19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Mason

Cold porcelain pressed against my hands as I continued to spew yellow bile into the toilet. Each time I thought I was done, the queasy feeling would return with a vengeance. Blood ran from my nose, sweat dripped from my forehead—I was a fucking mess. I should have known falling asleep with Cameron was a bad idea, but at least I didn’t wake up beside him.

Thump, thump, thump...

My hand shook violently as I reached out and flushed the toilet. Once the evidence was gone, I shut the lid and rested my cheek against it as I caught my breath. There was no use in getting up if I was just going to vomit again, so I closed my eyes, willing the nausea to subside.

Thump, thump, thump...

What was that noise? I perked my ears, listening through the faint rustling of leaves outside. Maybe there was a bunny nearby?

The thumping picked up, growing louder with every beat. What the fuck was it?

As the mysterious noise drew nearer to the bathroom door, I realized: Someone was home.

A cold sweat formed on my brow. I tried to get up, but my knees were too weak.“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! ”

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

A knock came at the door.

“Just a second!” My voice was hoarse.

“... Are you decent?”

My heart stopped when I heard Lucian’s voice. He was probably pissed that I was vomiting all over his bathroom, and now he had come to scream at me. This was the worst. I was the worst.

“ Mason .“ He growled my name like a warning. “Answer the damn question.”

“I’m naked!” I groaned, though Cameron’s button-down was still very much on my body. I would definitely have to wash it before giving it back.

My stomach flipped as my mind raced—I was going to throw up again. The doorknob jiggled as I lifted the toilet lid once more.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re naked, open the damn door.”

“Lucian—” My sentence was cut off, replaced with more retching.

“Mason!” he barked, shaking the door harder.

My head spun as I wiped my mouth again before leaning against the wall behind me. There was no way I could unlock that door even if I wanted to.

All of a sudden, the door stopped rattling, and I wondered if Lucian had decided to save his anger for a later date. As I breathed a sigh of relief, the door swung open and Lucian appeared, bobby pin in hand.

He was dressed in a white button-down that probably used to fit, but was now about a size too big. The black-cuffed sleeves were rolled up, showcasing some of his tattoos. Heavy ink wrapped around his forearms like vines, constricting him from elbow to wrist. One small tendril curled around the back of his hand—I bet that one hurt like a bitch. His hair was pulled back in a low bun, with one coiled strand hanging in his face.

My pulse quickened as he approached with heavy, menacing steps. I braced myself, preparing to be the target of his anger. His stormy eyes bore into mine as he knelt just inches away from me.

I was in trouble. He was going to scream at me for disrupting him. This was disgusting. I was so fucking disgusting .

My bottom lip quivered as I took in the stern look on his face. I was expecting the worst.

But... the worst never came.

Lucian’s expression softened as he reached up to the sink and grabbed a toothbrush before loading it with green toothpaste.

“Brush.”

I stared at the extended toothbrush like it was a completely foreign object. Was this a vicious attempt at mocking me, or was Lucian genuinely being... kind?

Either way, I was desperate to wash the bitter taste of bile from my mouth, so I cautiously accepted his offer.

“So, you’re not like, making yourself throw up, right?” He shifted his weight, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap.

“It’s morning sickness.” I spit a mouthful of minty foam into the toilet, then flushed away the entire contents of my stomach.

His brow furrowed. He gently snatched the toothbrush back from my hand and tossed it into the sink.

“What?” I asked.

Lucian’s gaze flicked down to my stomach before he refocused on me.

“You’re wearing my boyfriend’s shirt,” he stated.

I forced a smirk. “I’m wearing my baby daddy’s shirt.”

Lucian’s gaze darted down to my stomach once more. It was then that I realized what he was looking at. Even though Cameron’s shirt was much too large for me, the way I sat caused the denim-like fabric to lay against me rather than hang from me. I wasn’t intentionally hiding her like I normally did.

It was amazing what clothing choices and bad posture could do for hiding a baby belly.

“Do you want to feel the baby move?” I joked, hoping to ease the tension.

His eyes widened as he looked at me and then back at my stomach.

“... Actually, I do.”

I was stunned for a moment... but it made sense. Lucian always loved kids. He used to talk about wanting them all the time when we were teenagers. And obviously, he had two of his own now. I just thought... he seemed grossed out when he felt Lavender kick. Also, I was pretty sure he hated me.

He extended his hand, and all I could do was stare. It was more weathered than I remembered. The veins on the top of Lucian’s hand twitched as he moved his fingers. His nails were short and mostly coated with chipped black polish.

“I need you to guide me; I don’t know where she is,” he explained.

I hesitated a moment longer before looking back at him. “She’s not moving right now.”

“That’s fine.” He yawned, leaning against the wall behind him. “Unless you don’t want me to touch you, that is.”

There was an undeniable shift between us as my heart quickened.

“Don’t be silly. Why would I not want you to touch me?”

Other than Sebastian, Lucian was the only person who had felt her kick. No one else seemed to want to. Lucian’s interest in me was…. sweet, I guess.

“So, if you don’t mind, I’m allowed to touch your belly wherever?”

“You’re making this weird,” I complained.

“Consent is consent, Kitten. It doesn’t matter if it’s sex, touching, or even conversation. If you’re not comfortable, I’m not doing it.”

I blinked in response. Where was Lucian’s anger? Why was he being so understanding?

“You can touch me.” I whispered.

His lips parted into a half smile, and he leaned forward before resting his palm on the apex of my abdomen. The warmth in his hand seeped through Cameron’s thick button-down. My heart felt light.

We sat silently for a beat as he moved his thumb back and forth.

“You know, this is the part where you hold my hand,” he teased.

I wanted to argue with Lucian, tell him that’s not how this worked, but another wave of nausea sent me hurling toward the toilet bowl.

Instead of yelling, Lucian held back my hair and patted my back.

“Jesus Christ, do you need to go to the hospital?”

I shook my head. “As soon as I get something in my stomach, I’ll be fine.”

The problem was leaving the bathroom to go get that something.

“Well, I’m not tethered to the toilet like you are. What do you want?”

“Excuse me?” I laughed.

“You heard me… If you don’t tell me what you want, I’m giving you sour candy. Ashley used to say it helped with her morning sickness.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Who’s Ashley?”

“Oh shit, you weren’t there for her.” He rubbed his temples, clearly frustrated at himself for bringing her up. I knew Lucian’s sense of time was probably scrambled due to drugs, but there was something sweet about it. Did he really think of me often enough to forget how long I’d been gone?

“She’s the twins’ deadbeat mom,” he explained. “We met in Portland when she came to a shop I was working at. I gave her a tattoo; she gave me her number.”

“Is it hard not having their biological mom in the picture?”

Of course I was worried about Lucian’s emotional well-being, but concern over my own situation tugged at the back of my mind. I knew Seb would be a great father to Lavender, but after actually spending time with Cameron, I was starting to get worried. It would’ve been one thing if I never got to know him; it was another thing entirely to watch him willingly walk away.

“Honestly? Yeah, it is. I’m honest with my kids—they call Sophia mommy, but they know she’s not their mommy. “Lucian sighed. “They’re used to it now, though.”

A shard of guilt lodged itself between my ribs and heart. Logically, I knew I had nothing to do with Ashley abandoning her kids. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I could’ve prevented this whole situation if I had never left.

“So, what do you want to eat?” he asked again.

I cleared my throat, shaking off the bad feelings.

“Crackers and tea would be great, thank you…”

Lucian braced himself on the sink and pulled himself to his feet. I tried and failed not to look at his ass as he brushed the dust off the back of his jeans.

“... But why are you doing this for me?”

Lucian shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with the question.

“Let’s just say…”

He turned his head to look at me, then bit his lower lip.

“Actually, I don’t owe you an answer for anything.”

It took forty-five minutes and two cups of tea for my stomach to settle fully. Once it did, Lucian not only demanded that I eat breakfast, but he cooked for me, too. We shared the meal in silence before I went upstairs to get ready for the day.

I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, threw on enough makeup to hide my sickly pallor, and squeezed into one of my few pairs of athletic leggings that still fit. Early on in my pregnancy I considered buying maternity clothes, but my dad was quick to remind me that bigger clothes would encourage me to let myself go. He was right, and I was glad to have him looking out for me.

Still, it felt like I was one wrong move away from busting out of my clothes. I’d just have to work harder to get back on track with my diet. Seb went to the gym a lot; maybe when he got back, I could start going with him.

I snapped a quick photo of myself in the mirror before sending it to Seb. After that, I sent him a GIF of a whale, challenging him to spot the difference.

Less than a minute later, he sent me a photo of the outline of his cock through his slacks.

Aquatic mammals don’t make me hard during meetings .

I should have taken that as a compliment, but as usual, he neglected to address the one thing I was actually worried about. Seb would always find me attractive, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t huge.

I didn’t want to distract my boyfriend more than I already had, so I wandered back downstairs, hoping to swipe another book from Sophia. But as I hopped off the bottom step, a complex guitar riff stole my attention.

My heart raced at the idea of an instrument, even one I didn’t get to touch. I loved music: the sound of live instruments, the heartfelt lyrics, and the way a good harmony could strike your soul. The rapidly shifting chords drew me like a moth to a flame—and suddenly, I found myself in Lucian’s doorway.

I peered through the cracked door and saw him sitting on a piano bench with a rosewood guitar in hand. Now that I was nearby, I noticed something odd about the sound. Electing to ignore it for the time being, I let my eyes wander around his room. It felt different from the rest of the house. The walls were a deep forest green, and the furniture was mostly dark wood. I slid closer to the slight opening, hoping to catch a better glimpse into Lucian’s sanctuary. Instead, I misjudged the door’s ability to hold my weight and stumbled gracelessly into the room.

I caught myself on the doorknob with a slightly panicked scream. Once I steadied myself, I noticed Lucian was staring at me. Of course he was, I was acting like an absolute buffoon.

“You good?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

I nodded, catching my breath as the panicked feeling left my system. Lucian put his guitar down and stood, bridging the gap between us.

“I heard you playing.” I breathed, placing a hand on my stomach.

“Okay… and?”

I swallowed hard and did my best to remember the sound. Something had definitely been off about it.

“I think your guitar is out of tune,” I blurted.

“Really now?” It wasn’t hard to see the skepticism in his eyes.

It would have been easy for me to hide from the scrutiny of his gaze, to say I was wrong and apologize. But my pride wouldn’t let me. There wasn’t a lot in this world I was confident in, but music was my domain.

“I can fix it,” I offered, pointing to the recently abandoned instrument.

Lucian muttered something under his breath, grabbed the guitar, and gestured for me to sit next to him on the piano bench. Instead, I sat on his bed. It felt less intimate, somehow. Once again, I let my gaze drift around the space.

His room was decorated with old band posters and photos of his kids, the latter of which made me smile. But the real thrill came from seeing the wall of instruments above his piano. He had another guitar, a tambourine, two pairs of intricately decorated maracas, all sorts of cool stuff—and in the center, a beautiful violin that had me practically buzzing.

Especially because I recognized it.

“Knock yourself out,” Lucian challenged, thrusting his guitar into my hands.

I nodded and settled the instrument into place. My belly pressed against the back of the guitar as I gave all the strings a single strum. There was definitely something off, but I couldn’t figure out what.

Slowly, I plucked the strings one by one. The vibrations echoed in the wooden body, causing a smile to erupt on my face. For the millionth time in Hartwood, I squeaked. But this time, I wasn’t nervous; I was excited. I strummed once again, fighting the urge to clap my hands at the familiar sensation.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I was helping Lucian, not stealing his guitar. I slowly plucked each string, carefully listening for the one that was distorting the sound... Ah, there it was. His G sting had been tuned slightly too flat to be correct. I twisted the corresponding peg before testing the string again. Once it was fixed, I passed it back.

Lucian accepted it before fingering the frets; he didn’t play any chords, just fondled the instrument.

“You can try it… it’s better,” I promised, suddenly craving his approval.

“No, I know it is.” Lucian rubbed his jaw, scratching at the threat of stubble on his chin. “You always used to tune my instruments for me.”

He remembered something like that after all these years? I covered my mouth to prevent him from seeing my beaming smile.

Even after admitting I had tuned it correctly, he didn’t play the guitar. Instead, he stood, placing it on the wall mount.

“I have to get to work,” he explained.

My heart fell a little, but I tried to keep my disappointment to myself. He didn’t owe it to me to play his guitar. Lucian didn’t owe me anything ; it was better that way.

“Have a good day,” I mumbled as I balled my hands, grabbing his emerald duvet in tight handfuls before releasing it.

I repeated this process until I noticed Lucian staring at me. He was probably waiting for me to leave. It would be weird to just leave me in his room.

So, I forced myself off his bed and gave him an awkward wave as I slunk toward the door.

“Mason.”

The way my name sounded in his voice caused chills to run down my spine, anchoring me in my place. I looked over my shoulder and noticed his anxious posture, a hand woven into the roots of his hair.

“I, uh, I broke my glasses a week ago, and I have to wait for the optometrist to order a new pair. Is there any chance you’d be able to drive me to work?”