Chapter Nine

He was on his way to the gym for another session with BB when Tessler’s text message pinged on his phone.

“Wheels up. Next stop … paradise,” Tessler had typed.

“Am I allowed to ask where paradise is?” Mason sent back.

“Why? Are you planning on stalking me?”

“I’m not in any physical condition to properly stalk you,” Mason answered.

“Wow, I wasn’t aware there were requirements for the act of stalking.”

Mason laughed at Tessler’s message as he maneuvered out of the backseat of the vehicle from the car service. Tessler was always able to make him smile and it felt good. Easy. He couldn’t remember feeling this light in a long time.

“I need to shut off my phone for the flight, so I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and when I land, I’ll be in Key West,” Tessler typed.

“Have a safe flight,” Mason answered, but that time he didn’t get a response.

Must be nice, Mason thought while his brain got busy conjuring up tropical images of sandy beaches in Key West with swaying fronds of the palm trees overhead—and a half-naked Tessler on one of those beaches soaking up the sun. Or maybe he’d be half-naked and swinging in a hammock. Jesus! That was a fine fucking visual to have in his head.

Mason tugged open the door to the gym and stepped inside. Maybe by the time Tessler got home, Mason would be able to climb the stairs to get to his apartment above the coffee shop and not need to take the elevator. Tessler said he’d be gone several weeks. That might be long enough for Mason to get his shit together and possibly surprise him, wouldn’t it? He sure as hell hoped so, but if nothing else, he at least had a goal in mind to achieve. He needed to get his body to a point where he could take him out and not feel as though Tessler was his caregiver instead of his date. In the past, Mason had done well making personal challenges. If he set his mind on something, he could make it happen. He could—and he would, do it again for Tessler. More importantly, he’d do it for himself.

Mason saw BB and grinned. The challenge clock was now ticking, and Mason would not allow himself to fail. He stepped into the private workout room behind BB and prepared to get started. Today was day one. By the time Tessler came home from his vacation, he wanted him to be shocked and in awe of how good Mason looked and moved. He was eager to be seen as the man he was before the fire—the man he was under all the layers of painful memories and scar tissue.

Half an hour into their workout, BB started to chuckle at Mason. “You seem like a man on a mission today, Mason.”

“I guess you could say that,” he agreed. “It feels like it’s time I take this to the next level, that’s all. I’m ready to move forward from this nightmare.”

BB rubbed out the kinks in Mason’s shoulders, then instructed him to do another rep of curls with the weights. “I’ll go along with that as long as you don’t overdo it,” BB said. “You’re making good progress, so I see no reason to rush the schedule we have outlined and risk further injury.”

Mason understood that, but this was his life they were talking about, and he was tired of sitting on the sidelines while everyone else was out living theirs. He wanted a piece of that same pie. He wasn’t expecting someone to hand it all to him, so it was never a question about putting in the work. He knew enough to realize that if you dreamed big, you better be prepared to work your ass off to achieve it. Mason was no stranger to hard work and working past the point of fatigue. The Marines taught him those tough lessons; his time spent in Afghanistan gave him daily opportunities to test what he’d learned. It was time to apply it all again and live. Take life by the fucking balls and taste every goddamned second of the day.

And Jesus, I’d like to taste Tessler again, too. Taste his mouth, his skin, and maybe even his come, Mason thought. He almost dropped the weight he held in his hand from the visual of Tessler that popped into his head.

“Easy there, big boy,” BB instructed. He took the weight from Mason’s hand and set it back on the rack beside the bench where he was seated.

BB offered a hand to Mason to help him up off the bench, but he refused it and pushed to his feet on his own. They walked over to the treadmill, and Mason did fifteen minutes before they ended their session with a light massage. He was so tired by this point, he almost fell asleep on BB’s table. The ride home in the backseat of the car service vehicle finally took its toll though, and Mason drifted off to sleep with a contented smile on his face. It felt good to have put in the workout he had today. He could feel it in every muscle in his body, and a nice nap was not only much needed, but definitely earned.

He hoped after he got home and showered, he might get a phone call from Tessler, but that didn’t happen. He made it past dinner time and had watched an entire baseball game without any word from Tessler. It was right around eleven o’clock when Mason finally called it a night. He had another busy day ahead of him tomorrow, starting with an appointment with his therapist in the morning, followed by a few hours spent in the office of Ventura Security.

This thing with Tessler couldn’t be forced, which meant Mason wasn’t going to call him. The last thing he wanted to do was bother the guy when he was trying to relax. When Tessler was ready to talk, he’d reach out to Mason. In the meantime, Mason would have to keep working to get himself stronger and do his best not to waste his time wondering about what Tessler might be up to on his vacation.

Mason arrived a little early for his ten o’clock appointment with his therapist. For the first time, he felt real excitement to tell her about the progress he was making with his recovery, both physically and mentally. The smile she offered him made him feel good about himself, which was something he didn’t realize how much he needed until then. The validation gave him pride in knowing he was on the right track.

“So, no new episodes of anxiety?” his therapist, Stacy, questioned Mason.

“I’m still having the nightmares, but I haven’t had a panic attack since that one at the gym,” he answered her.

“Have the dreams changed in any way since you started coming here, or are you having the same images and feelings associated with them?” she asked.

Mason nodded and ran a hand over his head. “Not much has changed with them. They always start out with me in a panic because I’m trapped with no escape and the choking smell of smoke. That’s followed by intense heat and a deafening roar in my ears from a fire that doesn’t exist. I scream out for help, but no one can hear me, and that’s when I usually wake up sweating my ass off in bed. I’ve been doing the breathing you showed me, and I’ve been able to calm myself back down enough to fall back to sleep both times. Sometimes, I wake up gasping for air, and I swear I can smell smoke in my apartment.”

“What do you do when that happens?” she asked.

“I try and convince myself there is no smoke, but usually I have to get out of bed and search the apartment before I can fall back asleep.”

“It’s okay to do that, Mason,” she said.

“Makes me feel like I’m crazy sometimes,” he replied, “but the scent is so strong that it feels very real to me.”

“The memory of that night is still very vivid in your mind, Mason. Have you tried the meditation we discussed last week?”

“Not yet, but I will,” he confirmed.

“Good. I really think that will help you clear your head once the images from the fire take hold,” she said, then changed her position in her seat a bit. “Anything new going on with the man you met?” the therapist asked Mason.

A blush crept up Mason’s neck and over his cheeks at the mention of Tessler. Did he dare tell her what happened? “He’s away on vacation for a few weeks,” Mason decided to say.

“Are you seeing him socially?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Mason answered.

“Then, what would you call it?”

Mason’s face felt downright hot, like it might burst into flames, and when did his shirt collar become so impossibly tight. His fingers pulled at the fabric to stretch it as he adjusted his position on the couch. “I … ah … we … kissed,” he said quietly.

He watched her eyebrows lift high on her forehead. “You kissed him?”

“Well, we kind of kissed each other,” he said and couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face.

“So, you really like this man,” she commented with her eyebrows lifted.

Mason nodded and clasped his hands in his lap. He thought about his words carefully before he said, “He’s very … interesting.”

“You seemed surprised to be admitting that,” she commented.

“I am, because it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about anyone,” he said. “It feels good. I needed something like this to kickstart myself to get back in the game.”

“What game are you referring to? Do you mean dating?”

“I’m referring to life,” Mason offered. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt engaged in living. I realized after I came home from Afghanistan this last time that I was only going through the motions of life, not fully investing myself, or allowing myself to feel anything at all. Even working with the security team only did so much to help with that. Afterwards came the fire, and since then … I’ve been on auto pilot. My focus became just getting through another day of pain.”

“And then you met Tessler,” she said with a soft smile.

“Tessler, yes, and now I feel like I have more of a purpose,” Mason elaborated and allowed the sappy grin to take hold of his face. “I’m not saying we’re soul mates destined to get married, or some shit like that. I’m simply saying that now I can see things with a little more … clarity.”

“That sounds wonderful, Mason,” she all but cooed.

“He’s away now, but we’re supposed to get together when he comes back,” he explained.

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he answered.

“You don’t sound all that confident about the date, Mason.”

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m hoping it’s not just a “one and done” kind of a thing,” Mason admitted. “I think I’d like more than a hook-up with him.”

“I’m hearing surprise in your voice,” she stated.

“Yes, I am surprised by that thought because I’ve only ever been interested in a quick fling,” he admitted. “What has worked best for me in the past are arrangements without strings attached and aren’t messy when it ends.”

“You’ve never had a relationship with a man, or do you mean you’ve never had a relationship in general?” she asked.

“I’ve been with women who I’ve seen socially for a few months at a time, but there’s never been too many feelings involved—at least on my part,” Mason elaborated. “The men I’ve been with were all quick hook-ups. Nothing more than a physical release.”

“But you feel Tessler is different because emotions are involved?” she questioned.

“It’s too early to tell that yet, but I feel different with him. Not sure why,” he said and shrugged. “With him it just feels like it’s more, you know. We’re very different people, but there is an undeniable connection there that makes me want to see where it goes.”

“When you say it feels like more, what do you mean?”

Mason pondered his answer for a moment, then said, “More than just the physical.” A small grin formed on his face. “Can I talk bluntly here?”

“Of course, Mason. This is your safe place to say whatever you want and however you feel like saying it.”

Mason nodded and then leaned forward a bit to rest his elbows on his thighs. “In the past, it’s only been about getting myself off and whoever else is with me, but Tessler makes me want more than that. I find myself being happy just talking with him—even if it’s nothing more than in a text message. He makes me laugh, and he seems cool about my leg, although I don’t know how he’ll feel after he actually sees it for real. Then again, maybe things won’t get that far, and I’m worrying about nothing.”

“You’re concerned with how Tessler might react if he sees your body?” she asked.

“Yeah, naked,” Mason added. “I’m covered in scars now, and the skin grafts are still really pink from healing and will be for quite a while. I also have areas of skin that are hyper-sensitive and hurt when touched. It all makes me feel like a freak show and that pisses me off. I have this really hot, younger guy interested in me, and all I have to offer him is a road map of scars”

“I certainly don’t see you as a freak show,” she replied, “and I sincerely doubt Tessler does, either.”

“You don’t have to look at this mess every damn day in the mirror,” he said with gruffness.

“You’re a very attractive man,” she countered. “If there’s truly a connection between you two, then I’m sure Tessler will be able to see beyond any physical imperfections. I’m sure there are things he’s self-conscious about. None of us are perfect and that’s what makes us all beautiful in our own ways.”

“You totally sound like a shrink right now,” Mason said with an awkward chuckle.

“What I said is true.” She smiled warmly and added, “We’re all imperfect creatures. It’s what makes us human.”

Mason shook his head. “This is way more than your average scars,” he said. “It’s bumpy and ugly areas of red skin that more often than not hurts like hell even if something lightly rubs against it, like a shirt—never mind touching or scratching it.” His fingers circled his forearm before he eased up the fabric of his lightweight cotton shirt and turned his arm over to reveal a patch of the newly healing skin. He extended his arm for his therapist to see, then said, “This is minor damage compared to what my leg and hip look like.”

Her eyes scanned the marred skin on Mason’s arm. “Does that area hurt like you described?” she asked.

“Not this particular spot, but I have to keep all of it covered up whenever I’m outdoors, which is why I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt even though it’s hot outside,” he explained. “I’m not supposed to expose the skin to any sun for quite a while.”

“Mason, part of the reason I was referred to you by your doctors for therapy was because I’ve recovered from burns the same as you are now,” she stated.

The sudden admission surprised him, and he had to take a minute to absorb what she’d said. His eyes canvassed her body sitting in her chair opposite him on the couch. She wore a long-sleeved cream colored blouse with navy slacks and one leg was draped over the top of the other. “You don’t have any visible scars,” he commented after several silent seconds.

“For the most part, neither do you,” she countered.

“Point taken,” he replied. His eyes met hers again. “How bad?”

“Second and third degree burns on my back and the backs of my legs,” she answered. “Recovery took a while, but I’m doing good now—and you will too, soon enough. What I can tell you with complete certainty is healing from the burns is one thing, but restoring your body image is going to take work, Mason. I sometimes think repairing the body image in a man is worse than it is for a woman since men tend to place so much importance on how manly their appearance is. Anything that they feel diminishes their male ego can be devastating.”

“People, in general, tend to judge others on their outside appearance,” Mason said quietly. “It’s human nature.”

“Do you feel Tessler is like that?” she asked. “Is that what you’re worried about, that he’ll judge you on how you look?”

Mason shook his head. “I’d like to think Tessler is a better man than that, but I’d be lying if I said I’d never looked at someone myself who was disfigured in some way and didn’t feel sorry for them. I don’t want people to look at me like that. I don’t want people to treat me differently, and I sure as fuck don’t want their pity.”

Mason exhaled so loudly it sounded like a growl.

“What’s going through your head right now, Mason?” she asked.

He took several deep breaths to try and calm himself, but it didn’t do much good. He was still tense. “I’m fucking angry that I’m stuck in this body for the rest of my life, and no amount of surgeries will ever fully remove the damage done to my skin. It’s a struggle to imagine anyone ever finding me ...”

“Finding you … attractive?”

Jesus, Mason felt the stinging at his eyes. He dropped his gaze to his lap before tears started to spill. This fucking sucked. He’d never lacked confidence in anything he did, or especially in himself, and now, everything seemed uncertain. He couldn’t even depend on his own body to work as it once did and wasn’t sure it ever would again. He wasn’t the same man as he was before the fire. How could he be? God knows, he certainly didn’t look the same.

He pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Mason, look at me,” she urged, and then waited for his eyes to lift and settle on her again. “We’re going to work on all of this, okay? One step at a time though. You’re making progress physically, and the rest is all going to gradually fall into place as your confidence comes back.”

Mason stood up from his spot on the couch, and the therapist followed him to the door of her office. “Put your trust in me,” she said and gently patted him on the back, “and in a couple of months, you’re going to feel like a brand new man.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” he said.

She smiled at him and offered a slight wave. “I’ll see you next week, same time.”