In His Sights Page 17

  “The perfect seat.” Mason grabbed hold of one end, Noah held on to the other, and they dragged the wood toward the edge of the water and sat down. They both sat there for a few more minutes, gazing at the greenery reflected off the water filled with flowering lily pads, and listening to the frogs’ songs as they echoed through the air.

  “Can we start the talk with you telling me what you think happened last night?” Mason asked.

  “What I think?” Noah’s head flinched back slightly, his tone uncertain.

  “I have my own theory that might be a little different,” Mason let him know.

  Noah’s eyes squinted, and his body tensed. “Why don’t you go first, then?”

  That wasn’t the way Mason wanted this to go. “Let’s start with you telling me what you were dealing with last night.”

  “Okay. Went walking, found the bar. Went in for a drink. Was having a nice time, then a couple of guys started some shit, and we got in a fight. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Marcus, the bartender, said you went over to those guys first.”

  “That’s bullshit.” Noah jumped up.

  Mason needed to shut Noah down. Quick. With his voice calm, Mason assured Noah, “I’m not accusing you of lying. I’m just giving you another view of what happened.”

  “Okay, fine.” Noah walked away, then turned his stare on Mason. “Let’s hear this other view then.”

  “It’s not like that, okay? There’s no need to get defensive. No one is blaming you for anything.”

  “Whatever.” Noah’s answer was indifferent, but his voice sounded much more under control.

  Mason continued. “It appeared to him as if you may have spoken to one of the guys first.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Mason asked, trying to get Noah to open up further.

  Noah moved back to where Mason sat. “I spoke to someone early, and he might have been one of the group. But he wasn’t with the group when I talked to him.”

  “That makes sense. But just so you know, he was one of the group. Do you think you may have said something to him that set the rest of the guys off?”

  Noah shook his head before Mason finished. “No way.”

  As if he were talking to a scared child, Mason said, “It’s okay. I just asked. There’s no need for the question to upset you.”

  “Listen, the fight started when a couple of guys thought they were the shit. Don’t know why they picked me to start with, but they did, and I wasn’t going to back down.”

  “Okay. I get that. But, Noah, I think there was more.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me this elusive theory you have?” Noah stood over Mason. “Then we can continue the hike.”

  “Sit down, and I will.”

  Noah plopped down on the log next to Mason. He glared at Mason, his body rigid.

  “I think you tried to punish yourself.” Mason’s gaze locked on Noah’s.

  “What the fuck?” Noah lurched forward, ready to stand up, but Mason rested his hand on Noah’s leg.

  Mason’s tone remained relaxed, nonthreatening. “I think you let the guys beat you because of what we did. What you thought we were going to do.”

  Noah let out a labored breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m pretty sure you do.”

  The leg under Mason’s hand shook, and Noah stared up at the trees.

  Mason couldn’t stop now. “Why didn’t you fight back?”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t you fight back against those guys?”

  “There were five of them,” Noah said, as if the number made a difference, but it didn’t.

  “And you could have taken most, if not all of them, down. But you didn’t. I watched you for a minute, and you didn’t throw one punch.”

  “I can’t tell you what you think you saw. But—” Noah shifted away from Mason’s touch.

  “Stop.” Mason got right into Noah’s face. “You didn’t even try to defend yourself. You let them pummel you, and you just stood there.”

  Noah jumped off the log again.

  “Even after you took that swing at me—you swung once, then took all I gave.”

  “I did the best I could.” Noah shook his head as if in disbelief. “What are you trying to say, Mason?”

  Mason got up and moved in front of Noah. “I think you took the beating as a way of punishing yourself for being gay.”

  “Is that what this is about? You have to be kidding me. I’m not fucking gay, so punishing myself for it wouldn’t be an issue.”

  Mason remained frozen, staring at Noah. What the fuck? He’s not gay? That was the last thing Mason expected Noah to say.

  * * * *

  Noah moved around Mason, then turned back avoiding Mason’s expression. “This discussion is over. If you want to hike, let’s hike.”

  Mason got up and kept his trap shut. Noah fought himself not to turn around and bolt. What the fuck was he sticking around for? This was bullshit. Mason was bullshit.

  For the next hour, Noah couldn’t think straight. His saving grace was he could hike from muscle memory—it took nothing from his brain, only from his body. The harder they hiked, the better Noah felt. He couldn’t believe the shit Mason spewed. Did Mason really believe half of what he was saying? Or did he just say it for effect? Well, Noah wasn’t going to find out. He planned to leave tonight. It was the only thought that took purchase in his head. It was the thought that would get him through the rest of the day.

  From the way the sun hung in the sky, they’d hiked for about three hours before Mason spoke. “Once we are a little farther, we’re going to turn around on a different trail and head back.”

  “Okay,” was all Noah could get out of his dry mouth.

  The new trail was a little smaller in width. Still broad enough for a group of people. Noah was so lost in his thoughts he missed all the splendor of his surroundings, and it pissed him off. Hiking always calmed him down. Until today. Dammit.

  They made better time on the way back than they had on the hike out. In a little over two hours, they made it back to the truck. No doubt it was all the adrenaline pumping through Noah’s body, thanks to his and Mason’s little talk. They both put their packs in the back of the truck and climbed in. Mason started her up, and they headed out of the park, back to the highway.

  Noah stared out the window, but his head was still too messed up for anything he was seeing to register. The world passed by in a blur.

  “What do you feel like for dinner?” Mason asked.

  “Don’t count on me for dinner. I’m going to head out.”

  Mason peered at Noah. “Please don’t do that. I’m sorry. Really sorry what I said upset you so much.”

  “It’s all good. Just think it’s time I get back to my life. I’ve got a lot to take care of at home.”

  Noah was surprised when Mason pulled the truck over to the side of the road. He put the vehicle in park, and not shutting it off, he turned to face Noah. “I’m sorry, and I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I know. It’s just that—” Noah wouldn’t look at Mason.

  “I know what it is. I fucked up. I just wanted to talk to you. Didn’t want to upset you.”

  “I just think it’s best if—”

  “You leave?” Mason cut Noah off. “I don’t think so. Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you. And I’m sorry. Please stay. I want you to stay.”

  “You already said that.”

  “Yeah. But I didn’t say why. I want you to stay because I’ll miss you when you leave.”

  Noah’s head drew back stiffly. He peered at Mason, not sure what he expected to see. How should Mason’s words affect him? “I have to leave eventually.”

  “I want to spend more time with you before you have to.”

  Noah turned back toward the window. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Mason moved closer, and Noah’s breath hitched.

  “I want to s
pend more time with you because I like you. Really like you.”

  Noah shook his head. “I like you, too, but—”

  “Dammit. You can’t make this easy, can you? I like you as more than a friend.”

  Noah lost what he planned to say. What the hell? Was Mason saying what Noah thought Mason was saying? His feelings were romantic?

  Mason sat back in his seat, his head flung against the head rest. “I like spending time with you. Both as a friend and lover.”

  Noah’s skin heated. What was he supposed to say to that? That he felt the same way? Noah couldn’t tell Mason, because it meant more than just saying, Noah liked Mason. It said Noah liked men.

  “Never mind. Forget what I said. I’m sorry.” Mason’s voice cracked.

  Noah glanced at Mason. His face turned red. Nothing more would be said. Mason closed his eyes, shook his head, and reached his hands out to the steering wheel. When he opened his eyes, it appeared all his focus went back on driving the truck.

  Noah needed to say something. He couldn’t let Mason believe all he’d accomplished by admitting he had feelings for Noah was to make a fool out of himself. “Listen. I—”

  “Don’t. Just don’t. Please.” Mason pulled the truck back onto the road.

  An awkward silence filled the air, and for the life of him, Noah couldn’t break it. Instead of speaking up, Noah sat there, still stunned by the information. His mind raced a mile a minute, and his mouth was too confused by those thoughts.

  By the time they pulled into Mason’s driveway, Noah’s erratic thought process and irrational fears had him feeling physically ill—the quiver in his stomach, his twitchy muscles, and his heart palpitations all made for the longest ride of his life.

  When Noah didn’t go to open his door right away, Mason asked, “You’re coming in, right?”

  Noah hated hearing the hurt and pain in Mason’s voice. “Yeah.”

  Mason nodded, closed the door, and walked toward the house. His body was slack, his face lacked a smile, and Noah was to blame.

  Dammit. Noah stayed in the car for a while after Mason went into the house. When Noah went in there, he’d have to say something. He couldn’t leave without saying anything more to Mason. Especially not now, after Mason had been man enough to admit his feelings to Noah. What should he do?

  The easiest thing would be to run away. Get out of there and never look back. But the pain in Mason’s gaze when he’d gotten out of the truck made Noah think otherwise. What would be the big deal if he decided to stay? For a couple more days? He had nothing to run home to. In fact, the thought of going home left an emptiness in Noah’s chest. What was he even thinking? Mason wanted him here, and Noah wanted to be here, so Noah just needed to man up and stay. He grabbed on the door handle, but reality prevented him from going any further. The reality of what he’d be admitting if he stayed. The fact he knew what would happen between him and Mason and was not only willing, but also wanting, to stay and be a part of it.

  He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be. He just liked sex, no matter how he got it. But if he stayed with Mason because he liked him, had feelings for him, he couldn’t use that excuse any more.

  Noah spent several more minutes sitting by himself. Then, with his mind made up, he jumped out of the truck and went up to the house.

  Not sure if he should just walk in, he knocked on the door. Mason called out for him to come in, and he did. He couldn’t hear where Mason was, so he checked the kitchen first. Not there, he went into the living room, which also sat empty. He glanced over at the bathroom and noticed the door ajar. He heard a movement from upstairs. When he got to Mason’s room, the door was closed. Talking himself into moving, he went over to Mason’s door and knocked. At first, Mason didn’t answer, and Noah knocked again.

  “Goodbye,” Mason barely whispered.

  “Can you come out here?” Noah hated the way his voice hitched.

  “I’d rather not. You can just leave.”

  “Please, Mas. I want to talk to you.” At this point, Noah didn’t mind begging. He’d hurt Mason, and he’d make it up anyway he could.

  The door opened. Getting his first look, Noah was surprised to see how worn out Mason appeared. His complexion was pale and his lips thinned. His reddened eyes stayed cast down, avoiding Noah’s. His body stiff, he held onto the doorknob with a white knuckled grip. Noah was pissed at himself for causing Mason to have this kind of reaction.

  “Can you come out to the living room, please?” Noah kept his voice calm, hoping it would help Mason relax.

  Noah’s heart leapt when Mason released the door, straightened up, and peered at him. Pain remained in Mason’s gaze, but along with it, Noah saw something else. Maybe hope. And that hope offered some to Noah.

  They went to the living room, and Noah realized Mason was waiting for Noah to sit down before he did. Noah sat in the middle of the couch, with the thought that whichever side Mason chose, he’d still be close to Noah. But the plan backfired when Mason went over to the chairs, picked one up, and moved it to sit in front of Noah. Then Mason sat in the seat. He kept his distance.

  Noah was a dick. He hoped Mason would forgive him for it.

  “I’m sorry for my reaction in the truck.”

  “It’s okay.” Mason stared at the floor.

  Noah ached to take Mason’s chin in his hand and force Mason to look Noah in the eyes. Instead, he kept his hands tightly gripped together on his lap, fighting doing just that. “It’s not okay. I was an ass.”

  “Listen, Noah. I think it’s best if you just leave.” Mason stood up, and as he tried to turn, Noah rose and grabbed onto Mason’s arm. He wouldn’t let Mason run away.

  “Please don’t.” The sadness in Mason’s expression when he turned back around and the pain in his voice caused a physical ache inside of Noah.

  Noah couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “I like you, too, Mas. And that’s what scares me. I did want to leave. To run away. But not because I didn’t like you, because I do. Too much.”

  Mason stayed still, his gaze not telling how he felt about Noah’s declaration. Then before Noah realized what was going to happen, Mason pulled Noah into his arms, their mouths crashing together. Mason did what he wanted, taking Noah’s mouth hostage. Noah, having no control, held on tight for the ride.

  When Mason finally released Noah’s mouth, Mason’s lips were red and well used. The sight had Noah wanting more. But this was Mason’s game if he wanted to play. Otherwise, Noah knew they needed to finish their talk. Noah needed to finish.

  Chapter 21

  Mason took Noah’s hand in his, moved them both over to the couch, and they sat. Mason still couldn’t believe what Noah had said. That he’d admitted caring about Mason. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was good enough. After their conversation earlier on the hike, Mason hadn’t thought Noah would ever open up enough to say he cared. Hell, this afternoon, Noah had claimed he wasn’t gay. It didn’t solve anything about the rest of their conversation—Mason talking to Noah about the bar fight—but this was a big step, and it told Mason Noah was trying.

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  Noah nodded, and his face reddened.

  “I understand it was hard for you.”

  Noah looked down to where his and Mason’s hands lay clutched.

  Was Noah shutting down already? “Will you stay for a couple more days?” Mason asked.

  Noah’s stare met Mason’s. “Yeah. I can do that.”

  “Can we talk? Or rather, finish our talk from earlier?” Mason was pushing and knew he might scare Noah away, but Mason couldn’t stop himself.

  When Noah opened his mouth to say something, Mason quickly added, “Without you getting upset and leaving?”

  “We can try,” Noah said. He wore a half smile, but the erratic pulse visible at his neck and ashen complexion told his true feelings.

  “I want to discuss the fight.”

  “What about it?” Noah broke eye contact.

  �
�I want to hear how it started.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. Those guys instigated the whole thing.”

  “This wasn’t your first fight.”

  Noah shook his head. “No. But what should I do when people start shit?” Noah’s body grew stiff and his voice rose. “Am I supposed to ignore it?”

  Mason put his hands up with hopes to placate Noah. “Please. We’re just talking. Don’t get upset.”

  “I don’t understand why we need to talk about this.” Noah wiped his free hand on his pants. “It’s over and done.”

  “I don’t think it is. Especially if you’re planning to stay here with me.”

  “What does that mean?” Noah went to push off the couch.

  Mason tightened his grip on Noah’s hand, not letting him stand.

  “You think I’ll get in a fight with you?” Noah said in a gruff voice.

  “No. More like you’ll end up in a fight because of me.”

  “Huh?” Noah appeared confused, and Mason realized maybe he was. Maybe he hadn’t understood why he’d fought—what made him search out people to beat him?

  “I think you fight to punish yourself.”

  “What?” Noah shook his head.

  “I think you get into fights so someone will beat you. Punish you.”

  “For what?”

  Mason was very careful; he didn’t want to make the same mistake he made earlier. “I think it’s because you like men. I think you believe you need to be punished because of that.”

  Noah shook his head again. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yeah, it does. I don’t think you even realize you’re doing it.”

  “What?” Faint tremors tainted Noah’s voice.

  “Think about it. In the middle of these fights, you shut down. You let these guys beat you. There’s no doubt you’re able to take them out, but you don’t. You do enough to get them worked up, then you take what they have to give.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” This time when Noah went to stand up, Mason let him. Nervous energy hummed through Noah, and his need to move around was obvious.

  “It’s not ridiculous. I watched you the other night. I observed what happened before the other guys took off. They beat you, and you stood there accepting it.”