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CHAPTER 9
ZEB
“Has Mason made a move yet?” asked Hunter.
“What do you think?” replied Zeb.
He was having lunch with Hunter and Felix. He’d been living with Mason for two weeks now, and it was both wonderful and torturous at the same time. Seeing Mason in various states of undress was not helping his libido. He loved a hairy chest, and Mason’s might be clipped, but the fuzz was perfection. There were light smatterings of gray in it, like in the hair on his head, and having his hair clipped short showed off his muscles. The things Zeb wanted to do to that body would make even Ryder blush. But he wouldn’t do anything that could disrupt what they had. He felt safe at Mason’s house in a way he hadn’t felt since before he left home, and even then, it didn’t feel like this. His feelings for Mason hadn’t changed, but the situation had. Mason wasn’t just his boss now; he was Zeb’s landlord. He couldn’t take the risk.
Zeb had lived with Hunter and Deacon for a couple of weeks before, and it had been a welcome change after the streets. Hearing his bestie getting pounded into oblivion every night was not a sound he’d ever be able to forget, but he’d been grateful to have a roof over his head for the first time in five years. Then Sebastian had arranged accommodation for him through a charity he supported. It had given him stability until he was ready to step out on his own. He would always be grateful for that.
Living with Mason was different to any of his other sharing situations. For one, they’d had a lot less space. If all of his most recent roommates had been home at once, you couldn’t move, and the walls were paper thin. Sometimes, he’d hear them getting railed through the walls. Those girls could be loud, so they were either getting pounded by giant dicks or were amazing actresses. Based on some of the pathetic-looking men he’d seen slinking out in the morning, he suspected the latter.
Zeb wasn’t sure what he’d do if Mason brought someone else back to the house. If it happened, at least the place was enormous enough he might not hear them. The thought of hearing a guy moaning as Mason fucked them would be his worst nightmare. The only person he wanted moaning in Mason’s bed was him. Zeb wondered if the man was as meticulous in bed as he was in the kitchen. Something he’d thought about a lot over the past two years.
“Maybe you could tip the odds in your favor,” said Felix.
“I don’t want to risk him kicking me out.”
“That’s never going to happen,” said Hunter. “And even if it did, you could stay with us.”
“And hear you moaning ‘give me your cum’ every night?”
Felix snorted. Hunter went bright red.
“You heard that?”
“People in Boston heard it.”
Felix cracked up laughing.
“I bet you’re not quiet with Ryder,” said Hunter.
“No, I’m not. That’s why we don’t do anything when people stay over.”
“Really?” asked Hunter skeptically.
“Most of the time. Ryder can be . . . persuasive, though.”
“We’ve seen his social media,” said Zeb.
It was Felix’s turn to go red. Ryder Quinn was hung like a horse, and that wasn’t guesswork from the social media thirst traps. When Felix was drunk one night, he’d shown them the dimensions with his hands. Nobody had spoken for about thirty seconds as they processed the information and then felt a mixture of awe and mild jealousy. Most of them might be happily coupled up, but they were still gay men.
“Mason just needs some encouragement,” said Hunter, with a twinkle in his eye.
“It’s not like I haven’t made my feelings obvious for the past two years,” said Zeb. “He’s never going to look at me like that.”
“He’s definitely interested,” said Felix. “We’ve all seen it.”
“Okay, so he might be interested, but he’ll never act on it.”
“Maybe at one time,” said Hunter. “It’s different now. He’s looking at you differently.”
“Because he feels sorry for me,” said Zeb, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Hunter scoffed. “That man is in awe of you. He thinks you’re the bravest person in the world.”
Zeb wasn’t sure what to say to that. He wasn’t brave. How many times had he let people manipulate and control him? He’d been doing it his entire life. The only reason Mason gave him a job as his personal assistant was because he was useless in the kitchen. If he wasn’t friends with Hunter, who was his top sous chef, and then subsequently connected to his best friends, he would never have gotten a job at Epicure.
