Pretend

Page 37

But he also wasn’t in the mood to see anyone tonight, either.
When the door opened behind him, he dropped his head against the back of the couch and mumbled, “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
“What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with your family? And why in the hell are you sitting in the dark?” Mason closed the door, and then hit the light.
“If you didn’t think I was home, then why did you come?”
“I stopped by the bar on my way home. Your house is between the bar and mine. I saw your car.”
Gavin looked at the clock. “It’s only nine. Wouldn’t have figured you’d make it home so early.”
Mason crossed his arms. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Damn it, he was being a prickly bastard, but he couldn’t help it. The need to fight, to lash out, ripped through every inch of Gavin’s body. This wasn’t like him at all, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “I don’t know, you just sounded like you were having an awfully good time with Isaac. I’m surprised it’s over so soon.”
“Are you shitting me? What the hell is wrong with you?” Mason moved closer to him and Gavin pushed to his feet. He felt like he would overheat, like someone injected fire into his veins and it burned him from the inside out.
He stood right in front of Mason; by now, both men breathed heavily. “I know we haven’t defined, whatever the hell this is we’re doing, but I appreciate knowing if you’re letting someone else fuck you at the same time that I am. He shows up at the bar and can’t keep his eyes off you. And then he goes home with you that night. Oh, and he just so happens to be at your family’s house with you, too. Fuck!” Gavin latched his hands together, behind his head, elbows facing forward. His eyes fell closed and he tried to calm down the storm trying to take him over.
What in the hell was wrong with him tonight?
“First of all, I told you there’s not a chance that Isaac and I are getting back together. I don’t lie. I can’t handle people who do. I know he can be a prick, but he’s my friend, and he’s close to my family. He’s at my parent’s house—often. You’re going to have to deal with that if we keep up whatever the hell this is we’re doing,” he threw Gavin’s words back in his face. “If you can’t trust me, then there’s no reason for us to keep this up.”
Guilt added to the hurricane blasting through his insides. Mason didn’t deserve his wrath.
“Hey. What the hell is wrong? This isn’t like you. If you have some shit you need to work through, I know of a better way to do it than this. Don’t pick a fight with me because you’re pissed at someone else. And what the hell, look at me.” He grabbed Gavin’s hands, prying them apart. When he did, Gavin opened his eyes, devastated from the category five that ravaged him.
“Fuck!” Gavin yelled again. He went to turn, but Mason grabbed his shirt in a tight fist and wouldn’t let him go.
“Tell me.”
“This isn’t a game. You don’t get to tell me what to do and then I just do it.”
“Are you mad? You look like you’re about ready to explode. You look like you want to hit me. Do you want to fight me?”
Gavin looked down to see his hands were in a fist. He shook them out, trying to figure out when he’d balled them that way. Trying to figure out what this was all about. He knew, but then…he’d always known how his parents felt, and he’d never reacted like this before, because Mason had been right. For a second there, he wanted to hit him—or someone. Anyone. He just wanted to let all the anger out that he kept trapped inside him.
“Nah, you won’t hit me. You want to fuck me, that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to fuck me hard, until you forget all the other stuff. Just screw it away and then go on about your life and pretend it doesn’t exist. Pretend that you haven’t been keeping it trapped inside you your whole damn life. I’m game, if you want.”
Mason started to unbutton his pants.
“Stop,” Gavin gritted out.
“Why? I like a hard fuck. We can pretend it’s the same as you used to do. Fuck some random guy, except before it was your ass—get that anger out about who you are, get the need to fuck out of you so you’re good for a while, and then we can go our separate ways.”
His zipper went down, and then Mason started to pull at his own jeans.
“Stop,” Gavin told him again, this time grabbing onto Mason’s hands.