Page 52 of Pretty ’n Peak

“I think I’ll go lay down.”

“We’re all here when you want to talk. And Daddy, too. I know he’ll want to help.”

“Thank you,” Austin said. It was all he could manage right now.

Words replayed in his head from disparate moments. But don’t you love me, Sir? in that simpering voice. I thought you wanted a brat, when Austin called Cam on his bullshit. You never want to do anything any more, when Austin was already afraid to walk in the door each day, not sure what mood Cam would be in.

And after each statement, Austin would cave. Again and again, even as his chest went tight and his head started to ache.

Austin felt around for his cane, shaking it so the pieces snapped together. As voices softly rose behind him, he headed for the darker block of the doors, then inside.

The air inside was subtly different, exchanging the crisp, dry pine scent of the mountains for the rich greenhouse scent of growing things and water. Ahead, he made out the lumps of brighter colors were chairs and couches. They were arranged in clear lines that made it easy for him to walk across the room and find the elevator.

He had just turned toward it when he heard a hopeful voice.

“Austin?”

It was Mateo. God, how had he forgotten?

This whole conversation had started because… because Mateo wanted him to hold him after his next scene. Sweet, eager Mateo who made his heart race and his dick hard for the first time in so long.

“I’m over here,” Mateo called, his voice a ray of sunshine. Cushioned footsteps grew closer. “I hope it was OK what Carlos asked. I didn’t actually tell him to. But, um, he’s kind of a lot. And I just thought…” Such eagerness. Such hope.

Austin didn’t turn. There were still too many thoughts at war in his head, the old wrestling with the new. How could he possibly give Mateo what he wanted when he didn’t even know what he wanted, or who he was? When he couldn’t sort out Cam’s insidious voice from his own feelings? When he was still feeling so betrayed by his former sub?

The footsteps stopped, just a few feet behind him. “Oh, uh, are you…? Damn. I’m sorry.” Austin could hear Mateo shrinking in on himself with each halted word. “I thought that… Well, never mind.”

Austin felt like he was trapped in ice. Part of him still wanted to return to the cave of his hotel room, to dig through the gnarled, tangled roots of his memory and see if he could find a way through the thorns.

But that was met with an equal surge of anger, burning like fire through the bracken. How many hours had Cam already stolen from him as he brooded over their failed relationship? How many moments had he missed with friends? How many potential scenes had he walked away from, convinced that he wasn’t enough?

Mateo’s footsteps started to retreat, a whisper of sound. “Sorry,” he whispered one last time.

Mateo was behind him right now… hurting.

He couldn’t stand the idea of Mateo hurting.

Austin wheeled around. “Mateo? Hang on.” Austin crossed to him in four long steps. He reached out a hand, catching the gently furred warmth of Mateo’s arm first, and then following it down to tangle their fingers together.

Relief surged through him when Mateo returned his grip.

“What’s going on?” Mateo asked in his deep, lilting voice. “I feel like I missed something.”

Austin snorted. “You did. Um… man, it’s been such a day.” He dropped his cane to his chest and ran his other hand through his hair. “I just got some difficult news and… hell, it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure?” Mateo squeezed his hand, and it sent a tingle through his body.

Austin shook his head. “I’m not sure about anything right now. But…” What was he willing to promise? What did he want? “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Yeah?” Mateo packed so much hope and pleasure into one small word.

“Yeah. We’ve got that gift card to use. And there’s no one else I’d rather share it with.” That was something he was certain about.

He needed a break from thinking about Cam. Needed to see if he could live again.

“Did Carlos say anything to you about… tonight?” Mateo was back to that compelling mixture of eager and shy.

“He mentioned that you’d like me to do aftercare.” Austin stroked Mateo’s wrist, the plump softness such a delightful contrast from the roughness of his hands.