He was lost in another negative thought when he heard light footsteps coming down the hall toward him. “Hey, sleepyhead. I thought you—” Mason started before Jesse turned the corner and made him forget the last half of his sentence.
“Hey.” Jesse smiled brightly at him. “I guess I was still pretty tired.”
“I can imagine.” Mason swallowed thickly.
Jesse advanced toward him as if he was unsure, and Mason hoped to erase any doubt he had when he set his stirring spoon to the side and opened his arms. Their embrace was short but tender and affectionate. Goddamn, he smells good. Jesse had on black skinny jeans that molded to his long, toned legs. Legs that’d been wrapped around Mason’s back. His burgundy V-neck sweater was thick and expensive-looking, and not at all what he’d imagine Jesse would wear, but it did complement his ivory complexion. And Mason was not minding this mature look one bit.
Jesse’s arms slid from around Mason’s neck until his warm palms rested on his chest. Mason refused to let Jesse go, until he’d looked his fill. He stroked his hand over Jesse’s hair that he’d styled away from his face with some kind of good-smelling gel. The deep wheat-colored waves were so soft to touch, and Mason sifted his fingers through the long strands and watched them fall right back into place.
“Jesus,” Mason whispered. His eyes traveled hungrily from Jesse’s sexy bare feet to the masculine silver cross resting against the tip of his sternum. He had to shake his head to understand what he was seeing. How could the man he pulled from under the interstate overpass last night be the same strong, tall man before him now? Confident and beautiful.
“I’m sorry, I’m staring.” Mason probably looked like a deer caught in headlights, but he was trying to understand how Jesse had unveiled another level of gorgeousness. And the way Jesse blushed and cast his pretty eyes down to Mason’s chest told him that Jesse didn’t even know how fine he was.
“I don’t mind.” Jesse’s smile fell slowly. “You stared at me like that even when I was caked under days of dirt and filth.”
“It takes a lot more than just looks for me,” Mason said honestly.
“Me too,” Jesse added.
“Dinner is almost ready.” Mason nodded his head toward the pot of noodles. “You like lo mein?”
“I do.” Jesse smiled. And Mason was starting to believe he’d do anything to keep that smile there for a long time.
Jesse
They ate together on the high-top stools at the breakfast bar. Mason’s noodles were amazing, and every time Jesse would compliment something, Mason was quick to assure him he only knew how to cook that and steaks. Nothing more. He was learning that Mason was extremely intelligent—not only because of the political science master’s degree from the University of Georgia on the wall in his bedroom—but he didn’t flaunt it. He was down-to-earth and easy to talk to. Mason also had a corny sense of humor that made Jesse roll his eyes and chuckle more than busting a gut. But the sexiest part of Ellis Mason was no doubt his heart. And Jesse didn’t have to be in love with the man to know that it was one of twenty-four-karat gold. Maybe if Jesse would man up and do the right thing by helping the police with their drug crisis—and it indeed was a big fucking crisis—he might be worthy of a man like that.
Once they were finished, Mason left Jesse sitting at the bar drinking his coffee while he cleaned up the dishes. With his back turned at the sink, Mason said, “It seems as if there’s something on your mind.”
Jesse smirked. “You’re intuitive as hell.”
“That’s a compliment to a cop, y’know.”
Jesse sighed as he sat there with both of his hands wrapped around the hot mug. He frowned when he thought of the nights he’d been so cold he was afraid he’d never regain the sensation in his hands again. It was crazy the things he’d taken for granted before this experience changed him forever.
“I do have something I need to talk to you about,” Jesse started.
“Sure.” Mason dried his hands on a dish towel, then slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me.”
Mason had a way of not making Jesse feel pressured and that whatever he said he could trust him with the information. Mason cut the lights in the kitchen, and they took their drinks to the living room. There was a large television in front of the sectional, with a gaming console and some stereo equipment on the stand, but Mason didn’t bother with any of that. He started a fire and turned on a dim lamp that sat on one of the end tables. Once he saw that he had Mason’s full attention, Jesse went into the entire story of how he’d really gotten stuck on the streets and become homeless.