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“What’d you hear?”
“Did he try to kill himself?”
Maison sighs heavily. “I really wish you would have stayed.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
I almost roll my eyes, then stop when I realize that’d get me in trouble. Except, it won’t get me in trouble. Because this is Maison. Just Maison. Definitely not my master. Possibly not even my boyfriend, despite how much I love him.
Something tugs inside of me. I love him.
Oh god.
Oh fuck.
“Nol?” he asks, his expression turning from angry to worried.
I love you.
I want to get fucked. Maison, do you want to fuck me?
Safe. The word was safe.
“Um.”
“Nolan?”
“I should go check on Casey.”
“You really shouldn’t.” Maison reaches out, gently gripping my elbow. “Jake’s got him.”
I study Maison’s face, trying to piece together the night before. Did he ever respond to any of those things? If he did, I don’t remember. What does that mean? That he doesn’t feel the same way? Should I bring it up? Should I pretend it didn’t happen?
“What happened?” I ask without meaning to.
He misunderstands. “I don’t know, okay? He may have tried to hurt himself. I’m not sure. The only one who knows that right now is him. I need to go get Dr. Singh to go check on him and see what he needs.”
I let the unintended topic shift go. Casey is the only thing that should matter right now. Whatever happened last night can wait. “You’re right. You should go.”
“I’m sorry you had such a rough wake-up.” He brings a fist up to my cheek, running his knuckles along the bone there. “You feeling okay?”
Not in the least. Pretty sure I’m either going to cry or throw up. “I’ll be fine. Casey really likes hot chocolate. Maybe you should bring him some?”
He smiles, unfurling his fist until he’s cupping my cheek. “God, you’re amazing, you know that?”
Amazing enough for you to love me back?
God, I really am a terrible person. This is so not the time for me to worry about this shit.
“You’re amazing too,” I tell him. “Go be amazing for Casey. I should get some greasy food and something for my head, anyway.”
“Yes. Definitely.” He presses a kiss to my lips, closed mouth and chaste. I don’t blame him. If my breath smells anything like my mouth tastes, he’s probably figured out he doesn’t want his tongue anywhere near it. Maybe I should brush my teeth before getting myself that food. “Steer clear of the tequila today, okay?”
I force a laugh. “Okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maison
