When he finally looked up, a new item had been added: David Sketchbook Due Date.
David couldn’t help but smile. “Homework?”
“No. Coercion.” Mason grinned wide. “I’m not here to change you, but I just wantonefinished project.”
A strange panic bubbled up in David’s belly, one he hadn’t felt in quite a while. “That’s an ask.”
“Not a big one, though, right?” Mason stood up and grabbed David by the shoulders. “I really mean it when I say that I think you’re brilliant. The stuff you’ve finished honestly floors me. Iwould pay good money for that birds of paradise quilt you had in your closet.”
David smiled, but his stomach was still upset, his heart rate spiking. “I…boy, I guess this is what you probably felt like when I wouldn’t stop pushing you to—”
“Probably.” Mason pressed a finger to his own lips. “Let’s not airsex lifetalk in front of everyone else. Especially since we’re not even official yet.”
“You want to be official?”
The pink in Mason’s ears brightened to nearly red and crept down the sides of his face and into his cheeks. He shook his head. “Yes, but I’m not letting you change the subject.”
“You can’t just sayyesto that and then try to move on.” Somehow, though, it didn’t seem nearly as important as Mason asking him to finish off that sketchbook project. Them being an item hadn’t feltfullyconfirmed, obviously, but after that night last week, it almost felt inevitable. They’d connected together. Their shapes were right, and they fit into each other properly. Once David had finally broken through all those insecurities that were holding Mason back—or at least the ones he’d known about—it almost seemed preordained. They were too comfortable and too happy around each other to drift apart again.
The idea of having to knuckle down and finish something when he was no longer passionate? That was a hell of a pill to swallow. “If this is how you felt, then I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Mason cocked his head to the side. “I’m glad you got your message through my thick skull. But that’s not going to change the terms of the deal.” He sat back down. “You want to paint me naked, you fill that sketchbook for me. Then I’m all yours.” He hit save on the calendar, that went back to the document he’d been working on before. “Thanks for the coffee, by the way.”
David nodded. Then he pulled out his phone. If he was going to get through Mason’s request, he was going to have to go back to the hotel first. He’d tossed that partially completed sketchbook onto the hotel room’s cuck chair, and then thrown a bunch of his crap on top of it. So he was going to need to dig it out if he was going to make this work.
Hereallywanted to add Mason to that collection of paintings.And maybe ask him if he’s weirded out about me hanging paintings of other guys I’ve slept with in my bedroom. If we’re going to be a proper couple.Which raised the thought of him filling multiple canvases with nothing but Mason.
Andthatmade him book his ride share faster.
Chapter twenty-eight
Mason
Itwasthefirsttime he and David had decided to drink together. Mason was hardly a lush—not anymore anyway—but he enjoyed a little buzz. Sometimes more than a little buzz. And the fact he felt comfortable enough to do that with David simply reinforced the conclusion he’d already begun to land on: they worked. If nothing else, this was a relationship that had enough legs that he could try it. And Mason also thanked whatever fate or probability had given him someone who lived close enough to make a relationship easier. The other guys, save for Ozzy and Ev, had found happy relationships, but they were longer distance. Maybe somebody would move. Maybe they would just work things out without any moving. Honestly, if they managed to get the show renewed, all of them could probably live wherever they wanted and just come together when it was time to film a new season.
That scratched at Mason’s middle. They’d been distant for so long, and had finally come back together and wereactuallygetting along. Mason had been looking forward to hanging out again, at least some of the time. Chilling in Ozzy’s yard. Visiting with Bunny and her family. Beers with Robinson and Jake. They even had a standing invitation that, at some point, Aras would be having them over. He’d said as much a few weeks ago, and Mason had noted it down, fully intent on holding him to that. If they all scattered to the wind, would even the job be able to keep them bound together?
Mason shoved that down and focused on the moment. He couldn’t deal with all of it at once. So he swigged back a mouthful of his screwdriver, feeling the icy burn in his throat from the vodka, and turned his attention back to David.
He was actually nose-deep in his sketchbook again, only glancing up again after making a big slash across the page. Then he smiled. “Sorry. Much as I hate to admit it, it is nice to keep working on this.” He lifted his own screwdriver. “Cheers.”
“Well, much as I hate to distract the artist at his work, pay attention to me, now.” Mason patted the bed and David walked over to sit next to him. Right next to him. Thigh to thigh, hip to hip, side to side, no space at all.
Then his fingers feathered over Mason’s chest and abdomen. The first half-second, Mason’s heart raced and his throat tightened.He doesn’t care. He’s not leaving.It was getting easier and easier to knock those voices back, but his gut instinct was still to worry and panic any time David drew even the slightest attention to Mason’s body. He didn’t know how long that would last, or if it would ever stop, but he would take the win for what it was: a win. Hecouldtalk himself back from the edge, which was a new thing for him.
Mason let his hand rest on David’s thigh, stopping just short of creeping up to his junk.
Knock knock knock.
“Open up!” Aras’s voice came through the door. “I’ve got arms full of pizza and a plumber who’s pretending he’s not about to piss himself!”
“Aras, shut it.” Robinson’s voice was quieter, but still audible. The relationship with Chuck had done him some noticeable good: Robinson talked a lot more. Still not a lot, but he was more willing to voice his opinions. And voice them he did, raising his voice just enough. “He’s not wrong, though.”
Mason looked at David. “I was going to avoid this until we were ready. We can come up with a cover story—”
“Let the man in to pee.” David smiled and spread his arms wide. “I’m not embarrassed, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
A slight tension released from Mason’s chest and he jumped up and went to the door. Aras was there with three pizzas, and Robinson thrust a bag of clinking bottles into Mason’s arms, then darted into the bathroom. He went so fast, he didn’t quite get the door shut and Mason had to pull it closed after him.
