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“Zeb needs to recover. He doesn’t need another man being possessive over him.”

“Possessive?”

“You know what I’m like, Leo. He’s had enough of men being like that with him.”

“Would you let him go out with his friends if he wanted to?”

“Of course. As long as I knew where he was.”

“Why would you need to know where he was?”

“In case he needed me.”

“What if he went out on a whim and said he’d be late because he was out with his friends?”

“Why are you asking me these questions?”

“I know you, Mason, better than anyone. Possessive is not a word I would use to describe you. Protective? Definitely. But you’d never take his choices away like those other guys did, or raise your hand to him. Don’t put yourself beside them.”

“Now isn’t the time. Not after what’s just happened.”

“Shouldn’t that be Zeb’s decision?”

Mason wanted to argue that he knew what was best for Zeb, but that wasn’t true. Leo was right. It was up to Zeb. Leo had given him a lot to think about, but he knew that right now what was most important was Mason being a supportive friend.

It was Friday evening, and Mason had left Hunter in charge of the evening service. Hunter had asked for Saturday night off in exchange so he could go to some Christmas ball with Deacon. It was linked to one of Sebastian’s clients, and he was in London. Mason had also been invited, but working gave him the perfect excuse not to go. He hated those pretentious things, but knew it was necessary for him to make the odd appearance.

Zeb was taking a shower after work, and Mason was making mac and cheese at his request. Not something he’d made for a while, but if it was what Zeb wanted, he could do it. He’d made the pasta dough at the restaurant and cut it into pieces. He had the equipment here, but this had saved him over an hour of prep time. Mason didn’t want them to eat too late. Zeb had just finished his first week back at the restaurant, so he’d be tired.

He was preparing the cheese sauce with a blend of Comté, cheddar, Parmesan, and gruyere. Mason had smoked some leeks and finely chopped them. He would add black truffle, but he knew Zeb didn’t like the taste. He was grinding some of the bread he’d baked this morning to make breadcrumbs, and the smoked pancetta was resting on the side. Zeb was a big fan of bacon and anything within that family, so it was going in as well. Mason wanted the meal to be like a big hug to say how proud he was of him for getting through the week.

Zeb had decided not to press charges against Kaden. Mason had wanted to argue with him, but he’d promised to be respectful of his choice, as had Hunter, although he’d seen his sous chef chopping things more aggressively in the kitchen since he’d found out. Zeb had made it clear he wanted to put the thing behind him, but he had agreed that Ethan could do whatever he wanted in terms of his job. Zeb probably wasn’t aware just how much clout their nerdy friend had in the city.

Kaden had been fired in less than twenty-four hours and blacklisted throughout the wealth management industry. Even moving to another city wouldn’t save his career. Ethan had a lot of reach. He came from old money, although he didn’t speak about his family, who were on the West Coast. He’d built his own multi-million-dollar business, and had more pull than Sebastian in some ways. Ethan rarely exercised that power, but when he did, the man could be ruthless. To Ethan, Zeb was family, and once he’d gotten the word, he’d made sure Kaden Phillips would never work in financial services again for the rest of his life.

Zeb had said nothing when he was told Kaden had been fired. He’d just shrugged and gone back to his work. Mason was worried about him. His work had been impeccable all week, as it always was, but he was acting as if nothing had happened. Mason hadn’t gone into the details of just how fucked Kaden was now in regards to getting a job, but he doubted he’d care. It was Ethan who’d surmised that Zeb hadn’t wanted to involve the police, as that would mean he would have to relive it. Destroying the man’s career hadn’t caused Zeb any pain or distress, though. Ethan had dealt with it by making one phone call.

“It smells heavenly in here,” said Zeb, walking in.

He was wearing a T-shirt, sweats, and was barefoot. Mason loved how comfortable he felt in his home already. He loved having Zeb in his space, even though he’d never lived with someone before, other than when he was first starting out and had needed to share out of necessity.

“You made the pasta from scratch?”

“Of course.”

Zeb laughed. “Wow. And there was me trying to be helpful by suggesting something simple. You could have just bought a packet mix.”

Mason glared at him. As if he would ever do anything like that.

Zeb laughed again. “I knew you wouldn’t do that, but I wasn’t expecting this.” He looked at all the ingredients on the side. “I knew you’d make it all fancy, though.”

Mason felt his face heat. What was he embarrassed about? He cooked for people he cared about all the time. Would he have gone to this much effort for his friends? Of course, but he wouldn’t have made mac and cheese. They would have got what they were given.

“Do you want me to set the table?” asked Zeb.

Mason wanted to do everything, but he nodded so he could have a moment to himself. He wasn’t sure why he was getting flustered, although that was a lie. It was Zeb who did that to him. They’d never been in such close proximity with each other for a prolonged period like they were now. There had been no more talk of him moving out either, which was good. Mason was happy for him to stay forever. Not something he’d say aloud, though, as that would sound insane.

He’d been thinking about his conversation with Leo, and he’d decided. If Zeb said he was still interested, Mason wouldn’t push him away this time. It had been two years of him holding back from what he truly wanted. Zeb needed time, and Mason would give him that. He just hoped that now he’d decided to stop denying himself what he truly wanted, he hadn’t already lost the opportunity to build a future with Zeb.