When I turned to head to the street, Mason put his hand on my shoulder, then pulled it away. “No. You go. I meant I need some time alone. To think.”
Every alarm went off in my head. He’d never pushed me away, but always pulled me closer. “I’m not leaving you alone. That’s not what friends do.”
His heartbroken smile pulled every lever inside me. I was fucking this up. “I’m fine, Thomas. I’m a grown-up and I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”
I huffed and put my hands on my hips. “That’s not the point,” I grumbled. “I’m here to do this with you, not leave you alone. Whatever you need, I’m here for it.”
Mason looked at me as if I were the one missing the point. Maybe I was. Perhaps I really had screwed this up? “I appreciate you being here. You’re my best friend, and that’s what you’rebeing by giving me time alone. I’ll be fine. I promise. You’ve got your key.”
As I stood staring at him, Mason reached out and squeezed my shoulder. The heartbroken half-smile was back, and I couldn’t decipher if it was about his father or about me turning away. “I’ll see you later.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd on the street.
Running my hands through my hair, I wasn’t sure what to do. Technically, he didn’t need a bodyguard. He didn’t need me to protect him from anything but himself. Yet here I was, second-guessing what had always been first nature to me. But Mason was more than a friend. He’d become everything to me.
Striding out of the park, I looked around to see if I could find him. As tall as he was, he shouldn’t have been that difficult to find. Stepping onto a nearby bench, I tried to locate him in the crowd. Panic bloomed in my gut the longer he was out of my sight.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed his number, but got no answer. I dialed it again, but it went to voicemail. “Goddamn it,” I muttered, stuffing it back in my pocket.
Moving to the corner of the street, I hailed a cab and gave the driver the location. “The Covington on 23rd, please. Can you take 5th?”
He grunted and took off like a bat out of hell toward lower Manhattan. I kept my eyes peeled for Mason, but he was nowhere to be found. He was somewhere out in the city, hurting, and it worried the shit out of me.
When the driver pulled up to the hotel, I paid him and got out. Pulling out my phone, I called Mason two more times, but both went straight to voicemail. As the doors opened, I stepped inside and headed to the apartment.
Opening the door, I walked into dark silence. The city sparkled, illuminating the room, but it felt cold and emptywithout Mason here. It struck me that this was my life without him.
Flipping on the lights, I turned on the TV and found a baseball game to fill the empty air. Pacing the room, I thought about calling Hudson. He’d know what to do, but it occurred to me I also knew what to do. And that was to give him time.
Giving up, I checked my watch and sat on the sofa, staring mindlessly at the television as I calculated how long it would take for Mason to walk back. When that time came and went, worry set in. Another call went unanswered, forcing me to count the minutes down until I went out looking for him.
One hundred thirty-seven minutes after arriving back at the hotel, the phone rang. Hurrying over, I picked it up.
“Hello?”
The sound of a crowded room filled the background. “Mr. Kingsley?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is Vincent, downstairs in the Metro Bar. I have Mr. Kennerly here, and he’s gonna need some help getting to the room. He didn’t want me to call you, but I can’t leave to bring him up. I can send security, though.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I shook my head. “No. I’ll come get him. I’ll be right down.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Grabbing my wallet and keycard, I headed out to the elevator. When I walked into the crowded bar, I found Mason sitting at the end, out of the way of traffic. Making eye contact with the bartender, I waved to let him know I was there.
He leaned down and spoke to Mason, who turned to find me walking across the room. The lovesick smirk on his face almost made my heart stop.
Pivotingwobbilyon the stool, he faced me. The big guy was three sheets to the wind. “Hey. What are you doing down here? I was just talking about you, and poof. You appeared.”
I smiled, but raised a brow. “Oh yeah? I’m magic like that. I came to find you.”
His glassy eyes lit up, and his smile widened. “You did? God, you’re so handsome. You’re the man of my dreams,” he slurred, leaning in to put his head on my chest.
Vincent raised his brows at me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t eaten. Want me to order some food to be sent upstairs?”
“No, thank you. I’ll order something if he’s up to eating.” I wrapped an arm around him as he rubbed his face all over me like a cat. Thankfully, Mason clung to me as I struggled for my wallet. “Give me a second to get a card to take care of the bill.”
“You smell good,” he purred, nuzzling his face into my shirt. “I love the way you smell all the time. Even after we run.”
