Pretend - Page 27/75

“Can you blame him? It wasn’t really his place.”

Mason crossed his arms over the back of the chair. “You trying to talk me into getting back together with my ex or what?”

“No, he’s an asshole. You know that’s the truth, though.”

And Mason did. It wasn’t Isaac’s responsibility to tell him. That belonged to his parents. “Maybe it was the excuse I needed to move on. Just like telling my family I won’t be moving back to Denver to take care of the restaurants—I used the truth about my adoption as a way to tell them I wasn’t going back. Isaac and I…hell the sex was always good, but—”

Gavin hit a wrong note. Yep, he was jealous. Mason grinned.

“But… This makes me sound like a bastard, but Isaac was always the life I tried to force myself to have. We both have business degrees and we both worked for my family. He was another thing that just happened. It was easy so we kept it going. That’s all it ever was.”

“Does he know that?” Gavin asked.

“He’s in denial.” Mason winked at him. “Let’s keep this little game of tit for tat going. Why don’t you tell me why you were late on Wednesday? Why have you been in a shitty mood since then?”

***

“Tit for tat, huh?” Gavin stalled. Talking about his family made him feel weak. It pissed him off and made guilt eat him alive at the same time. He didn’t want to go through any of those emotions with Mason, especially not all three of them.

“Yeah. For some reason you turn me into a chatty motherfucker.”

He wanted to chat? Gavin could chat. “I gave Jessie a piano lesson today. It made me realize how much I miss playing. I used to play at a few dueling piano bars.”

Mason didn’t reply. He didn’t look away from Gavin, either. Not gonna work, asshole, his eyes said every time Gavin caught them.

“You have a way of getting what you want, don’t you?”

“Hopefully, I do with you. That’s all I’m worried about right now.”

Gavin continued to play. Looking down he watched his fingers, thankful he had this thing that he loved so damn much. Music had saved him many times in his life. “My father…he asked about family. If I had a wife and had given him grandchildren, because he and Mom always wanted them. I opened my mouth to remind him but she cut me off. Made up a story about women who would be lucky to have me. We talked about the teaching job she pretended I still have and they said how proud they are of me and I…let it go. I just fucking let it go.”

Gavin fought to tune out his own words, to concentrate on the music because it was the one love he always had. “I just fucking decided I was done quietly living my life. Done feeling guilty about who I am. That’s what I came here for—a fresh start; and all I did was keep my mouth shut. Afterward she told me this was a silver lining in Dad’s illness. His mind is going so that makes it easier to pretend. So he won’t have to die knowing that he’ll never see me again.”

Because while his father would be in Heaven—Gavin would be in Hell.

Gavin shook his head. “Stop making me do this. I managed to escape my talk with Braden today, yet I come here and you manage to pry it all out of me.” He didn’t want to work through the fact that he’d been willing to share something with Mason that he hadn’t with his oldest friend.

When Mason didn’t reply, Gavin looked over at him—watched him stretch out his long legs and stand. Watched him move the chair to the side and walk over to him. Watched as Mason stopped in front of Gavin. As he touched one hand, then the other, stopping Gavin from playing.

“Now, he wants me to stop.” Gavin tried to lighten the moment but Mason ignored it.

He took the guitar from Gavin’s hand and set it on the ground, and then said, “I like you, Teach.”

He liked Mason as well. “You don’t know me.”

“So? I know you’re sexy. I know you’re a teacher and your parents have a fucked up idea of what the world is about. I know you love music and that you like to help people, which is an admirable quality. You’re fun to be around, and you tell me things when I try to force them out of you. It’s like you trust me, and that means something to me. I also know you’re thirty years old and you’re trying to figure out what the hell you really want out of your life, just like I am.” Mason shrugged. “You’re a good fuck, too. I know that.”

Gavin laughed. He liked that Mason tried to level the heavy with a joke. His mind went back to what Braden said earlier—when Gavin told him he could figure out what he wanted for his life, Braden told him to do that. He’d been right. “Yeah, I guess I am.” And then, “I like you, too, boss.” He did. With Mason he felt a little less lost—or maybe just that he wasn’t lost alone.