Blindspot (Daydream, Colorado Book 1) Page 4

  A shrill voice sounded from the front, calling out an obnoxious, “Yoo-hoo!” and Mason took that as his cue to leave.

  “Sorry, tell me later, okay?” he asked and scurried out of the kitchen, turning only to check in with Sage for the billionth time that day. “You sure you don’t want me to stay and help after my shift?”

  “Yes. I’m sure,” Sage said as he wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck.

  “I’ll help. And then we can have some fun,” Ben said with a loud kiss to Sage’s neck and yeah… okay. He didn’t really have to be here for the overture into the romantic evening they had planned.

  “Right then. I’ll be in the front finishing up and then getting out. Please keep all body parts inside clothing until I’m gone. Thank you,” he said as he walked towards the front again, gearing up to handle the final rush hour of the day before he was blissfully free.

  Sage and Ben wanted to have a dinner date at The Bakery and wanted the staff to leave early. As many times as he asked Sage if he was sure he didn’t want help, Mason was truly looking forward to the idea of going home early. Last night had drained him completely, and he’d spent the entire day thinking about someone he had managed to banish to the back of his mind for the most part.

  Usually, memories of Drew only came back when he was at his lowest. When his defenses were down, and he had no strength to fight him off. And he could recognize those moments. He knew what to expect, and he’d prepare for it. He’d have Sage with him, they’d have a fun night together, and for the most part he’d be able to keep thoughts of Drew contained to just a soft whisper beneath all the other voices around him.

  Last night, he wasn’t expecting him. He’d had a rough few days, but nothing that would make him feel horrible. Conversations with his friends and family lifted his spirits and then rediscovering the album Sage had made for him made him almost completely happy. Happier than he had been in ages. Drew came out of nowhere. Jumping from that old photo straight back into his life. Mason’s walls were down, so when he came, he came barreling in, leaving destruction and pain in his wake.

  He was grateful Sage was preoccupied with his upcoming date night to pester him too much about what was going on. He was even more grateful that they were having the busiest day in a while, so they had no time to stop and chat.

  The last swarm of people descended upon The Bakery, and within seconds, Mason was selling out the rest of their stock and dreaming of closing time.

  “Will that be all?” he asked a regular, and the man grunted a response like he always did. Very little multi-syllable words with that one. He handed the man his coffee, danish, and change and turned to serve the next customer.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “Do you have any blueberry muffins left?” the girl in front of him asked, and he checked their display to see they had a couple more. He was aiming to take those home with him, but…

  “We have a few left, yes,” he said reluctantly and she smiled happily.

  “Awesome, I’ll have three,” she decided, and he returned her smile because her order still left one for him.

  He bagged her muffins and rang them up. Just as the till made a little clicking sound before opening, he saw two blueberry muffins laying messily on the floor, crumbs spilled everywhere and the purple blueberry jam Sage used as his filling smeared over grey shoes.

  Sighing he hopped up on the counter and peeked down to find the muffin girl standing there, shuffling her grey shoed feet around. Great.

  Opening the bag, he added the last muffin they had to it.

  “That’ll be four dollars” he said, handing her the bag.

  “But… I asked for three muffins,” she said with a frown, and he had to restrain himself from glaring at her clumsy ass that cost him his muffin.

  “Yeah, but you’ll drop two and then you’ll only have one. Something tells me that’s not enough,” he said and she widened her eyes.

  “Oh.”

  “Yup… like I said, four dollars,”

  “Shouldn’t it be eight,” she asked again, and seriously, what was up with the third degree.

  “I’m not gonna charge you for the muffins you’ll use as a carpet, am I?" he asked and she beamed at him.

  “Thanks!” She pulled out some change and was just about to drop it into his open palm when the door opened up and the sign screeched, “Ben’s here!”.

  Frowning, he tried to look at the door, but his height, or lack thereof, made it impossible to see over the mass of people standing in front of the counter.

  Wasn’t Ben already in the bakery? Apparently, he was because just as the question popped into his head, Ben and Sage emerged from the back room, steps loud and the saloon-style door swinging madly behind them.

  “Something’s wrong with your sign, Sage,” Mason said over his shoulder, still craning his neck to see what was going on.

  “No, I think the sign is okay,” Sage said, and his voice sounded so strange Mason abandoned his mission to grow five inches in three seconds and turned to look at his best friend. He found him wide-eyed and concerned, Ben standing next to him wearing a very similar look, only his was laced with confusion.

  “Is there something wrong with you, then?” Mason asked with a frown. Sage closed his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly before looking at him again.

  “I think maybe you should head home early,” the baker said, and okay, something was really weird.

  “Yeah, we already agreed to that. What’s that have to do with your sign screaming for no reason?”

  “It’s… fuck… it’s not for no reason… Mase, please. I think you should go home.”

  “Sage…”

  “We could all use an explanation, babe,” Ben said, and Sage ran a frustrated hand through his hair. They’d picked up an audience now, people straining to hear what they were saying.

  “Do you know how my sign knows it’s Ben?” Sage asked and Mason tilted his head. He never really thought about it.

  “No, not really,” he said.

  “It’s responding to the fact that Ben has no magic,” Sage said and Mason nodded. That made sense. It was rather brilliant he had to admit.

  “Okay…” He wasn’t really sure where the conversation was going, and he noticed the crowd around them was getting restless and shifty. Sage had better get to the point before they had a mutiny caused by lack of baked goods on their hands.

  “So, if it’s picking up on the no magic, and Ben is here…” Sage trailed off and just like that…it clicked. Cold sweat broke all over his body and he felt frozen in place. He couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything. He could feel his fingers trembling, and he curled them into a fist by his thigh. He took a step back ready to bolt, but at the same time chained to the ground. Something inside him wouldn’t let him run. There was only one person in Daydream who had no magic. Only one person, apart from Ben, who'd be allowed to come to Daydream without it being announced beforehand to allow the town to prepare. Just one someone who belonged to Daydream even without magic. Someone Mason thought belonged to him too.

  "But... he's gone," he whispered. He kept his eyes clenched shut in hopes that not seeing it, not seeing him would make it go away.

  A sudden silence fell over the bakery.

  “Mason…” that voice. He hadn’t heard it in so long. He had managed to convince himself he had grown out of shivering whenever it wrapped itself around the letters of his name. He was so sure he had forgotten everything it used to make him feel, but the goosebumps on the back of his neck and the staccato rhythm his heart was hammering against his ribs told him he was wrong.

  Fuck he was back. Why was he back?

  Against everything inside him screaming not to do it, Mason opened his eyes and looked up, past the crowd that had suddenly parted, and found himself staring into those black eyes as if no time had passed since the last time it happened. His stomach lurched because they were the same lovely color of the darkest chocolate. But they were older now and
empty of the joy that used to make them shine. He wore a thick, styled beard that wasn’t there the first and only time Mason kissed him. He was an adult. And Mason had missed all the years that turned him into one. He was still painfully attractive.

  But he wasn’t his Drew anymore.

  “Drew…” he said, and damn, it hurt so much to say his name out loud again. No matter how many times he imagined the moment he’d see him again, nothing prepared him for how hard it would be. His breath came in short puffs, and he felt as if his body was struggling to reach out and touch him. But his voice didn’t shake and he stayed put, so he’d consider that a win. Maintaining eye contact would have been the final triumph, but he knew himself. He was never able to look at Drew for too long, for fear he’d see everything Mason felt for him shining through.

  “It’s… it’s good to see you…” he heard Drew say, and the gentle tremble in his voice broke Mason’s heart. Just like always, his first and only instinct was to protect Drew, to make sure he was happy and safe and… no.

  He wasn’t going to go back to that. They weren’t gonna play the catch-up game like they saw each other yesterday. Mason wouldn’t allow the rubble of his heart to finally be crushed into dust. Not this time. Not ever again.

  “What can I get you?” He went into business mode, voice steady and cold. He looked up to see Drew’s face falling, but he didn’t have it in him to take care of both of them. For the first time, when it came to Drew, Mason chose to protect himself.

  “There’s some apple pie left,” he forged ahead, already grasping for a clean plate.

  “You remember?” Drew asked and Mason sucked in a breath, freezing as he realized what he said. Apple pie used to be Drew’s favorite. And yes, he remembered. Everything about Drew was forever etched into his mind.

  Suddenly, all the strength he was feigning seeped out of him, and he let the plate slip from his fingers and onto the counter with a dissonant clatter. He needed to get away.

  “Sage…” his voice trembled finally. He turned to his friend, but Sage was already nodding his head yes.

  “Go.”

  He turned his back to Drew, each step heavier than lead as he walked away, hearing him calling out his name and Sage telling him to give him time.

  As if he didn’t know that no amount of time would make things right between them.

  He pushed out of the back door with his winter jacket and bag in hand, sparing no time to put them on. The freezing bite of the winter air crept under his clothes to sink its teeth in, but he would rather have that then what he left inside that bakery.

  He rounded the corner to where his car was parked outside and stopped dead in his tracks, snow and grit scraping under his boots. He let out a shaky breath that fogged the air in front of his nose.

  Once upon a time, when he was at his lowest, he had hoped for this very moment. Drew returning to Daydream, riding back into town like some kind of knight to sweep him off his feet. He didn’t think it would happen quite like this. Him working, looking every bit like the insomniac he was turning into, and Drew just walking in, perfect as ever, looking at him like he had never stopped.

  He was a few steps away from his car, keys already shaking in his hand, the chill air making him feel even more frozen than seeing Drew did. He just had to power through a few more steps, Drew hadn’t spotted him yet, and then…

  “Mason?”

  God fucking dammit.

  He kept his pace up, refusing to stop and acknowledge him as he made a wide path around the man. He didn’t owe Drew anything, he kept telling himself.

  “Please?” Drew almost whispered, and it pissed him off to no end. Why did he think he had any right to invade his space again like that? Why did he think he had any room to ask for anything from Mason when he had already given everything to him? He spun on his heel, glaring at the man he had once loved with all he had. The man he never stopped loving with all he has.

  “Please what, Drew? What do you want? Why are you here?”

  “Can we talk?” Drew asked, grimacing slightly before forging on. “I… I think we should talk.”

  It knocked Mason straight out of whatever fugue he’d fallen into, and he found himself laughing; the sound ringing loud between them. “Talk? You wanna talk,” he said flatly, closing the distance between them with every word. “Funny how you didn’t want to talk before you fucked off for ten years. What could you possibly want to say now?”

  Drew opened his mouth… and nothing. Mason refused to feel disappointed.

  He turned back around, willing his legs to stay strong and not buckle now. “Do us both a favor and stay gone,” he hissed back at him, unlocking his car and hurrying inside. He didn’t even bother to buckle his seatbelt before he was peeling away, eyes flicking only once to the figure left staring after him in the rearview mirror. He hated that the need to go back and erase that sadness from Drew’s face still lingered in the back of his mind.

  He slammed his hands against the wheel of the car as he felt his eyes start to burn with tears he forced himself not to shed. “Fuck. I hate him. I hate him.”

  If he said it enough times maybe his heart would start to believe it.

  He always thought leaving Mason was the hardest thing he had ever done. Looking at him warm, flushed from sleep and cuddled into a pile of blankets made him want to forget about the need he had to just go. Mason made him want to stay, and Drew knew he couldn’t allow himself to do that. So, he brushed a lock of that honey brown hair from Mason’s forehead and touched the tips of his fingers to Mason’s lips, praying to everything he didn’t even believe in to be allowed to remember what it felt like to kiss them. And then he turned and left forever.

  He truly believed nothing would ever hurt as much as that. Until he saw Mason spitting hate at him and turning to leave him standing there. It was a twisted reflection of what he had done, and if Mason felt even an ounce of the pain he was feeling just then, Drew thought he deserved all the hate he got.

  After Mason left, every last shred of composure he had drained from his body. He got back to his car on autopilot, drove without noticing anything around him and walked into the house like a robot.

  He heard his mother calling out for him, rushing up the stairs after him, but he spared her no mind as he slammed the door to his room shut in her face.

  “Drew…” he heard her calling out, as if through thick fog.

  “Go away!” he threw back as he lowered himself to sit on the floor against his bed, picking up the photo of Mason that had fallen from his fingers when he fell asleep last night.

  “We need to talk,” she said again, pleading and desperate.

  “No… you need to talk. I don’t. Not even a little bit. And I—” can’t.

  He heard a dull thud from outside and guessed she had leaned against his door.

  “Drew…” she tried again, and he’d had enough. He jumped up, clutching Mason’s photo in his frozen fingers, and strode to the door. He swung it open and his mother stumbled into the room.

  “I said no!” he shouted, done with them pushing for something he didn’t want to give. “I came to you when I needed you. I tried so hard to find a way to let you know what he—” a sharp pain stabbed through his head, and he was reminded, once again, there was more to this than him not wanting to speak. He clenched his eyes and took a deep breath against the pain. “You turned me away. I’m not gonna go and pick through the worst memories of my life just to quench your guilt. You can learn to live with it.”

  “But…” she started.

  “But nothing,” he held the door in his hand, gesturing for her to get out as he felt his strength and anger drain out with every word he said. He just wanted to be left alone.

  She sighed, eyes filled with tears that did nothing to make him feel any more welcoming towards her advances, and backed slowly to the hallway. She swept her eyes over him and caught sight of the photo still between his fingers, Mason’s face visible from where she was standing.


  “He looked for you too,” she said quietly, and he clenched his fist around the photo, crumpling the edges.

  “Well, I’d love it way more if he were the one to find me in the end,” he bit back, and she finally let the tears spill as she dashed out of the room, allowing him to shut the door and slide down it until he was sitting on the floor again. He tried to smooth out the photo so he could look at Mason’s face.

  He didn’t take much with him when he left. There was no room for memories when he escaped. But he tucked that one photo of Mason into his wallet, terrified Mason's face would fade in his mind. He was both happy and torn by the fact that he still seemed to look the same.

  Honey brown hair, completely straight and sticking up and to the side, angular face with a pointy nose, high cheekbones, and the fullest, pinkest lips. Baby blue eyes crinkled in the corners from laughter, and that one, slightly crooked tooth that called attention to the most amazing smile any human had ever had the grace to see. He was still the most beautiful thing Drew had seen, despite the years leaving a few traces on his face. And, he guessed, he left some too.

  God, for all that he had spent a decade dreaming of seeing him again, he was wholly unprepared for it. His voice was the same. It was the first thing Drew heard and it hit him hard. The lovely, clear sound of it wedging its way into his heart again. He was still stupidly small for a grown man, but Drew knew that his tiny body held a giant inside. Bold and smart and endlessly kind. He had been like that since the moment they met.

  Starting school as the only non-magical person in town was bound to suck no matter what anyone said to him. The principal and his parents all assured him there would be no difference in the way he was treated at school, by teachers or kids. But the fact they had to bring him in for that conversation spoke volumes of just how differently they saw him.

  He was escorted to his classroom, clutching his bright blue lunchbox in his hands, to find all the other students were already in their seats. His mom gave him a gentle push, and he stumbled into the room, looking around and catching the stares the other kids were giving him.