“They don’t really seem like lawyer material, huh?” chuckled Liam.
“I think Tommy does. Philip’s maybe a bit–”
Philip burst through his office doors and flung himself at Liam, wrapping him up in a tight and enthusiastic hug.
“You’re here!” he cheered. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“But I called you?” replied Liam, confused.
“He’s just excited,” explained Tommy, who had come out of his own office and was now leaning against the doorframe. “He’s been cooped up all morning.”
Philip groaned. “I hate divorce filings. It’s so sad. And such a headache.”
Tommy came up to me and shook my hand, ever the professional. He tossed his head toward his office door. “Nice to see you again,” he greeted.
“Yes, good to see you,” I answered.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggested. “We’ll get started right away. I shouldn’t keep you too long.”
I quickly glanced over my shoulder at Liam, who gave me an encouraging nod.
“Okay,” I said.
“While they’re talking, why don’t I treat you to lunch?” asked Philip, obvious in his search to find an excuse not to work. “There’s a cute little bistro just downstairs.”
“Er, sure,” replied Liam. He looked to me. “You know where to find me, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, feeling a warmth bloom in my chest. Philip dragged him away, chatting his ear off about how busy his day had been.
“Right this way,” informed Tommy.
Tommy’s office was impressively decorated for such a small space. There was an entire cabinet along one wall, filled to the brim with various award plaques and trophies. He took a seat on the other side of a modest wooden desk, waving his hand at the empty seat before him to invite me in. He scooped up a pile of papers and tapped them against the surface of the desk to straighten them, tucking them away in a filing cabinet just to his side.
“So,” he said slowly, “I’d ask how things are with you, but I see here in my agenda you’ve been scheduled to discuss filing a restraining order.”
“Yes,” I replied, picking nervously at my fingernails.
“Well, I promise you’re in very good hands. There are just a few forms that we have to fill out, a few things I’m going to need you to get signed. But aside from that, it’s actually a pretty simple process.”
Tommy spoke firmly and clearly in a way that had me feeling quite safe. I let out a relieved sigh and nodded, smiling politely.
“Okay,” I said. “And thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Just doing my job.”
“No, I mean for agreeing to see me for free.”
Tommy chuckled, typing something in on his keyboard. “I owed Liam a favor,” he said with a wink. “Now, to be clear, you can file for a restraining order for free, especially if you believe yourself to be in imminent danger. But I’m going to give you legal counsel pro bono.”
“R-right.”
“What’s the name of the person you’d like to file this against?”
“Shawn. Shawn Murphy.”
“And do you know his address? The order will have to be delivered to him in person so he can’t deny receiving it.”
“He’s got an apartment in the Bronx. I’ll look it up for you.”
“Thank you. And, just so we have it on record, has he done anything like stalk you? Any harassment or aggravated assault?”
“Stalking, for sure. He showed up at Liam’s apartment this morning and–”
Tommy looked up from his desktop screen, expression stern. “At his apartment.”
“Yes.”
The way Tommy frowned had me sick to my stomach. “That’s definitely a difficult situation to be in,” he finally said.
“Do you think he should get one, too? Liam, I mean.”
“That’s ultimately up to him.”
“You don’t think Shawn would hurt him, do you?” I asked. My guts were twisted into awful, tight knots. It finally occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one in trouble with Shawn out there. He knew where Liam lived. He’d seen what Liam looked like. Just because I had a restraining order to protect me, who could tell if Shawn was crazy enough to go after Liam.
“Hey, calm down,” said Tommy softly, trying to cut me off from spiraling. “I’ll talk to Liam. If he feels it’s necessary, I’ll file a restraining order against Shawn for him, too.”
But then Shawn’s words echoed around in my mind, left me haunted.
“He… He said he’d kill Liam. He said he’d be back.”
“So definitely harassment, then,” noted Tommy. “Utterance of death threats. And Liam was there this morning to witness the encounter?”
“Yes. He was the one who confronted Shawn, actually.”
Tommy snorted, partially amused. “Surprised things didn’t get violent.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen Liam deck a guy for taking his spot at a bar when we were back in college. He’s really mellowed out. Whatever you’ve done to him, it’s working.”
“I haven’t done anything,” I said softly.
Tommy shot me a questioning look. “He likes you. I can tell.”
“You think?”
“Definitely,” he affirmed. Tommy returned his attention to his computer. But before he got back to work, he turned to me one last time. “Take good care of him. He’s a good guy. A little rough around the edges sometimes, but a good guy, nonetheless.”
“I will,” I promised, more to myself than anything.
16
Liam
The past two weeks had been the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life. It was almost ridiculous how full and content and warm Mason made me feel. He spent most nights at my place, not that I was complaining. He’d leave early in the morning to go to work, and I found myself wishing time to move faster just so I could pounce on him the moment he came home. I had never before complained about my work as a freelance web developer. It came with its perks –namely being able to sit around the house all day and code in my pajama bottoms. But now I was always aware of the quiet, of the vacuum Mason seemed to leave whenever he had to go about his day.
I hated how much I missed him.
So when he came home one Friday evening, I felt like an overexcited and cooped-up puppy waiting for him by the door. I could hear his footsteps shuffling just outside in the hallway. I unlocked the front door and swung it open before he even had the chance to get the door open himself. He never looked surprised, always greeted me with the biggest smile that melted my heart. I scooped him up in my arms, lifting him off the floor so that he had no choice but to hang on, wrapping his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist. I grabbed his ass, hungry to feel him against me.
He laughed into the kisses he gave me, light and bubbly and genuine. “Well, hello to you, too.”
“How was your day?” I asked, grinding my hips against him.
Mason let out a satisfying groan. “G-good. It was good.”
“And how was the meeting? That was today, right?”
“It was boring,” he admitted between hard kisses. “Lots of film feedback.” I kissed him again. “Reports.” I earned a soft gasp when I nibbled on his earlobe. “Boring.”
“That’s a shame,” I hummed as I grazed my teeth along his bottom lip. I could feel Mason getting hard against me, and I couldn’t help but smirk. I immediately let him down, leaving him wide-eyed and yearning. “We should get going. Dinner with your family’s at seven, right?”
As I started to turn away, Mason grabbed me by the shirt collar and dragged me against him, twirling us around and pinning me against the wall. He kissed me hard and deep, shoving his tongue into my mouth with purpose.
“You’re killing me, man,” he growled against my lips.
“We’re going to be late,” I informed him as I slithered my hand down the front of his pants. I wrapped my fingers around his
half-hard cock, thoroughly pleased with myself.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he accused.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“God, why’d I have to choose such a bad boy?”
“You think I’m a bad boy?” I mused.
“The worst.”
“You like it.”
“You’re only okay,” he snorted, but I knew he didn’t mean it.
I stroked his cheek and ran the pad of my thumb along his lips, grinning. “Come on. I don’t want your brother to hate me more than he already does.”
“You’re such a tease,” he groaned.
“You have tomorrow off, right?”
“Yeah.”
“If that’s the case,” I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his, “I’ll take tomorrow off, too. We can spend the whole day in bed together. How does that sound?”
Mason rolled his eyes and sighed, pulling away. “I hate you so much.”
I winked at him. “No, you don’t.”
Mason pouted his lips, clearly too hot and bothered to care about our dinner plans. I had to chew on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing outright.
“Don’t do that, babe,” I begged. “Now I feel bad.”
Mason tossed his head to the side, deliberately avoiding eye contact. “You should,” he hummed.
I laughed as I snatched him by the shirt collar and pulled him flush against me. I kissed him quickly, shoving my tongue into his mouth. Mason groaned deliciously when I reached down with both hands to undo the front of his pants.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to be late,” he mumbled, although he didn’t sound too concerned.
I helped him pull down his pants slightly to expose his hard cock. I smiled against his lips as I undid the front of my own jeans. I pulled my erect penis out over the waistband of my boxers and leaned my hips forward so that our sensitive members were touching. With my massive hand, I grabbed both our dicks by the shafts and started to stroke.
Mason mewled, grasping me by the shoulders to keep steady.
“You like that?” I purred.
“Harder,” he begged.
There was no need to tell me twice. I stroked faster and squeezed to apply more pressure. I would have preferred it if we had time to pull out all the stops. There was nothing like hurried, crazy sex when you knew we had somewhere important to be. But judging by the way Mason came into my hand and shuddered against me, this was more than enough. I concentrated on the sounds he made, which were dirtier than I thought should ever have been legal. My face heated up, radiating all the way to the tip of my ears and my head. The tightness in my gut exploded out as I came hard, body going limp against Mason’s. I sighed against his skin, nibbling lightly at his lips.
“Thank you,” he chuckled.
“No, no. Thank you.”
I shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen and grabbed a few paper towels, returning to clean us both off. Mason and I redressed, smoothing out the wrinkles in each other’s clothing before we grabbed our coats and headed out the door. I double-checked to make sure that it was actually locked. Mason hadn’t said anything, but I could tell he was still tense about the whole Shawn situation. The bastard had enough smarts not to show up after the order was successfully delivered, but that didn’t stop Mason from checking over his shoulder every now and then, didn’t stop him from peeking around corners before turning. It was probably why he spent most of his nights with me. He needed to feel safe, needed to feel comfortable –and I was more than happy to protect him.
As we drove, Mason scrolled through his emails on his phone.
“The caterer just messaged me back,” he informed.
“Oh?”
“He’s all set to go. We just need to give him the final guest number so he knows how much chicken to make.”
“Chicken? I thought we agreed on steak.”
“We’ve talked about this. With Drew’s budget, that’d be too expensive. It was a toss-up between fish or chicken.”
I groaned. “God, what a headache. I’ll have to call Drew later and ask if his guest list is finalized. What about the band?”
“Band?” echoed Mason with a crinkle of his nose. “I thought we agreed on a DJ.”
I glared at him. “You’re pulling my leg on purpose, aren’t you?”
Mason grinned that dashing grin that always got my heart fluttering. “Consider it payback.”
“God, I hate you,” I muttered.
“No, you don’t,” he retorted, words musical and teasing.
The restaurant was jam-packed by the time we got there. Had it not been for the fact that Mason had made a reservation, we probably would have been shit out of luck that evening. That’s what I liked about Mason. Always thinking ahead, always so smart. I don’t remember why I used to be so annoyed by that fact. The host happily showed us to our table, where Rick was already waiting. Mason’s brother stood and pounded his fist in greeting. Rick glared at me, regarding me with the same cold indifference the night I’d helped bring his father home from his drunken stupor.
“Oh,” was all Rick said.
“Please behave,” warned Mason.
“Are you saying that to him or me?” I asked.
“Interpret it how you will.” We all took a seat, but not before Mason noticed the two empty chairs at the table. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
Rick just shook his head. “Late.” There was bitterness in his tone and disappointment in his eyes.
“Is everything all right?”
“Same old, same old,” he sighed. “Dad was off drinking again. Mom yelled at him about it. It’s a whole thing. Mom told me to go ahead. They might be late. They said to feel free to get started without them.”
Mason pursed his lips into a thin line, brow pulling together into a worried frown. Instinctively, I reached for him and gave the back of his neck a comforting and assured squeeze.
“They’ll be here,” I said. Mason smiled appreciatively, but I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t about to let things go. He was a thinker, always had been. I could tell by the distant look in his eyes that he was already somewhere far away, thinking about how to solve somebody else’s problems. That’s really the only issue I took with him. Mason was always too busy helping others that he never really thought about himself. He was too busy worrying about his drunkard of a father, worrying about planning Drew’s reception party, worried about things at work.
Worried, worried, worried.
It was all I could do but wrap him up into a tight hug to try and convince him that everything was going to be okay, that it was okay to occasionally let go.
Rick clicked his tongue, obviously peeved about me touching his brother so familiarly. “So, what is this?”
“What’s what?” asked Mason, clueless. He was busy browsing through the restaurant’s massive menu.
“This,” stressed Rick, pointing between me and Mason. “What’s going on here? You two boning?”
I coughed, taken aback.
“Richard,” advised Mason. “Enough.”
“Oh, come on,” his younger brother snorted. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. I get enough of that from Mom and Dad.” He turned to me and glared a hole into the back of my skull. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Language,” insisted Mason, but he was completely ignored.
“I have no idea what you mean,” I stated flatly.
“What’s he got on you, Mason? Is he blackmailing you?”
“What? No, I–”
“We’re dating,” I said.
“Dating?” Rick laughed indignantly. “No fucking way. There’s no way my brother’s stupid enough to date someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” I echoed, feeling rage boil up from the pit of my stomach.
“You know he used to come home and have panic attacks because of you?” continued Rick. “I remember him saying he didn’t want to go to school beca
use he was scared of what you’d do to him.”
I looked to Mason, feeling the blood rush out of my head. None of this should have been a surprise to me, but it was. Drew had told me, time and time again, to leave Mason alone. I never listened. I should have. Hearing how my relentless teasing actually affected him was a harder pill than I was ready to swallow.
“He’s already apologized,” argued Mason, frowning at his brother.
“I’m sorry. Are we talking about the same guy here? He apologized, and that makes everything better?”
“I was a kid,” I snapped. “I was stupid, and I wasn’t thinking. I know what I did was wrong, but I know better now. I would never hurt Mason like that again.”
“Why the fuck should I believe you?”
A hush fell over our table as the murmur of nearby conversation, the clinking of glasses and utensils on plates filling the silence. I stood from my seat, leaning against the table for support. I didn’t want to get angry, didn’t want to cause a scene. Especially not in front of Rick, who was saying all the right things to tick me the fuck off. I didn’t want to prove him right, that I was nothing more than a bully. Surely I was more than that, more than the dumb brute Rick so clearly saw me as. But Rick was right. I tormented Mason. I didn’t deserve him, not even a bit.
“Liam?” whispered Mason. He placed his hand gently on my forearm, but I pulled away immediately.
“I need some air,” I said through gritted teeth. I turned immediately and made my way out of the restaurant, ignoring Mason’s calls after me.
I shivered against the cold air and clenched my jaw as hard as I could. I could call an Uber and go home, but the idea of leaving Mason behind to suffer through a dinner with his family didn’t sit with me very well. He’d probably be mad at me if I left, and that was the last thing I wanted. He’d spent an entire lifetime being mad at me. I didn’t want it to be that way anymore. But what was I supposed to do? I’d already done so much damage. I couldn’t just walk back in and pretend like nothing was wrong. Sure, Mason said he’d forgiven me, but exactly how much of that was true? If our roles were reversed, if Mason had been the menace and not me, would I have forgiven him?
I Hate To Love You: A Contemporary Gay Romance Page 10
