Chapter 11
MASON
Cash leapt out of bed like a scalded cat and bolted. I was too stunned to follow, but Dog darted after him. By the time my brain had caught up to what had just happened and reminded my body to actually start moving, there was no way I could have caught him.
If he hadn’t been downstairs standing right in front of the closed door of the clinic, that was. His arm was extended, his hand touching the doorknob, but he wasn’t moving. It was as though he’d made it that far and been instantly frozen to the spot.
As the lights came on, he turned around to face me. “Sorry, I—” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Sorry. I’m supposed to feed the kittens.”
He looked humiliated. He looked very young and very afraid, and my heart hurt for him.
It was obvious that every cell in his body was screaming at him to flee, but he’d said he’d stay.
He was still here because he’d made a promise to some stray kittens.
How fucking incredible was that? How fucking impossibly sweet was he?
“Cash.” I didn’t know what to say to not push him into further distress. But it was the middle of the night, and he was upset, and so was I, and I figured we both needed some comfort right now. “Do you want a hot chocolate?”
I didn’t wait for him to answer but turned and headed for the kitchen, letting Cash follow at his own pace.
Dog, who clearly thought he wasn’t moving fast enough, yo-yoed between us the whole way there.
Cash slid silently into a chair. I pretended not to notice him wiping at his eyes with the hem of his shirt, keeping my gaze fixed on where I was stirring the milk for the hot chocolate.
When it was ready, I poured it into two mugs and carried them to the table, sliding one wordlessly over to Cash.
His knuckles were white with how hard he gripped the handle of the mug when he picked it up, and I pretended not to notice that either.
I just took a sip and hummed like there was nothing at stake here, and after giving me a cautious glance, Cash took a sip of his own.
We sat like that for a while until Cash was no longer vibrating with tension, and I considered how to talk to him without fucking this up.
Because I really, really didn’t want to fuck this up, and I knew that with one wrong word from me, he’d bolt out that door and I’d probably never see him again.
In the end, I asked, “Have you kissed anyone before?”
Cash looked up quickly, catching my gaze for a second before looking down again and shaking his head. Then he looked up again, held my gaze, and whispered, “I never wanted to kiss anyone before. But it’s different with you.”
His brow creased, like maybe he was expecting me to laugh at him or something, and my chest ached for him.
“I’m flattered you want to kiss me,” I said. Then, so there wasn’t any doubt about my attraction to Cash, I added, “And just so we’re clear, I like you too and I’d like to kiss you some more, if that’s what you want.”
A look of surprise flashed across Cash’s features but he didn’t say anything, and I made myself wait while he got his thoughts together.
There was no rush. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere.
Finally, he took another mouthful of his hot chocolate.
Then he turned the mug in his hands and stared into it like it held the secrets of the universe before asking, “Then why’d you say no? ”
His voice cracked a little, and so did my heart.
If talking was hard for Cash, how much more difficult had it been for him to do something as bold as kissing me? And even though I hadn’t meant to reject him, I could see now how he’d taken what I said that way. He’d heard my initial rejection and filled in the blanks.
But I hadn’t said no because I didn’t want this. I wanted it more than I had any right to. I just didn’t want Cash to do something he’d regret later simply because he was desperate for comfort.
Watching him with his shoulders hunched like he was bracing himself for a blow, it was suddenly imperative that I make him understand that I really was attracted to him, and I did want to kiss him. I wanted to do anything he’d let me.
“I didn’t mean it as a no,” I said. “I’m sorry you thought that.
I just wasn’t expecting it, and I assumed you didn’t know what you wanted because you were upset from…
from a nightmare?” I waited for his nod of confirmation.
“Which is bullshit, obviously, because it feels like you still want to do it.”
Cash snorted, but he shot me a tiny, hopeful half smile that was a little wobbly around the edges. “Yeah,” he said.
The tightness in my chest eased, and I grinned back. “If you want, you can try kissing me again, and I’ll try not to fuck up this time.”
That earned me a proper smile and a whispered, “I want to. With you.”
He didn’t specify exactly what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t know. But whatever it was, I was on board. I nodded. “Yeah. We can do that.”
Cash spun his mug around between his palms one last time, then got up and approached my side of the table.
He stood there awkwardly as I shuffled my chair back from the table, leaving a space for whatever he wanted to do.
He flashed me a grin that was part nerves, part sass and straddled my lap.
He was warm and close, his weight anchoring me wholly in this moment.
His dark gaze held mine, and it felt profound because Cash so often didn’t look at me, or at anyone.
Cash dragged a fingertip slowly down my cheek and then hesitated, raising his eyebrows at me in a silent query.
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.
Cash leaned in slowly and pressed his mouth against mine, and this time, I was ready.
My lips parted under his, and his breath caught.
When I reached up and put one hand on the nape of his neck, he shivered and let out a breathy laugh, little puffs of air that were warm against my mouth.
He squirmed on my lap and I sucked in a breath, my focus torn between the weight of him on my thighs and the gentle pressure of his lips, soft and pliant against mine.
Cash cupped my face in his hands and our tongues brushed against each other as we exchanged slow, lingering kisses that I never wanted to end.
We kissed until we were breathless and my cock was half-hard in my pajama pants, and it was only when Cash’s sleep pants started emitting a persistent soft chime that I pulled back.
Cash climbed out of my lap and I blinked at him in confusion. “Kittens,” he whispered, pulling his phone from his pocket and silencing the alarm. He grinned at me, his lips kissed red and the color high in his cheeks.
“Right,” I said, my voice rough. I stood, all too aware that my dick was outlined by the fabric of my pajamas and clearly hard.
Cash’s gaze drifted down and back up, his cheeks pink but his mouth twitching as though he was fighting a smile.
But if Cash was pleased with himself, he’d earned the right.
And I could see that he had a pretty decent erection of his own going on, so at least we were on the same page.
Not that it mattered when I was being cockblocked by kittens.
“You wanna get the formula ready and bring it up?” I asked, and Cash nodded and disappeared in the direction of the treatment room.
I headed upstairs, the old staircase creaking under my bare feet and Dog at my heels.
When I opened the door to the spare room, the kittens were awake, making more noise than should be possible for something so small.
I picked up the carrier, watching Dog cautiously, but he ignored the kittens and curled up on the faded rug, put his head on his paws, and closed his eyes.
I sat on the edge of Cash’s bed and extracted the kittens from the carrier.
A lot of my job was dirty and hard and heartbreaking, but the trade-off came in moments like this, where I got to snuggle with four tiny cats.
I lay down on the unused half of the bed and cradled them against my stomach, stroking them gently.
Their fur was soft as silk, and their purring vibrated against my skin, sending me into a kind of a daze.
I closed my eyes and let some of the tension I always seemed to be carrying slip away as I thought about Cash and the kiss and what it meant. I didn’t think it had been a one-off. I hoped it wasn’t. But Cash had been quite clear that he wanted this—wanted me.
And I wanted him too.
Despite his quiet nature, Cash somehow managed to be upbeat, and when I was around him, it didn’t feel like my future held nothing but debt and exhaustion and fighting parents and asshole pet owners.
It felt like there might be some good too.
And I thought that maybe Cash was one of those good things.
The fur was warm under my fingertips and the bed was comfy, with Dog’s familiar snoring in the background. I drifted.
The next thing I knew, a hand was cupping my cheek and a soft voice was saying, “Mason?”
I lurched upright, causing the kittens to slide across my stomach. “Ow!” I hissed as four sets of claws hooked into my belly and the kittens did their best to stay in place, squeaking indignantly.
Cash scooped them up two at a time and put them back in the carrier, laughing silently.
“Are you mocking my pain?” I said, pulling up my shirt so he could see the row of tiny pinpricks.
Cash grinned at me, bright eyed, and I grinned back, and the kittens meowed their outrage.
I held out a hand and Cash handed me a kitten, and between us it took barely any time before we had them fed and toileted and tucked up in their nest of towels. Cash stroked the orange one’s fur with a fingertip before setting the carrier back on the side table.
I realized I was still sitting on his bed and I went to get up, but he sat back down beside me and put a hand on my arm, not meeting my gaze. I waited, unsure what was going to happen next but here for it, whatever it was.