“It seems like it was a little stupid when I look back. But we never had anything too dangerous happen. Did we?”
Chase turned to him and stopped, his chin shaking, and Mason knew he was recalling one of the instances when they were lucky things hadn’t gotten worse than they had.
They’d endured the name-calling and having their lockers vandalized with spray paint—or even breaking in and stealing their belongings. But they could look past all that. The incident that stood out among all others was an afternoon when Chase had been on his own after school.
“I wouldn't have made it if you hadn't been there to protect me that day,” Chase said.
He’d stayed after school for a track meet. Whenever he had to stay late, Mason would study in the library, and they’d meet afterwards and ride home together. Chase had headed into the restroom on the way to the library, and one of their classmates who had called them faggots a few times—Brandon Lane—and his buddies had followed him inside.
“If you hadn't been there, Brandon and his douchebag friends… who knew what they would have done?”
“You were putting up a hell of a fight on your own,” Mason pointed out.
“They would have kicked my ass, and you know it. It was dumb luck that you came in when you did.”
Mason had figured it was about time for Chase to finish up, so he’d planned on meeting him halfway. That’s when he heard the ruckus going on in the restroom. And he’d heard his Chase. In danger.
He’d charged in, fists ready, and started taking the guys on.
“When Brandon pulled out that knife,” Chase recalled, “I was so fucking scared.”
“I got it from him, didn’t I?” Mason cocked his brow and smirked.
“It’s not funny, Mason. That really scared me.”
“It scared me too. But we got through it. And they got suspended, and no one fucked with us for the rest of high school, did they?”
“Not like that, at least.”
Mason moved close to Chase. He wrapped an arm around him and pulled their bodies together. “Everything's fine. No one got hurt. I’m safe. You’re safe.”
“We could have gotten hurt, though. I think we take for granted how much we could have gotten hurt back then. In a town like this, we were playing with fire. I was just lucky that I was with the big Goliath of a man who could manage to disarm an asshole… and let anyone and everyone know that if they fucked with me, they’d have to fuck with you too.”
“Hey, I wasn’t the only one fighting. What about that time when you kicked Randall Dean's ass?”
“Oh, Randall,” Chase said. “I almost forgot. It would have been fine if he would have stuck to callingmea fairy, but the moment he called you one, I was not okay. I got suspended for that. Well, it gave me more time to work on the dairy anyway, so it kind of worked out for everyone, didn't it?”
“Only you would see that as a blessing, Chase. Only you.”
Chase glanced around, his uneasy expression returning. “This was always a problem for us.”
“What?”
“When we’re together, we just forget about the rest of the world and about the consequences of our actions.”
“It was worth it, though. Wasn't it?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Then let’s just keep forgetting about it as much as we can,” Mason suggested before kissing him.
He wasn't ashamed of what they were doing or if anybody saw them. Even if it somehow got back to Emery or Pa, he wasn’t going to feel bad about it. Not right then.
The years had taught him that he had to savor moments like those, appreciate them for as long as he could. It was why they married in the first place.
He was appreciative as fuck that the opportunity had come back into his life—that he had a chance to love again.
As Chase reopened his eyes, Mason said, “I don’t want this week to end and then we give up on us, Chase. I know how your mind works… and overworks. I can just see you heading back to LA, and when things get hard, walking away like you did back then. Please don’t. Please give this a chance. We deserve another go.”
