Blindspot (Daydream, Colorado Book 1)

by A. M. Rose

  He had taken that road before, and all it got him was pain and loneliness. And it did the same to Drew. If Mason never told him how he felt back then, maybe Drew would have been more comfortable turning to him as his best friend, instead of someone who wanted to be something more.

  Years of loving Drew with all he had had taken a toll on him, and he couldn’t keep doing it anymore. He had to find a way to move on, and the only way he could think of doing it was to finally get out of the limbo he’d put himself into.

  “Are you okay?” he asked lamely as he observed Drew’s tall form slumped on his bed. Just like always, he came to Mason when he had a falling out with his parents. He never said much about what they were fighting over, but things between them were tense ever since Troy died.

  “Yeah… I just…” he said, then stopped himself and shook his head.

  “You know you can talk to me, Drew,” Mason said, and Drew looked up, eyes bloodshot and face pale and tired.

  “I know, Mase,” he said and leaned towards him, sliding down until his head was resting in Mason’s lap, and his black hair was just a fingertip away from his hands. He couldn’t help but card his fingers through it; gentle, loving, filled with everything he didn’t dare say.

  They sat like that in silence for what felt like hours, and Mason didn’t care one bit. He could have stayed like that forever. Quiet, calm, with the man he loved trusting him to take care of him.

  “I feel like I don’t matter to anyone,” Drew said slowly after a while, and any other time Mason would tease him for his artistic, melodramatic tendencies. Drew was always sensitive, overly emotional sometimes, feeling everything tenfold. And Mason, sarcastic and closed off as he was, tended to tease him over it. More to pull him out of his funk than to disrespect anything he might have been feeling.

  But this statement, the broken, trembling voice it was delivered in, set off every protective instinct inside him.

  “Drew,” he gasped, lifting him up until they sat facing each other on his bed. Drew’s head was hanging low, and Mason clasped his damp cheeks in his palms.

  “Why would you say that?” he asked, and Drew ran a hand over his face, shaking his head.

  “I’m just being melodramatic like you always say. Stuff at home is shit again, so it’s getting to me,” he said trying to make light of it, but Mason saw right through it.

  “I know I tease, but I’d never walk all over your feelings. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing new. I’m just being my needy self again. You don’t need to put up with it,” he said with a fake smile, and Mason hated it.

  “When have I ever put up with anything I didn’t want to put up with?” he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, and this time Drew’s smile was warmer. More real.

  “Never?”

  “Exactly. I don’t have time for unimportant shit,” he said with a huff.

  “But you have time for me?”

  “You’re important shit.” He nudged his knee with his own. He knew he was trying to make the situation easier, lighter, but his heart was hammering and the love he had for Drew was pouring out of him in waves. He didn’t understand how Drew never realized he was in love with him. Mason was certain it was obvious.

  “Gee, thanks,” Drew said, and the small smile he managed to pull from him slid away, replaced by the hollowness in his eyes. Mason’s resolve strengthened at the sight of it. He had to tell him. He had to let him know that no matter how alone he felt there was someone there who loved him. He had to know he was someone’s world.

  “Drew…” he called out and waited until he looked up at him. “This may not be what you want to hear right now but… I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mase,” he said easily. Mason huffed realizing that him and Drew have said those words to each other before. Completely platonically.

  “No… I… shit, I’m… I’m in love with you,” he said, fingers trembling and bravery packing its bags and moving somewhere far from where he lived.

  Drew sat silently for an eternity it seemed, staring at him. And then leaned in and kissed him.

  Mason remembered how that first kiss felt. Pure and gentle. And he remembered what it led to. Things that weren’t as pure, and yet, they felt like it. Soft touches, naked skin, a first fumbling attempt to make someone else feel good. Gasps and shivers. And then morning light awakening him to an empty bed and years of missing that body next to his.

  He couldn’t do it again. His eyes were watering from exhaustion, but he couldn’t fall asleep next to Drew again and have him be gone in the morning. The very idea made his heart race, made every slow blink terrifying to the point that the moisture in his eyes was no longer just from holding them open for too long.

  He reached out and clasped Drew’s shoulder in a trembling grip, shaking him until he frowned and shifted.

  “You need to go,” Mason said, voice waning under the pressure inside him, as soon as Drew opened his eyes.

  “Wha…?” Drew grumbled, still drowsy from sleep, and Mason could feel his heart breaking at how small he looked under his mountain of mismatched blankets. But this was too close. It was too much, and he just needed him gone before he broke.

  “You need to leave,” he repeated, voice edging on hysteria and it seemed to wake Drew up completely.

  “Mason…” Drew tried, but Mason shook his head and pointed to his door.

  “I need you to get dressed and get out. I can’t… just… please go,” he said, begged, and with a final stare at him, Drew got up from the bed covers, revealing his beautiful body and the marks Mason had left on him. A sick thought ran through his mind as Drew got dressed and with a final look towards him, walked out of his room.

  This time, he took something of Mason’s with him when he left.

  He was wrong to think having Drew gone would help him sleep. He was wide awake, walking around his apartment like a caged animal for hours.

  When he couldn’t stand his own company anymore, he headed over to the one place he knew he could find immediate comfort.

  “Run it by me again,” Sage said, making himself more comfortable on the couch.

  Mason shot him the filthiest glare, cheeks full of jam and cream filling.

  They were sat in Sage’s living room, eerily similar to a year ago when Mason had tried to comfort Sage after he first met Ben and the non-magical handyman had to leave town, only reversed now. Mason was the one bundled up in the blanket, heart and head a mess, thinking it was all hopeless while Sage did his best to make him feel better. Mason was still the one devouring the pastries on the table though. He wouldn’t give that role up to anyone.

  “I ran it by you three times now. You know what happened.”

  “You slept with Drew,” Sage recited for himself. “And then you kicked him out before the sun had even risen properly.”

  “Why do you sound so judgmental? You’re supposed to be on my side!” he accused.

  Sage held his hands up. “I made you fresh scones, I gave you my last jar of Gladys’ jam, I whipped up fresh cream… I’m on your side…”

  “But?” Mason prompted sullenly.

  “You still haven’t told me why.”

  Even thinking about it made tears spring to his eyes, and he swallowed painfully, cream and jam covered fingers falling slack on his lap. Mason felt like Drew in that moment, unable to speak. If he did, it was sure to hurt.

  “Mason,” Sage cooed sympathetically, gathering him up in a tight hug.

  “I missed him,” Mason admitted.

  “It’s okay to miss him. You loved him.”

  Past tense.

  Mason didn’t even know his own heart anymore. The way it yearned for Drew told him everything he needed to know about how he felt… but how could that be? They didn’t even know each other anymore. It was best to cut ties with that feeling, he just couldn’t seem to find sharp enough scissors.

  “He finally told me,” he whispered.

  “Why he left?” Sage asked in sur
prise.

  Mason drew back and swiped the heels of his hands over his damp eyes, irritated that he couldn’t stop crying. He reached for another scone and found one of Sage’s more helpful napkins trying to press itself into his hand, as if sensing his tears.

  “Do you feel better?” the baker asked hesitantly, giving his napkin a grateful smile.

  Mason laughed, cold and unfeeling, but accepted the napkin with soft hands. He set the knife to angrily smear another heaping of cream on top of a scone with a flick of a finger. “I wouldn’t say better.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sage murmured, playing with his hands in his lap. “I know I pushed you…”

  “It’s not your fault, Sage. You were right; if I had let him leave without talking to him, I would have regretted it, probably for the rest of my life. I needed to know… but it’s not what you probably think. I don’t… I can’t explain it.” He laughed again, leaning back into the sofa. “God, irony sure is a bitch.”

  Sage watched him in silence for a moment. “So, whatever he told you… led to you sleeping together?”

  “It was a mistake. It won’t happen again,” Mason said decisively, hating that his voice wavered. “That’s why I had to kick him out. Things are already so messy between us.”

  “I’ll say,” Sage huffed. “Wait, so, is he sticking around now?”

  Mason froze.

  He didn’t actually know. In fact, he hadn’t heard from Drew all day.

  He had kicked him out to avoid waking up alone, but that didn’t save him from the possibility that Drew could up and disappear anyway. Anxiety began to build in his chest, and he checked his phone reflexively. No notifications.

  “Well.” Sage blew out a breath. “At least you know Drew liked you… likes you.”

  Mason choked. “What?”

  “You don’t sleep with someone twice when you don’t like them,” Sage said.

  Mason snorted. “You’ve clearly never casually dated.”

  If asked, Mason couldn’t tell you much of anything about the few people he had slept with after Drew. He hadn’t been looking for a connection, just a momentary distraction.

  “But with Drew it’s different,” Sage pressed onwards. “You were friends first—”

  “And we should stay friends,” Mason cut in. “We were fine before I mentioned anything about my feelings towards him.”

  “Mason…”

  “No Sage, trust me, he needs a friend right now to support him and… I’m okay with that. I have answers, he apologized, that’s it,” he said.

  “And then you slept together again. I think there are still some things left to talk about there,” Sage said bluntly.

  The words hit true. Mason had an understanding now of what had happened ten years ago, but they hadn’t discussed anything. He had been swept away by the tornado of guilt, and sympathy, and love and let it overwhelm him. Now he was standing in the eye of the storm and he was looking at the wreckage that was still littered all around them, not really sure where to start cleaning up the pieces.

  “I don’t even know if he’s sticking around Daydream,” Mason said, diverting the conversation.

  “Sounds like you definitely have more to talk about then,” Sage said with a shrug, grabbing a scone for himself. “Why don’t you call him?”

  “Call the ex-best friend I fucked and kicked out of my house?” Mason asked, deadpan.

  Sage grimaced. “Past history and statistics show that Drew isn’t the bravest when it comes to these things. If you want to talk, you’re going to have to give him a call.”

  “You’re the worst,” Mason grumbled, setting the napkin aside and shoving more baked goods in his mouth for moral support before he pulled out his phone and stared at it.

  Troy’s journal entries were still imprinted in his mind, Drew’s touch was still imprinted on his body, and he didn’t really know where to begin now that the paradigm had shifted between them yet again.

  Mason searched for the anger he had always tried to hold onto while thinking about Drew, the only thing that had helped squash down the love he still held in his chest for him. It was no longer there. Now there was only fear. Fear of confronting Drew, fear for Drew, fear for himself… his biggest fear however was not getting to see Drew again.

  He realized that he wanted Drew in his life. It could never be what it used to, but they could be friends again if they really tried. He missed him. It had never not been true, even on days he would manage not to think about him or remember. They could be friends again, he decided. Mason could handle seeing him and talking to him while guarding his own heart. He wanted Drew in his life. He wanted to talk to him again. He wanted to help him.

  He opened his chat messenger. He typed, and retyped, and deleted text after text before slumping back down.

  "I need to settle my thoughts first," he sighed, and Sage patted his knee.

  "That sounds like a good idea," he said, and they lapsed into another silence. Comfortable and comforting. Exactly what Mason needed

  He didn't really know what he was looking for. He wanted to be away from home as much as possible, but Daydream being the same old small town, there were people everywhere. People that remembered him, people that felt the need to talk to him, ask him where he was, ask him why he was back and how long he was staying.

  He didn’t have the answers, and even if he did, he wouldn’t want to share them. They didn’t have to know where he was or why he was back. The only one who needed to know, didn’t seem to care. And it hurt more than he ever thought possible.

  He set off as soon as the sun broke above the horizon. Having not slept at all, he was up before either of his parents could try and get him to talk to them again. He walked the streets of Daydream by himself, finally able to see it without the added layer of failed relationships, friendships he didn’t have, and memories that painted every corner.

  Daydream at dawn, covered in snow and devoid of its residents, was gorgeous. The fireflies still flitted in the streetlamps, but their wings were heavy and tired, and their glow was fading softly as their shift came to an end. The neat rows of houses, with their lights still out and their matching roofs lined with snow, painted a postcard-worthy picture. Every so often, piles of snow that fell in front of doors would gather themselves into neat little balls and roll away, clearing the entryway so people could start their days easily.

  He wished there was a place for him here. He wished there was a nook carved in this town where he fit. And as he thought that, his heart told him there was, and his legs took him there on instinct.

  It still looked exactly the same. As if the weather, the woodland animals, and time had completely ignored its existence. A wonky, horribly built mess of mismatched planks and rusty nails. It had random little add-ons he put in over the years, rickety steps nailed to the ginormous trunk and little to no planning to make it functional. It was still a safe space. An island of happiness and belonging in the sea of detachment he felt living in Daydream.

  “I had it protected,” he heard from behind him. For a moment, he didn’t want to turn around in case he was just imagining him being there. He did it so many times over the years.

  “It’s um…it’s the only magic on it.” Mason came to stand next to him, their arms brushing, and Drew knew for sure he was there. There was no mistaking the smell of him, or the shiver his body gave when he was close. And he was close. Enough so that his messy hair brushed his shoulder. He turned his head to the side to look at him and remembered just how tiny Mason was when he had to duck down so much he heard his neck crack.

  “Did you do it?” Drew asked and Mason nodded, still not looking at him.

  “Yeah…”

  “Why?” Drew asked, turning on his feet to stand facing him. Mason wrapped his hands around his waist and lifted his shoulders to his ears in a shrug.

  “I didn’t want to lose it. It was…everything of yours I have is in there. For safekeeping, I guess,” he said, wrapping his scarf up around hi
s neck further. His ears were red from the chill air, and Drew wondered if he still hated the cold as much as he used to hate it.

  “Do you… do you come here often?” Drew asked, wincing at how it sounded. But Mason let out a loud laugh.

  “Are you trying to pick me up?” he asked, and Drew huffed out a laugh too.

  “That came out wrong.”

  “Yeah, no shit. And no, I don’t. Not anymore,” Mason said and Drew nodded. Silence fell over them, but somehow, it didn’t feel stifling like the last few times they were together. Drew didn’t mind this kind of silence.

  “We should…we should probably talk,” Mason said, raising his hand towards a patch of snow, a bit away from the trunk, clearing it with a soft flick of his fingers that sent a gust of wind to kick it up into the air in a flurry of snowflakes. With the same hand, he crooked an inviting finger, coaxing the tree they knew so well into extending a large root to the size of a small bench for them.

  He walked over to it, sitting down facing the treehouse. Drew had no other option but to follow. He sat next to him following his eyes and thinking how the sight of something so familiar felt like a comfort in the uncertainty he was feeling. He was both glad and worried about how close they had to sit because the makeshift bench was so small.

  “Okay… um… talk?” he asked, and Mason nodded, back straight and his body tense where he leaned against him.

  “Yeah. Okay, so…” Mason sighed at himself. “First… I think I need to apologize to you.”

  Drew blinked as the words settled in, he wasn’t sure he was hearing it right. He couldn’t mean… He blushed hotly thinking about the night they shared, but the following guilt soon put out the heat. Mason had been kinder than he had been in the same position, he, at least, had still been there.

  “You need… to apologize,” Drew repeated, disbelief clear on his face. “…to me?”

  “Yeah. Not sure if you noticed, but I’m an ass.” Mason shrugged, and it made Drew give a surprise chuckle because it was kind of true.

  “To quote someone I know… that’s absolutely news to me,” he said, going for sarcastic, but he knew he was never quite able to pull it off. Mason shoved him with his shoulder a little and tried for a smile, but Drew could tell it was strained. “You’re not an ass, Mason.”