reason to avoid looking at him or talking to him and it was too tempting, knowing that Mason was gay and thought of Sky in that way too. And he was so fucking sexy, with his stupid, handsome, bearded face and his ridiculously perfect body and big ass.
There. I hate him again.
“Or, that it isn’t great having you back,” Mason added, reminding Sky that they were in the middle of a conversation.
“Fine. It’s actually nice being back and reconnecting now, despite my mother,” Sky conceded. “Even though, I would be miserable if I had to live here.”
“You know, as mayor, I take that personally.” Mason lowered and rested his elbows on the island and leaned closer.
He still smelled perfect—clean boy, with a hint of something like lavender or bergamot—Sky noted begrudgingly.
“There isn’t a lot here as far as entertainment and Roseview doesn’t really have a gay community yet.
But we could! This town has come a long way and we love our gay neighbors. ”
“All six of them. What about you?” Sky challenged and this time, Mason didn’t hesitate.
“Nope. That would be a scandal because I’m married to a woman and it would reinforce all kinds of stupid stereotypes.
And people wouldn’t support me if they thought I was a liar and a fraud.
No one’s ever said that about you, though.
People love to brag about you being from Roseview, even if they say you’re too good for us now and a stuck-up celebrity. ”
“Fuck off. I’ve never acted like that and you know why I’ve never fit in.” Sky’s eyes widened.
“You’ve never fit in because Roseview’s stuck up and you were too smart and too creative for everyone to get their heads around, but they see it now.”
Sky gagged and rolled his eyes. “Stop it. I don’t know why you’re flattering me but—”
“I mean it!” Mason insisted, but he did wince at his beer. “It’s a lot easier to admit I’ve missed you and that I’m a fan after four of these, but I always knew you were too good for Roseview. That’s almost empty. How about another?” Mason nodded at Sky’s bottle.
He shook his head. “I’m barely hanging on as it is.”
“That’s right, you’re wasting away out here in the dick desert.” Mason raised his beer and hummed as he drank. “I find that toys help. You could order some,” he said, shocking Sky.
Why? He wasn’t sure. Lots of gay men had toys but Sky couldn’t imagine Mason fucking a Fleshlight or drilling himself with a dildo.
And yet he was!
Sky stared over Mason’s shoulder, simultaneously imagining both scenarios. “Okay. I’ll take another beer for the road,” he said weakly, his mouth had gotten so dry all of a sudden.
“Gotcha!” Mason turned toward the fridge. This time, Sky leaned and got a good look as he bent over and reached for the bottom shelf.
Bless that big, beautiful hockey butt.
“I thought I was staying at my mother’s house, so no, I did not pack any toys. I checked Grindr on the way back from Mom’s place,” he confided and thanked Mason when he passed Sky the bottle. “Truly a dick desert. I can’t wait to get back to the city.”
“I’ll take it up with the town council at our next meeting and see what we can do about that. Can’t have the world thinking we’re a dick desert or that we don’t care about our most famous resident,” Mason said seriously, causing Sky to cackle.
He grabbed the counter as it burst from him, his first honest laugh since he’d arrived in Roseview. It felt good, and Sky felt lighter. Like he could survive another ten days with his mother.
“Thanks, but I’m hardly the most famous resident or the wealthiest. I should probably finish this in my room.” He backed away with his beer, turning for the stairs. “Have a good night.”
“Have a good night, Sky.” Mason smiled and offered a salute, but Sky could feel the heat of his gaze.
It followed Sky up the stairs and he was confused on so many levels.
Was Mason flirting with me?
Did Sky mind?
He stopped outside his door and wondered what might happen if Mason was and if they had acted on their impulses before, all those years ago.
Then, Sky considered the consequences: the nightmare that would ensue if they were caught or the possible emotional turmoil if either of them developed even stronger feelings.
“Fuck, no.” He shook his head as he opened the door, quickly shutting it behind him.
Don’t make this any messier.
He jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
There was a text message from Mason.
Mason Cartwright: Cheer up. There might be an oasis in the desert.
Sky set down the beer before he dropped onto the bed, then fell back on the pillows and stared at the message. What the hell did that mean?
Skylar Sutton: Okay… Thanks?
He placed his phone on his chest and rested his hands on it, pondering the meaning of an oasis in the desert.
In the desert. The dick desert?
“Oh! Fuck!”