Page 14 of Possession

Almost overnight, he was making thousands of dollars a month, and their entire dynamic shifted. From one moment to the next, they’d gone from Vinnie needing to help keep Mason afloat from month to month to Mason bringing home just as much as him.

And then more.

And then double.

Not only had he grown in popularity online, but Mason had blossomed into a stable, self-confident person who didn’t need help from Vinnie anymore. He didn’t need anything from anybody. It was like a gaping hole in their relationship that had always been there had suddenly been exposed.

If Mason didn’tneedhim, then how long would it be before Mason left him?

Turned out—not nearly as long as he’d hoped.

“Did you hear me?” Ollie asked, still annoyed.

“I heard you,” Vinnie said, swallowing the last of his vodka and then pouring himself another. “He, uh, got there, okay?”

He hated that he had to beg for information from somebody else, making it clear that Mason wasn’t talking to him. That no matter what he said, Ollie was right. This wasn’t some ordinary argument where one of them just needed to blow off some steam before coming home.

There was a brief pause, like maybe he was surprised that Vinnie didn’t know, and then he said softly, “Yeah, he’s fine. I’ve got him all tucked in up in Tank and CJ’s old room. He was pretty tired, so he’s probably already asleep.”

Vinnie doubted it. Neither one of them slept well while apart, too many years of sharing a bed. First, they’d done it out of necessity when they could barely afford their studio apartment and then out of comfort and familiarity. They had grown so used to each other’s warmth and having another body in the bed next to them that they never bothered getting a two-bedroom, even after they could have easily afforded it.

“Thanks, Ollie. Talk later,” he mumbled and then hung up, all his anger from a few minutes before drained away.

For a long time, he stood at the counter in the kitchen of the apartment he’d lived in for a year but had never quite felt like home. No matter how hard he’d tried to ignore it, things had never been great in Atlanta. Mason had been miserable almost from the moment they’d left Michigan.

And now that half the closet was empty and all of Mason’s equipment was gone?

It felt like a tomb.

It was well past midnight before he dragged himself into the bedroom, stripped down, and crawled into bed. He buried his face in Mason’s pillow and inhaled. It smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, which Vinnie always teased him smelled like flowers, but Mason liked it, so he kept buying it.

He took another deep breath, pretending his whole body didn’t shudder with the effort of keeping his tears at bay. He didn’t deserve to cry. He was the one who’d made this mess. He had to live with the consequences.

More than anything in that moment—maybe even more than he wished for Mason to come back home—he wanted strong, reassuring arms to wrap around him. He wanted to be told that,yes, he’d messed up, but it wasn’t the end of the world, and that the owner of those arms would help him make it right.

But he knew that was a pipedream.

He’d given up on finding that perfect third for him and Mason a couple of years ago, though he’d let Mason believe he still had hope. After so many failed attempts, all his fantasies from when they were young and eagerly looking for a Dom who could give them both what they needed had dried up. Their desires were too different.Theywere too different.

He just hoped that when Mason found someone to give him all the things Vinnie couldn’t, he still got to be at least a small part of Mason’s life.

Six and a half days.

It took Masonsix and a half daysto text him back.

Vinnie had been in the middle of a shift from hell when it finally came through, and it was hours later before he had the chance to read it and respond.

Mase:Don’t forget to water the plants

That was it. That was the text message that Mason sent him after nearly a week of icing him out. When he finally clocked out and walked the few blocks to the building where his travel agency had set him up, he was fuming.

He threw himself down on the couch and called Mason via FaceTime. He had little hope that it would be answered. He was mentally preparing a sarcastic response to send back, maybe take a picture of one of the wilting plants and tell him that if he cared so much about his precious babies, he should have stayed.

But Mason answered.

He couldn’t see much of the room behind him, but it looked like the walls were bare. Could he still be in Tank and CJ’s old room? Vinnie wouldn’t have thought the MC would be okay with somebody crashing at their clubhouse who wasn’t a member—or at least dating one.

“After a week, that’s all you have to say to me?” Vinnie asked, his voice cold. After the fourth day, he’d moved past devastation and feelings of abandonment and had been simmering at a low anger ever since.

---