Chapter thirty-four
David
Maybeitwasatouch of petulance, but when Mason finally walked back into the hotel room at the end of the day, David tossed himself dramatically back on the bed and sighed as loudly as he could. “Why exactly can I not see the finishing touches on my own condo?”
“Because you signed a contract to get all this amazing work done for free, love. In exchange, we get to make a big reveal at the end for our silly little TV show.”
“Stupid TV show.” But David grinned as he sat up and pecked Mason on the lips. “Can you at least let me know if everything went okay?”
“Structure fire. Whole thing’s gone. But don’t Eliza that I told you.” Mason laid his laptop out on the desk and tucked his messenger bag away, then crossed back on his way to the bathroom. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
David rolled his eyes as Mason headed into the bathroom…then pulled together his ownactualsurprise. Once Mason walked out, wiping his hands off on his thighs…well, first David had to control himself, since he was suddenly focused on Mason’s thighs. But after that initial spark of lust, he held out a black, hard-bound book with a lime-green ribbon attached to the spine. “I finished it.”
Mason’s face split into a wide smile right away. “The whole sketchbook? Because I was not actually serious about you having to finish.” He took it anyway, but he also sat down right next to David on the bed and looped an arm around the small of his back, pulling them tighter together. “I don’t know if you figured this out or not, but I’m over the doubts. I don’t need proof.”
“No, but you deserve it. And your friends deserve it.” It heated his cheeks to talk about—which was stupid, considering the positions they’d found themselves in before this—but he pushed ahead. “I know you were pissed at them—”
“That was five days ago.”
“Still, you were pissed. Totally don’t want to invalidate your feelings…but itwasa wake-up call for me. I owed it to you and to them…and to myself to show that I can finish something. So here.” He patted the cover of the sketchbook. “Obviously you can look at it at your leisure, but I just—”
“Obviously I’m looking at it now.” Mason pecked him on the cheek. “Don’t get bashful on me. You and I both know this is going to be amazing work.”
It was going to be sloppy and sometimes passionless and with way more of a focus on Mason than there should have been, since he started filling it in before they were even considering trying to be together, but David didn’t let any of that out. He simply sat and watched as Mason opened the book and flipped through. A couple rough sketches on the first page, including a perspective shot of people moving things down the hallwayto his condo. A portrait of Mason. One of Bunny. A somewhat messy couple’s portrait of Ozzy and Evander, caught in an intimate embrace. Three more versions of Mason, including one that was just him from the back, clearly focused in on his butt.
Jake, Elliot Bay, Aras, Mason, Robinson, Mason, Eliza, Mason, Mason, Mason…there was the sketch. The one that David had been chasing the entire time until, finally, they’d been up on the rooftop and the light had been just perfect and he hadfinallyput Mason to paper, done him justice.
David looked at the sketches, but he also watched Mason taking them in, and he didn’t miss the sweet smile over his lips when he looked at that one. He didn’t make any comments, but David noted when his eyes lingered, how he carefully flipped some pages, the way the light moved through his eyes.
How did I get this fucking lucky?
The end of the sketchbook was thrown together, that was for sure. Once he’d gotten that drawing of Mason, he’d lost interest, but he pushed through regardless. A lot of basic cityscapes and some gestural drawings. Nothing worth noting. One was a still life of the craft services table. One was Mason surrounded in a magenta haze, holding one of those mezcal and hibiscus drinks, although that had obviously been drawn from memory and was less than totally realistic.
It still got a chuckle from Mason, and he hovered his fingertips over it. David pressed them down. “It’s not made of glass.”
“I don’t want to smudge it.” His voice was surprisingly thick and soft, and it was only then that David noticed he had some tears brimming in his eyes. But he was still all smiles as he gently traced the pads of his fingers through the cloud of pink on the paper. “You really are incredible, David.”
A tear fell and David wiped at Mason’s eyes. “I usually have to suck dick to bring a man to tears.”
Mason snorted, then sniffled and shook his head. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Oh, I’m a punishment, babe. Insecure artist who can’t finish anything and iswaytoo clingy.” He brushed his fingers through Mason’s hair. “I’m lucky to have someone who puts up with me.”
Mason kept on flipping pages, and as David watched pictures go by, he found himself getting sucked in, engrossed in a way he hadn’t expected. Obviously, he remembered drawing most of these. Some of them were still rough and uninspired, but there was a pen sketch of Jake’s circular saw that had some shading he was even impressed with looking at it. Another flip of the page and David’s eyes lighted on another picture of Eliza. He’d drawn it mostly in pencil, but had added in severe black lines with a permanent marker to make her look much more sere and business-like, filling in her black suit jacket and slacks.
Mason flipped to the last page and David’s stomach tightened. “I went a little more abstract with that one.” Which was…one way to put it.
Mason ran his fingers over the sketched letters on the paper without hesitation. “You serious?”
David nodded, taking in the blocky, angled letters, drawn to hopefully look like upholstered fabric: CAN I PAINT YOU NAKED?
Mason rested the tip of his index finger on the dot of the question mark for a few seconds. Then he looked directly at David for the first time since he started going through the sketches. “Like the paintings you had above your bed?”
David nodded. “If you’re okay with it. I know it’s…I’ve painted a few guys I had real emotions with over the years, always in that style. My first time. The guy who broke my heart for the first time. The guy who only wanted to be with me so he could sell my paintings.”
Mason clicked his tongue. “Sounds like I’m not in the best company.”
“I need a guy up on that wall who I actually like. Who I…love.” David forced himself to breathe normally. “Even if you leave and never come back, I’d want you up there.”
