Even if Tristan had a tendency to treat him like one. Chase wasn’t bothered by it. Hell, they had a great relationship, as far as exes went. They were just more friends than lovers, which is why it lasted as long as it had. But at that moment, Chase had better things to do than listen to Tristan’s self-created relationship drama.
“Talk to me, boo.”
“You aren’t allowed to call me that anymore.”
Tristan snickered. “I wasn’t allowed to call you that back then, either. Come on. What’s up? You seem really stressed today.”
“I’m always stressed.”
“No, you’re not. You were all smiles and whistling when you got back from vacay with the ex-hubby.”
Chase wanted to correct him and sayhusband, but he bit his lip, because Tristan was right. In the month since he’d returned to work, he’d been chipper—excited even—but the more time he spent away from Mason, the more unnerved he became. They had their share of interaction, texting or talking on the phone, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Heneededmore. And even though there was the promise of seeing Mason again at Emery’s wedding, it seemed so fucking far away… and would be for such a brief amount of time.
He wanted to have that hot sex and be close to his man again, especially since Mason had reminded him of what he’d been missing for so long.
“Come on, Chase. You gonna tell me there’s not more to that story?” Tristan pressed. “Really? Or explain why you keep checking your phone all the time now—something you never used to do?”
“Well, aren’t you observant as ever?” Chase asked, and Tristan winked. “But you don’t get to pry into my personal life anymore. I’ll get to the Brewer & Metzger account when I get a chance.”
“Ooh, am I getting the cold shoulder? Does this mean I won’t be getting any booty tonight?”
“I have a feeling you will be anyway.”
Tristan chuckled. He popped his shoulder and kicked his head back. “If Marco and I get together, I don’t have any doubts in my mind about that. But he’s been sort of evasive recently, so we’ll see.”
Chase’s phone vibrated beside him on the desk, and Tristan hardly had to glance around the room before his gaze zeroed in on the source of the noise. Tristan nabbed it from beside Chase’s laptop, singing out, “Looks like the ex-hubby is texting.”
Chase snatched his phone back. “As I said, not any of your business. You can leave now.”
“Okay, okay. Just, please…” He pressed his hands together like he was about to pray as he stepped back toward the door. “Pretty please with those accounts.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” Tristan said. “And I’ll text you about one night this week. You know, so we can chat about Marco.”
“Goodbye, Tristan.”
“Bye, boo.”
As soon as he closed the door behind him, Chase checked his phone, excitement rising within him.
He opened the message:How’s Feisty doing today?
The words got him grinning like a fucking moron, but he didn’t care. Those moments, brief as their exchanges may have been, meant so much to him. It was such a wonderful thing to have Mason back in his life, even if only as a friend. Anything was better than nothing.
My day’s a lot better, now that I’m talking to you, Chase replied.
Not a minute later, his phone was buzzing again—a call that time.
He answered.
Before he could even get a greeting out, Mason asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, no. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything was wrong. It’s just sort of all work and no play here. Wish I could be doing something else. Going out.”
“Going out? Oh, you just need some dick is all you need.”
Chase laughed. “Well, that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. Kind of missing the dick I was getting pretty regularly.”
