by Nikki Ash
Chapter Thirty-One
Mila
I’m sitting on Mason’s lap, naked, yet it feels like he’s is the one completely baring himself to me. He looks at me with unshed tears brimming his lids, and I want nothing more than to hug him tight and never let him go. My heart hurts so badly for the man sitting under me. He’s almost thirty years old, but he sounds like a child as he confides his deepest fears to me. His father and mother made him feel like such a burden that he’s terrified to depend on anyone, or for anyone to depend on him. He’s petrified he’ll let us down, and equally petrified we’ll either let him down or we’ll resent him when we try to meet his needs.
“You will never feel like a burden to me, Mason.” I frame the sides of his face with my hands and bring my lips to his, hoping every ounce of love I feel for him will transfer to him through our kiss.
I feel him pulling back, but I’m done discussing this. Nothing I say is going to change how he feels. My actions, over time, is what will show him and prove to him his love isn’t a burden. His parents were so damn wrong for what they did to him. And once his dad died, instead of taking responsibility and pulling her shit together, his mom tried to take the easy way out. She put her own needs above her son’s. As a mother, your child’s needs come first, always. You do everything in your power to make your child feel loved and wanted and cherished. You could be an inch away from living on the damn street and your child shouldn’t have a fucking clue. What Mason’s parents did, no parent should ever do to their child, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing him what real love feels like.
My lips meet his once again, our tongues swirling around each other. With one hand using Mason’s shoulder to hold me up, I rise up enough so I can use my other hand to pull his dick out of his pants while he pulls the wrapped towel off my head and throws it to the floor. Gripping his shaft, I lower myself onto him, his hard, thick, length stretching me wide until I’m fully seated. Our kiss becomes harder, rougher, Mason’s teeth nip at my lips as I move up and down. His fingers entwine around the strands of my wet hair, holding me close to him. Our tongues and mouths and bodies are connected in every way as we make love to each other. All too soon, I’m moaning out my orgasm, and soon after Mason is finding his own release.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I whisper against Mason’s mouth. “Just know, when you feel like you’re alone in the dark, I will be here. I will always be your light.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mason
“Surprise!” everyone shouts when I step into Tristan’s house. When Mila texted me to meet her here, I thought it was for a simple barbeque. I had no clue I was walking into a surprise birthday party for me. I glance around the living room and it looks like Harry Potter threw up everywhere. I’m talking balloons, streamers, posters. If it was created for a birthday party and has Harry Potter on it, it’s in this house. Mila comes running over and hugs me.
“Happy Birthday! I know it’s tomorrow, but I was afraid if I did it for tomorrow you would get suspicious.” She gives me a kiss on my cheek and steps back so everyone else can wish me a Happy Birthday. I greet everyone, giving hugs to the women and handshakes to the guys, but the entire time I’m in shock. I’ve never in my thirty years been given a birthday party, let alone one as cool as Harry freaking Potter. Sure, Tristan would take me out for a drink or the guys would buy me a lap dance at a club, but men don’t do parties. This entire ordeal is all Mila, and she has no idea how much it means to me.
“Mason! Look at the cake!” Alec grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen. “Mom let me pick it out!” Sitting on the counter is a huge multi-layer cake. When I get closer, I see each layer is a different Harry Potter book, and the topper is none other than the sorting hat!
“You did a great job picking it out, Bruiser,” I say, trying not to get choked up. “It’s the best cake I’ve ever had.” I don’t bother to tell him it’s the only cake I’ve ever had.
“I’m glad you like it,” Mila says, joining Alec and me.
I pull her toward me. “Thank you,” I whisper against her lips.
“Eww!” Alec yells. “I’m going swimming!” He runs out of the kitchen.
Tristan is manning the barbeque with his dad, Kaden, while the rest of the adults are all chatting and mingling near the pool, watching the kids swim. I’m sitting on a patio chair watching Alec and Mila. Alec is swimming away from Lexi who is yelling something about having the cheese touch and needing to get rid of it, and Mila is sitting along the edge of the pool, her feet dipped into the water, next to Charlie, laughing. Every now and then she locks eyes with me and shoots me a smile or a wink.
“So, the big three-oh, huh?” Ashley sits next to me and pats my leg, smiling at me. She’s the closest thing to a mother I’ve had since my mom went to prison, and I’m glad she and Kaden have moved to California.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting old.” I roll my eyes. When she doesn’t say anything I look over at her and she’s grinning like a freaking Cheshire cat.
“What?”
“Happy looks good on you.”
“And what does happy look like?” I joke, but she answers seriously.
“When I saw you sitting outside of Cooper’s gym, looking more like a lost little boy than like the eighteen-year-old man you were, as a mother my heart broke for you. But you wouldn’t let anybody pity you. From the moment you stood up and shook my hand and told me you were there to train at the best gym because you needed to become a UFC fighter”—she laughs but it’s watery from the emotion embedded in every word she speaks—“I knew you would conquer the world. And you did. You busted your butt and became the champion.
“But through it all. Every win, every laugh, every smile, every smart-ass joke there was something missing. Until now. Until her.” She smiles at me warmly. “I can see it in your smile—it’s bigger, brighter. I can see it in the way you watch her and her son—protective and loving. It’s the way Kaden used to watch me and Tristan and our girls—the way he still does.”
She sighs. “I’m not going to lie…I was starting to get worried this day wouldn’t come. Not because you aren’t capable of loving someone. We all know you are. You were such a godsend when Tristan went through everything. You stood by his side and helped him raise Lexi. But even after everything you did for my son and granddaughter, you still didn’t believe you were capable of love, deserving of it. I watched you hide behind your one-night stands and your jokes and I prayed for this day. I’m so happy for you, Mason. I’m so happy you let love in.”
I smile at her and nod in agreement, but I don’t tell her what I’m thinking. It’s not that I let love in. It’s that I let Mila in. There’s no love or happiness without Mila and her son. They are the definition of it.
“Mason!” Alec yells, and I turn my head toward him so he knows I’m listening. “Come play with me! It’s all girls.”
I turn back around to Ashley, unsure of what to say, but like the amazing person she is, she gives me an out. “You don’t have to say anything,” She smiles. “I’m just so happy you’re happy.” We both stand and she pulls me into a hug. “I love you, sweetie.” This isn’t the first time she’s told me she loves me, but over the years I never said it back. Not only did I not understand what the word truly meant, but what I did understand, I didn’t believe in. But now…those words…they mean everything.
“I love you too.”
I hear her gasp softly at my words, but she doesn’t say anything. She never has. She’s always loved me as if I was her own son…from the first day she took me in.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mason
“Don’t forget we have practice tonight.” I’m sitting in Tristan’s kitchen at the breakfast bar while he makes us both a protein shake. We finished a hardcore workout, and since Charlie needs to be at the art studio late for an adult party Emma couldn’t do, Tristan had to run to pick the girls up from preschool and bring them home.
“A
re you bringing the girls?”
“Yeah, they just hang out in the dugout.” He hands me my shake as Georgia and Lexi run down the hall and into the kitchen. Lexi swings the fridge door open and huffs not even a second later.
“Daddy, I can’t find anything to eat. When will Mommy be home?” My eyes shift toward the fridge and see it’s filled to the brim. If that’s empty, I can’t imagine what full looks like.
“Lex, grab some fruit. I’ll make dinner in a little bit.”
“But Mommy makes us snacks after school, and my belly is so hungry now.”
“We can make them,” Georgia whispers, her eyes flitting from Tristan to Lexi. She’s come a long way from the shit her biological father put her through, but there are still times when she gets nervous about asking to do certain things. Tristan, the damn good dad he is, picks up on it immediately and stops what he’s doing to kneel down at her level.
“You absolutely can,” he says warmly to Georgia, and she grins softly.
“Yay!” Lexi squeals. “Let’s play Mommy!” Then she turns toward Tristan. “Can we make you guys a snack?” She tries her best to sound like Charlie and I chuckle at her cute imitation.
“Sure,” Tristan says, sitting on the stool next to me and taking a sip of his shake. The girls squeal and start pulling different packages from the fridge, laying it all out on the floor since the counter is too high for them. I catch Tristan watching them, a wide grin across his face, and I pat him on his shoulder.
“You look happy.” Well shit, now I sound like Ashley.
He lets out a low chuckle. “I am. I really am. I have Charlie and our girls. My parents are living down the street.” He gives me a pointed look. “And I don’t have to worry anymore about your ass dying alone.”
I let out a snort and take a sip of my shake. “I’ve only been married for a month. I still have plenty of time to mess it all up.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He turns toward me, and I tell him the truth, exactly what I’m thinking.
“Every morning I wake up and wonder why she’s with me. I go through my day waiting for her to realize she fu—screwed up. When we go to bed, I wait for her to tell me she made the wrong decision.”
Tristan’s about to say something, when Lexi and Georgia come over to us, their cute little behinds carrying napkins full of food. “Here you go, Daddy.” Lexi hands Tristan his afterschool snack.
“Thank you, Lex.”
“Here, Uncle Mason.” Georgia hands me mine.
“Oh, thank God!” I sigh dramatically. “I’m starving.” Georgia giggles.
“Can we eat our snack at the drawing table?” Lexi asks Tristan. Lexi, Georgia, and Charlie all love to color and paint, so when they made their renovations to the house, Tristan added a nook type of area off the kitchen where the girls could do arts and crafts and not destroy the good table.
“Go ahead,” he tells them. “I’m going to make dinner in a few minutes and then we’re going to the baseball field.” The girls groan but don’t argue, taking their food to the table.
“Now, back to your insecurity issues. Why would you think Mila’s going to regret marrying you? I’ve only seen you two together a handful times, but she’s always happy.”
“That’s just it!” I throw my arms up. “She’s always happy. There’s no way it’s this easy. I read her profile on the dating site. She wants the fairy tale. I haven’t done anything to take care of her. She pays her half of the bills. Takes care of Alec. She works every day. We switch off cooking. She does all the laundry, and I play video games with Alec. I haven’t read many Disney stories, but I doubt that’s the fairy tale.”
“Did she actually say she wants a fairy tale?”
“No, but it’s implied.”
Tristan scoffs. “The fairy tale is make believe. Women aren’t looking for a guy to find her glass slipper or save her from the bad guy. They just want to be loved and heard and appreciated.” He shrugs. “Oh, and for their husbands to remember the important dates like Valentine’s Day, your anniversary, and their birthday.”
My mind runs through the dates. Valentine’s Day has already passed, we just got married…shit, when’s her birthday? She threw me a Harry Potter birthday party and I don’t even know when hers is.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I shoot her a text.
Me: When’s your birthday?
She replies immediately.
Mila: May 3rd
“Shit! Her birthday is in two weeks.”
Tristan chuckles. “You need to chill out. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to be with anyone,” I point out. “The odds are stacked against us. I can do everything in my to make her happy, but what happens when I can’t? What happens when I forget a holiday? Or worse, what happens if I lose my job? What if she gets sick and needs a goddamned kidney and I can’t give her one?”
I sigh and scrub my hands up and down my face. “I realize I’m freaking out, but I can’t help it. The expectations are always present. Every day I have to think about someone else, their wants and needs. I have to make sure she’s taken care of.”
“And you don’t want to do that?” Tristan questions, his tone completely free of any judgement.
“I do. That’s not the problem. I want to take care of her. I want to make her happy. I thought I would hate it, resent her for it, but I don’t. Knowing she’s happy does some shit to me I can’t even explain. But what happens when she’s not happy? Because let’s be real… it’s a possibility. She’s already been through one divorce. And look at my mom. My dad couldn’t make her happy… I couldn’t make her happy. And over twenty years later, my mom still isn’t happy. So what happens when I can’t make Mila happy? What happens when I can’t take care of her?”
Even to my own ears, I sound fucking crazy, but I can’t stop the words from vomiting out. “You know where it’s going to leave me? Dying alone. Only, I will have known what it’s like to be loved by Mila and I’ll be fucked.”
Tristan stands and walks around to the other side of the counter and looks me dead in the eye. “You’re right.” He nods, and I flinch at his words, not expecting him to agree with me. “You’re absolutely right. You can do everything in your power to take care of Mila and her son. You could move heaven and earth to make her happy, and in the end, she can still leave you. I’ve told you this before. Nothing in life is guaranteed. But you can’t live your life with that mindset—waiting to fuck up. Waiting for her to leave you. All you can do is wake up each day and love the fuck out of your wife. You make the best choices you can, and if it’s meant to be, it will be. Stop focusing on the negative and focus on the positive.”
Fuck, I know he’s right, but it’s so goddamned hard. Since the day I turned eighteen, everything I’ve ever done has been in my control—from moving to Las Vegas, to training at Cooper’s gym, to choosing to move to California. Every woman I slept with and kept at arm’s length were my choice. Every person I choose to hang out with. Every decision I make only affects me…until now. I swore to myself I would never be vulnerable again. The day my mom was arrested, and for the years following, nothing was in my control. Where I lived, who I lived with. I was a burden to my mom, to the state, to my foster parents. I learned to only depend on myself and to never put myself in a situation where I’m responsible for someone else’s happiness. But here I am, and I know no matter how hard it is, no matter how scared I am, I can’t walk away from Mila.
“Just know when you feel like you’re alone in the dark, I will be here. I will always be your light.”
Needing her light, I grab my phone and excuse myself to call Mila. She picks up on the first ring. “Mason.” Her voice is cold and harsh, and my stomach drops.
“Mila, what’s wrong?”
“I looked at my bank account when paying the bills today. Why is there two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in there?”
I let out a sigh of relief. �
�Jesus, woman, you scared me. I thought I did something wrong.”
“Why is there two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in there, Mason?” she asks again.
“That’s from the interview. Kenny told you they would be transferring the money over.”
There’s a moment of silence and then Mila says, “I-I didn’t know it was that much. I’m not taking all that. I’m not even the famous one. I’m just the woman who got drunk and convinced you to marry me.”
Now it’s my turn to be silent. I know she didn’t mean it as a dig, but it still hurt. “Can we talk about this tonight? I was calling to see if you’re going to practice.”
“I can’t. I need to make Alec dinner and get some laundry done. I’ll see you at home.”
“Okay.” I go to hang up but before I do, I add, “I love you, Mila.” It’s the first time I’ve said the words to her since I admitted to her the weekend of the fight I’d fallen in love with her, and I’m not sure why I pick now to say them again. Maybe it’s knowing she’s upset with me, and I can’t show her how I feel. Maybe it’s because I feel her pulling away. I don’t know.
“I love you, too, Mason. I’ll see you when you get home.”
We hang up and my phone immediately rings. Assuming and hoping, it’s Mila calling back, I hit the green circle, accepting the call. “Mila?”
“No, who’s Mila?” The voice is low and raspy, definitely a woman’s voice, and even after not hearing it for several years, I know right away whose voice is on the other end of the line.
“Mom.”
“I was given your number from your attorney…” She sounds scared, and flashbacks of my past surface.
“I told him he could give it to you. Is everything okay?”
“I…um…never mind. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry.”