I smile up at him. “How so?”
Maddox adjusts himself a little, the water sloshing around us. “I started wearing the mask so people wouldn’t know who I was and, more importantly, so that my father wouldn’t get wind of any kind of success the band had when he was released from jail. I knew he would have tried to be Father of the Fucking Year, asked for money, or thought he could shadow on what we had made. I didn’t want to think of the kind of stunts he might have pulled with the excuse, ‘My son is the bassist for Young Decay,’ because I know the bastard would have used my name. And now that he’s gone…” Maddox sighs heavily and toys with my fingers for a beat.
“I love that fucking mask,” he goes on. “I love that it gives me the escape onstage. I love that the fans go insane over it, and it leaves that mystery. And I don’t want that to change. But…”
His words drift, and I squeeze his hands.
“Fuck, I don’t know,” he admits defeatedly. He looks at me and lets his head slump back against the lip of the tub. “Tell me what I should do.”
He’s cute like this.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” I say. “It’s your decision.”
“Yeah, I know, but your opinion might help,” he says.
My smile widens, though not because the situation is in any way amusing.
Only because he’s adorable in this new, vulnerable state.
“What if you do nothing,” I say as I sit up.
Maddox’s stare narrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… What if you do nothing?” I repeat with a shrug. “You shouldn’t have to reveal yourself because you feel the pressure. How you look at it can change, though. You don’t have to keep yourself in his prison if you’re ready to be free of it. Keep the mask. But wear it for the reason you just told me, not because you’re afraid of what might happen if you take it off.”
He clenches his teeth, his gaze skirting over my naked body again until it lands on my hip, where the clear, waterproof bandage is still in place. He reaches out and slides his thumb over it.
“You think I’m afraid?” he asks as his eyes rise to mine.
A faint smile flickers on my lips. “Maddox Keynes… You’re as afraid of your shadow as I am of mine.” I lean down and kiss him softly. “It’s cute, though.”
His mouth lifts into a smile that causes my entire body to wither. He wraps his hand beneath my jaw, fingers threading into the roots of my hair. And when he kisses me, goosebumps erupt over my skin, which has nothing to do with how cold the water is getting.
“As long as you think it’s cute,” he says when we part.
I chuckle against his lips. “We’re all afraid of something. It’s up to us whether we let it get in the way of something we truly want.”
“What do you think I want?” he asks.
I toy with his beard as I consider the question. “I think you want someone to tell you everything will be okay. That the world won’t stop turning if you take his weight off your shoulders.”
A muscle flinches in his jaw. “And you? What do you want?”
I think my heart has somehow melted into him.
“I just want you,” I admit. “Maddox Keynes. Mads Tourning. I don’t care which mask you wear. So long as the name I get to call you at the end of the day is ‘Mine.’”
He swallows, his eyes narrowing negligibly, and he squeezes me tighter. A shadow of that same fear flickers in his gaze when it searches over me. I wait for him to come back with an amusing comment. Yet, he sighs so heavily that his chest raises me, and we fall together.
“Done,” he swears.
My hair is still damp when he leaves me passed out in the cool sheets. I don’t wake for a few hours, though when I do, my stomach is grumbling.
The water and banana he had me eat after the shower wasn’t enough.
I put on clothes, sneak out of my room and into the house, then head down the hallway past the upstairs bedrooms toward the staircase. My gaze catches on a light coming from the bathroom, and I go to inspect it just in case it’s one of my brothers.
It’s Reed.
