“Because I couldn’t say no.” His anger fades, and a heaviness settles in my chest at the sadness now plaguing his tone. “My parents were loving, supportive, incredible people. I used to think they were perfect. Looking back at it now, we were pretty spoiled. Jack more so than me, with him being so much younger. Neither of us were ever expected to do chores. We were never forced to do homework or activities we didn’t want to do. They trusted us to make our own decisions and accepted whatever we chose to do.” He pauses, huffing out a bitter laugh, and I can guess what’s coming.
“That’s where Jack’s naivety comes from. Because while we were both good kids, it’s not exactly the best way to raise responsible adults. They’re lucky it didn't backfire on them.”
I bite my tongue, holding back from pointing out that it did. With Jack anyway. Instead, I gesture for him to go on, offering him a soft smile.
He smiles back and his shoulders drop, a little of the tension leaving his body.
“The only thing my dad ever expected of me growing up was that I’d look after Jack. He drilled it into me over and over. ‘Keep an eye on your baby brother, Mason. Make sure he doesn’t eat any of his toys. You’ll make sure Jack’s doing okay at school, right? He needs to know his big brother has his back. We’reout tonight; can you organise dinner for you and your brother? He won’t eat properly if you don’t.’ Dad gave me every reason to resent having a brother, but I always did as they asked, no matter how much I hated it. If anything, a little part of me resented Dad for asking. And after they died, I would have given anything to hear his words again. ‘I'm proud of you, son. We’re lucky to have you.’”
My chest burns for all that he’s been through, and I hate that I want to protect him. “He was an adult when they died. You shouldn’t have had to take that on.”
“He was barely nineteen. And a young nineteen-year-old. He’d never had to do anything for himself. I’m still surprised he survived four months in Los Angeles.”
“I’m not sure he was alone in that either. He was part of a great team. His teammates all looked out for each other. His roommate too.”
“And he had you.”
I internally wince at how uncomfortable he looks, but he’s right. “He did.”
Mason nods a few times before shaking his head. “Anyway, I chose to take on that responsibility. I promised them both in the hospital before they died. Jack wasn’t there. He had no say in the matter.”
“I get all of that. I understand why you felt the need to help Jack, and I’m sorry you’ve held on to that pressure all these years. But that doesn’t answer my question. Not entirely.”
Mason sighs softly, his tired expression chipping away at my walls. “I first wrote to you because he begged me to. He made it seem like the most important thing in the world. And he was hurting. After that, I wrote back all the times I noticed he’d forgotten. When he’d been distracted by something else, ignoring all responsibilities. I knew from your letters that they meant something to you. I didn’t want him to let you down. No,that’s not true.Ididn’t want to let you down.” His voice cracks as he grips the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with his admission. And I don’t know how I feel. About him, about Jack.
“It wasn’t Jack asking?”
“Not always, no.”
Nausea coils in my stomach. This is so fucked up.
“What if I’d visited and fallen for Jack? The guy I thought was writing to me. The guy that didn’t care as much as I was led to believe. What if his friend hadn’t needed him?Orwhat if it had all played out the way it did and he asked you to walk away? What then?”
“If I’m being honest, I would have walked away. At—"
“I can’t…” My eyes water because that’s what I thought.
“You didn’t let me finish. I would have walked awayat first. Because that’s what I’ve programmed myself to do. To protect him. Not anymore though. Heaskedme to walk away. And I did. But I walked away fromhim.”
“What?”
“Why do you think I’m here? I’ve paid my dues. I’ve done all that I can, and I’m choosing you. No, I’m choosingme. For the first time in years. I’m choosingus.”
As hard as I fight it, a soft smile tugs at my lips and Mason sighs in relief. “I’m happy for you. I am. But how would this work? You can’t just pack up your bags and move to LA.”
“You’re right; I can’t. It’s way more complicated than that. But if you’ll have me, I want to work it out. I want to start fresh and get to know you for real.” He steps closer and tentatively cups my face, his gaze fixed on my eyes, waiting for me to react.
When I nod, a smile lights up his beautiful face.
“I’m not asking for forever. You’re not ready for that. And while I’m well aware we don’t always have time, I’d rather wait than risk never seeing you again. I’m here asking you fornow.Begging you to give me a chance. Because I can’t let you go. I can’t letusgo.I don’t want to.”
He whispers the last of his words, and my eyes widen as he unknowingly repairs a piece of my heart. Only I’m not sure I can risk breaking it again. Even if he’s not asking me to. “What makes you think I want that anymore? You hurt me and I don’t think—”
Mason grabs the letter from my hand and holds it above my head, interrupting my rant. I don’t get the chance to ask what the hell he’s doing, before he sinks a hand into my hair, his hold possessive, his lips taking mine.
A warmth runs through me as he pours everything into the kiss, coaxing for me to respond. And I give in, returning his kiss with reckless abandon, wordlessly admitting that he doesn’t have to ask. He already has me, no matter how desperate I am to pretend otherwise.
He growls against my mouth, his tongue peeking out to trace my lips, and I melt into him, granting him entry, lifting to my toes to deepen the kiss.
