Page 33 of Saving You

Oz had been avoiding thinking about it at all since he’d left his parents’, and he’d been pretty successful at it too. But now, it was too late. He couldn’t let it go.

He held his breath as he gripped his cock and began to stroke, terrified of making a sound in case Ridge came in. His hand flew fast, his grip hard, not slick enough the way he liked, but he was already so fucking close a stiff breeze would have sent him over the edge.

He bit the inside of his cheek as his balls began to tighten, and the warmth that rushed up his spine made his vision white out. He did his best not to lock his knees as he let go, and he mouthed Ridge’s name—hoping to God he hadn’t actually said it aloud.

Come splattered against the wall, and he gasped at the aftershocks, his dick twitching against his palm. He stroked himself twice more as he began to soften, and then he released himself. He felt something strange—not quite shame, because he wasn’t ashamed of who he wanted or what he’d done. But it felt all wrong because he’d taken something from Ridge that didn’t belong to him.

Even if he was willing now, Oz had backed him into a corner, and that wasn’t how he wanted any relationship to go. Even a fake one.

Shoving his face in the water, he let the spray momentarily blind him before groping around for his shampoo and washing up. He gave himself two minutes to finish up, and then he got out and dried off, snagging a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from the top of his laundry basket that didn’t smell too funky.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he swished a bit of mouthwash—a sad, sorry little spark of hope flaring to life in his chest that he might need it. That Ridge might want to kiss him again for some wild reason.

He spit into the sink, then finally found the courage to head out and see if he was still alone.

Which he wasn’t. Ofcoursehe wasn’t.

Ridge was hovering in his bedroom doorway with a frown. He looked upset.

‘What’s wrong?’ Oz asked. Fuck, had he heard what Oz had been doing? The kiss was one thing, but jerking off to the memory of it was something else entirely.

‘I didn’t know your mom and sister were going to be here.’

Oz’s entire body went cold and all steamy thoughts of his shower fizzled to nothing. “What?” he demanded aloud.

Ridge jutted his chin toward the hallway. ‘They were in your living room when I walked in. Your mom screamed at me for letting myself in without knocking.’

Oz rolled his eyes. He was torn between relief that the issue was his mom and not what he’d been doing and anger over the fact that she thought it was okay to show up and let herself in after everything she’d done.

He marched to the nightstand and snagged his processors, but before he could put them on, Ridge caught his hand.

‘I know I’m not fast or totally fluent, but I can interpret for you if you want to leave them off. This is your house.’

Itwashis house, and normally he had a voice-off rule, but he was done playing games with her. He was going to make sure that his mother understood him. He would give her zero room to act like she didn’t know what he meant when he said that he was done with her bullshit.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, gently prying his arm out of Ridge’s grasp. ‘I want to speak to her.’

Ridge let him go, but he didn’t step back. His eyes searched Oz’s face, his own filled with concern. ‘I’ve got your back.’

If Oz had been a crying man, he might have burst into tears right then. How long had it been since anyone took his side? How long had it been since heletsomeone take his side?

He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

He took a minute to adjust to the return of sound after putting his processors back on. The first thing he noticed was the A/C. The second was Ridge’s breathing, which sounded heavier than usual.

He cleared his throat, then sighed. “Please know you can leave at any time.”

Ridge snorted and signed, ‘I brought Greek food, and I’m starving. I’m not going anywhere.’

Oz laughed softly and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He could feel Ridge at his back as he made his way into his living room, and there was no pretend about the expression on his face. He allowed his mom and sister to see every ounce of anger there.

Alora looked taken aback. His mom looked entirely unbothered.

“This isn’t funny anymore, Osric,” she said flatly. “Enough games. Send your friend home so we can have a real conversation.”

He laughed bitterly. “Well we agree one thing: none of this is funny at all. You’re a grown woman, and you don’t have a key. How did you get into my house?” He knew the answer, of course. She’d taken advantage of the offer he’d extended to Ridge.

“It was open.”

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