I lifted my hundred-pound head from his chest only to find him smirking at me. When the cold air found the saliva all over the side of my face, I knew what I’d done. I’d wrapped myself around him, then drooled all over his chest.
“Have you always had such vivid dreams? I was worried you were going to throw up with the noises you were making.”
Rolling onto my back, Thomas’s arm was sandwiched between me and the cloud pillows. I covered my face with my hands, waiting for him to pull his arm away. “God, I’m embarrassed,” I muttered through my hands.
The bed dipped as Thomas rolled onto his side, leaving his arm under my neck. “Why? Everyone is entitled to have a bad night. It was your time to let some of the pain go.”
I groaned, but was grateful he didn’t know what I’d been dreaming about. “I’m not so sure about that. Getting drunk is not how I handle things. And… if I did something…” I kept my eyes closed as I rubbed my temples, trying to coax the pain away. But the warm hand around my wrist made me pause when Thomas gently pulled my hand away and took over. The pressure was perfect as he alternated between my temples and my scalp. When he didn’t reply, I opened one eye. “I’m really sorry about that. I hope you can forgive me.”
One side of his mouth turned up. “It’s fine, Mason. But Iamcurious about something you said.”
I was going to be sick. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I waited for him to remind me of whatever caught his attention. “What? What did I say?” I groaned.
Thomas leaned in closer, then peeled away my fingers. When he had my attention, he smiled. “Before you went to sleep, you said you wanted me to be your person. Is that really how you feel?”
I could lie, or try to. But I didn’t have it in me. And what point would it serve? “Yes. I want that closeness my friends experience. If they weren’t in love, they’d still be each other’s best friend. I want a ride or die. Someone who will answer my call no matter what they’re doing. Someone to be on my side, even if I’m wrong. Someone who calls me for no reason but to talk. Someone to peel me off a barstool when my chest aches so badly that it hurts to breathe. Someone to keep me from being soflipping lonely.” I took a deep breath when my voice cracked. “I don’t know why some people click, but for some reason I think that’s you.” I knew I’d probably said too much, but whatever. It was out there. And if Thomas didn’t want that, it was okay. “You can say no.”
His fingertips massaged my temples as he smiled down at me. “I want to be that person for you, Mason. I’ll be the one who calls you just because and comes to rescue you from bad dates. Plus, I can bail you out of jail or cover up your crime. Just don’t ask me to commit one.”
I laughed, but it made my head hurt.
He grinned, but went back to taking care of me. “I need those things too. I didn’t realize how incredibly lonely I was until you came into my life and showed me what I’d been missing.”
I smiled softly but kept my eyes closed, sinking into the pillow. “Me too.”
Thomas didn’t respond for a moment, then pulled his hand away. “What you need is a shower and the greasiest breakfast around to soak up all that alcohol before we head to the airport.” He shifted off the bed, then walked toward the door. Stopping, he looked back at me. “By chance, did you bring your passport?”
I had to think. “Yeah. It’s in my bag. Why?”
He smiled. “Good. Rather than head home, I think we should go to London. We have a brother to find.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Chapter 13
Thomas
By the time Mason showered and got dressed, he still wasn’t particularly hungry, but he needed to eat. “Ready for some food?”
He groaned. “Not really, but I know I need to eat.”
“Hopefully, one bite of a breakfast sandwich will reset your appetite. Maybe pancakes and bacon will be better.” My stomach growled at the thought. We missed dinner last night, and thinking about food was enough to set off the hunger pains.
Mason’s brow furrowed. “Did you eat last night?”
“No. I wasn’t really hungry.” I was too concerned about him to order anything. But telling him that would only make him feel worse.
He hung his head. “I’m sorry about last night. I don’t handle things well sometimes, and I should have known better than to think alcohol would solve the problem.”
“Mase,” I said, approaching him. “You’re entitled to go off the rails once in a while. I’m just glad I was here to take care of you. And I’ll continue to be here if you’ll let me.”
His eyes met mine. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
There were so many things I wanted to say, but telling him how I felt while he was an emotional wreck didn’t feel like the right thing to do. “Let’s hope you never have to find out.” I patted my belly. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”
After a short walk to the Flatiron Diner, we were seated in a window booth that allowed for people watching. Mason sipped his coffee and water, but didn’t say much. I had no intention of addressing the moans and mumbled words from his dream because all it would do was embarrass him. But I tucked them away in my memory as confirmation that we were on the same page when the time was right. Turning our conversation to our plans for London was a safer option.
“I booked us one-way tickets on the 6:30 p.m. flight to Heathrow. With the time change, we’ll arrive early tomorrow morning. I’ve got a little more research to do before I book accommodations.”
