Page 21 of A Little More Hope

“Sure. I’ll speak to you in a couple of days,” Gabe replied. “Oh, and Mason…”

“Yep?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, though you may not be saying that after a week of our company.”

“Ha, you’re probably right. Okay, go get your food. I’ll see ya, buddy.”

“See ya.”

I hung up and jumped off the bed, but not before I shot off a message to Ty and Ethan asking one of them to go over to Gabe’s and make sure he had the support he needed. Grabbing the first shirt I found, I dragged it on, but with no time to change out of my damp jeans, I left the room and jogged down the hallway into the comfortably warm living room.

The empty comfortably warm living room.

“Shit.” He must have gone over to his own place to get dressed. Sick of waiting for me to get my ass into gear and help him out.

Heading for the doors, I glanced to the right and stopped dead, spotting Ash curled up on the couch under one of the throw blankets usually draped over the sofa arm.

Moving closer, I squatted down next to him to drink him in. I’d guessed he was a good few years younger than me, but with his eyes closed and face relaxed in sleep, he seemed even younger. Around twenty-three or twenty-four, he acted much older and more of a grownup than most people. The way he’d watched out for me, handled my issues, spoke of a maturity way beyond his years.

Despite telling myself to keep my distance, I couldn’t help running the backs of my fingers lightly down his cheek, the warmth of his face sending a frisson of heat into my hand and up my arm. I repeated the movement, unable to stop, needing to feel his soft skin against mine.

He stirred, twisting his head slightly into my touch as if he wanted to be as close to me as I did to him. My heart stuttered at the move, sending a warm spear of emotion into my cold body.

What was it about this particular man that constantly drew me to him? As if I were a ship in dark waters desperately trying to find my way to the shore. His beacon of light and kindness guided me away from the rocks to the safety only he offered.

Since our first meeting, the pull he’d exerted over my senses had never waned, tugging at a part of me I struggled to cling to amid the chaos my life had become.

From the little he’d told me about himself, I guessed his life hadn’t been easy and with my wayward, and totally off-limits daydreams about him in the shower, a pang of guilt nagged at my conscience. For whatever reason, I was drawn to Ash, and I wanted him more with each passing second. But causing him any more pain by us getting involved when I didn’t plan to stick around for the long term, meant this wasn't an option for me.

I needed to adhere to my decision and back off and be the friend he so generously gifted me the chance of being. Not some guy crushing on him who has major people issues and who falls to pieces when trying to leave the safety of his own fucking house.

Standing and reaching over, I carefully lifted another throw off the arm of the sofa and draped it over his sleeping form, gently tucking the edges around his shoulders where the other blanket had slipped down. Satisfied he’d be warm and comfortable, I quietly returned to my room to shower and change in time for when he eventually woke up.

Chapter Eight

Ash

Soft music filtered into my awareness as I surfaced from one of the best sleeps I’d had in ages. Stretching my limbs, I opened my eyes, fully expecting to see the outdated sofa and worn-out furniture of my living room, but frowned, instead, on seeing new polished hardwood floors, deep squishy sofas, and pristine white walls.

I shot up to my elbows, fully awake.

“Hi,” Mason’s deep, sexy voice greeted me. He came into view, crouching down in front of me, his hand out and resting on the sofa to steady himself. He’d obviously had a shower as he’d changed into a white T-shirt, his hair damp and pushed away from his face. The faint aroma of almond body wash filled my nostrils, the same one I’d used earlier, and I suppressed a quiver knowing his scent was all over me.

“Hi.” My voice came out low and gravelly. I laid the blame for that on me recently waking up, and not for any other reason.

Lifting his arm, he squeezed my shoulder. “You were out for a while. I hope you didn’t mind me leaving you there, rather than disturbing your sleep?” Thoughtfulness and kindness, a winning combination to someone who’d received them from so few others. A weird sense of déjà vu washed over me at seeing him crouched beside me, the heat from his hand seeping into my bare skin. However, the scene wasn’t quite the same, as I don’t recall him holding my shoulder. I struggled to remember through my hazy recollection. The memory of gentle fingers came to mind, but hadn’t they been caressing my cheek?

I shook my head. I must still be dreaming, as there’s no way he’d be touching my face, is there? Mason released me, and I awkwardly sat up, the blankets dropping from around my chest, falling to my waist before I moved them off to the side. When had I pulled those over myself? I was going to get up but stopped, remembering I only wore the towel I’d used after my shower, and nothing else.

Flicking my eyes to Mason, I froze at his expression. An intense hunger flashed briefly in the depths of his eyes as they roved over my bare torso, pinning me where I sat. He couldn’t be attracted to me, could he? When we’d hugged yesterday and he’d gotten hard, I’d logically attributed his reaction to being held by someone after barely having any contact in the last few months. He was straight, right? My chest heaved as I tried to pull in some air to replace what I’d rapidly released seconds ago.

His brows furrowed. “Ash?” he asked. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Woke up too quickly, I guess,” Did he have to be so close? His normally ice-blue eyes had almost disappeared in the blackness of his wide pupils. We stayed, locked in stasis, our eyes intent on each other. I daren’t move, acutely aware of my near nakedness but not wanting to break the spell either. Mason’s eyes briefly dropped to my lips, and I thought I may pass out at the suggestion he might want to kiss me.

Please kiss me. My inner voice silently pleaded, even though we shouldn’t. He was confused. Not in the right frame of mind. The walk on the beach had likely overstressed him. I was meant to be his friend. I promised to be his friend. I needed to stop.

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