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“Shall we sit down?” he suggested.

Zeb nodded, so they moved to the sofa. Mason wanted to pull Zeb onto his lap. He loved him being there, but he wanted to look at him.

“I really love you, Mason,” he choked out.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing his hand.

“But . . . I’m a complete fuckup.”

Mason gave him a reassuring smile. “You’re perfect.”

“A perfect fuckup.”

“You are my perfect fuckup.”

Zeb smiled. It was subtle, but it was there. Mason didn’t let go of Zeb’s hand, and he didn’t pull it away.

“I want to tell you everything, and then if it’s too much, I’ll understand.”

Mason wanted to argue that there was nothing Zeb could say to make him walk away. These few days together had felt like a lifetime, in the best possible way. But Mason knew Zeb needed to share, and he’d listen, and hold him, and give him all the reassurance he needed to know he would spend the rest of his life with someone who’d cherish him.

“I told you about my family, and living on the streets, and you know about Brandon and Kaden, but I never really told you about John.”

John was the guy Zeb had been with the longest, but he was right. He was the one Mason knew little about. All he’d done was sit in the background seething with jealousy for months.

“I left him when he hit me the first time. Before then, I’d thought it was good. He only hit me once, which was a lot less than Brandon did. He didn’t even like to have sex unless you were screaming ‘no’ at him.”

Mason’s fists clenched, and he accidentally gripped Zeb’s hand hard.

“Relax, he’s in prison.”

That was true, but ten years had been nowhere near enough for everything he’d done. It had just been hard to prove it all, as nothing was reported when it originally happened.

“John liked to use sex as a reward. I didn’t really understand, but after Kaden’s coercive behavior, I looked into it, and John was the same, he just took a different approach.”

Zeb snorted.

“Why are you laughing?” Mason frowned.

“You look like you want to kill someone.”

“Sorry, but I don’t like hearing about people hurting you.”

“I know. It’s cute how protective you get.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah, cute.”

Mason smiled and stroked Zeb’s face. He closed his eyes and leaned into Mason’s touch. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say about John, but he had a feeling he’d soon be wanting to track the man down and cause him harm.

“If I ever tried to initiate sex, then John would ban it for a few days, or even a week, and said I needed to earn it. He made it sound exciting somehow. I don’t know why I fell for it, but I did . . . again and again. Then he would buy me gifts, cook my favorite food, but it always came with a compliment for something I’d done well. It could have been as simple as unloading the dishwasher, but if it was something he was happy with, he’d reward me. If I did something wrong, he never ‘punished’ me, but he would withdraw sex.”

Mason wasn’t sure what to say. He knew Zeb wasn’t finished yet, so he squeezed his hand again to remind him that he was still here and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now, I’m with you, and every time you do something nice, I can’t help but think there’s going to be a catch. When we’re together and you’re only focused on me, it feels . . . like it’s a reward for something, and I’m trying to work out what it is so I can do more of it. Anything I can do so you’ll be happy, and then you won’t leave me.”

Mason knew that giving him verbal reassurance wouldn’t ease his pain. He had to show him he had nothing to fear.