Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Ryder…” he breathed, the word breaking on his tongue.
I stood there in silence, utterly frozen. I mentally told my eyes to look away, anywhere but at him, yet they refused to move - arrested by his intense gaze.
“H-how are you?” he asked.
“You’re here for the shoot?”
“No, I, um….just came to talk to Ivan about something.”
The following silence was deafening. I stood nervously with my hands trapped in my pockets and my right foot tapping gently on the floor. “Sooo, how are you?” I returned his question with a shaky voice, unsure what else I was supposed to say.
“Ryder I just want to talk to you. Please.”
“You are.”
“Not like this. Not idle niceties, and not here. Let me stop by your place later. When you’ve finished here.”
“Mason I don’t think that’s-”
“Please, Ry. Do you really hate me that much? I don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to have done!” His voice began soft and pleading, but steadily grew angrier with each word.
The cord of guilt wrapped around my neck tightened, pulling taut as he spoke. It choked me, made me breathless, weakened the walls I’d built around myself. “I’ll be home around five.”
“Thank you,” he said. It came out as a breathy whisper and then he sighed, holding a hand to his chest. “Please don’t change your mind.”
“I won’t.” And I meant it. I knew in my heart I’d been a selfish prick who’d treated him unnecessarily like shit, but it was the only way I could survive. He was getting too close. I was getting too close. I couldn’t risk that. “Here,” I added, handing him the key to my apartment from my pocket. He left his behind the day he took all his things. He didn’t even say goodbye, not that I deserved that much from him. “Wait for me there. I’ll wrap up here as soon as I can.”
“Sure,” he said, nodding as he plucked the key from my hand. Both too nervous, maybe even afraid, to say anything else, we parted in silence. I didn’t watch him walk away but I heard every step, felt every vibration of it in my heart, until I heard the door close at the end of the hall.
The shoot went laboriously slowly. I found it much harder than usual to put my game face on but according to Mark I was perfect. Apparently I gave him the ‘glimpse of my soul’ Ivan had been searching for. As usual, Mark pulled up some of the shots on the laptop afterwards and I couldn’t deny there were some good ones. All were naked but with no dicks on show. Tasteful. Intense. Powerful. I had no doubt this calendar was going to be a huge success.
I managed to keep the insides of my arm hidden and kept it close to my body throughout the shoot by saying I’d twisted a nerve there and it hurt to lift. With that arm stretched out towards the wheel on the drive home however, I used my free hand to apply slight pressure to the area. The ache was a welcome distraction as usual but the downside was I craved more. The wounds there were a couple of days old, the pain not nearly powerful enough to help me forget what I was going home to.
Mason.
My heart crawled up into my throat when I parked my car outside my apartment block. Trying to figure out why he had this effect on me had proved impossible over the last couple of months. Why wasn’t he just another friend? A close friend. A best friend. Why did he have to be something more? Something that I didn’t even understand.
The knot in my stomach almost made me turn around when I pressed the buzzer. Mason had my key so I was forced to wait outside the door with nothing to do but stress the fuck out until he answered. It felt like hours until the door started to creak open, though I’m sure in reality it was only twenty seconds or so.
“Hey,” Mason said, sounding as nervous as I felt.
“Hey.”
Wordlessly, he stepped aside and I walked gingerly past him, making sure to avoid even the briefest touch. I found it difficult to breathe in the dense air as I made my way over to the couch. I went to sit down but stuttered and ran my anxious fingers through my hair instead. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” I admitted, deflated and overcome with heavy guilt.
“I just want to know what I’ve done wrong,” Mason muttered, looking to the floor. His words sliced into my heart and the rims of my eyes began to sting. “I…I miss you, Ry.”
“You’ve not done anything,” I mumbled remorsefully. “Not on purpose at least.”
“I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.”