Page 54 of Saving You

Ridge shook his head. “Can you wait here for a second?”

Oz frowned, totally confused. “Yeah, no problem.”

Ridge said nothing else before jumping out of the car and jogging toward his front door. In spite of the raging chaos in his chest, he couldn’t help but enjoy the view of Ridge’s bouncing, bubbly ass. He wasn’t anywhere near able to get hard right then, but it still left a small flicker of want in his chest.

When he disappeared through the door, however, Oz’s mood crashed. He sat back with a heavy thud and covered his face with both hands, letting out a shaking groan. God, he felt like such a messy waste of space. He knew it was his trauma talking—the depression that was starting to creep around the edges of the comfortable life he’d built.

But it was hard to shut those voices up.

They’d been quiet for so long, too. They got a little louder every time he had to see his family, but he’d kept himself sobusy those moments had been few and far between. But he was starting to wonder if it was all an illusion. At some point, he’d have to let himself be still. He couldn’t keep going like this.

He was going to crack if he tried, and that wasn’t how he wanted to live his life. He wanted something normal, damn it. Something easier than this and happier. He wanted some real fucking peace. Not just the idea of it and not just fleeting moments.

He jolted at the sound of the door opening and dropped his hands, looking over at Ridge, who was watching him with a concerned expression. He flushed. He was getting a little tired of needing a rescue and giving people an easy reason to pity him.

‘Can I come over to your place?’

Oz blinked at him. ‘My place?’ he repeated.

Ridge nodded. ‘Yeah. For the night.’

Shock rushed through Oz so profoundly he didn’t know what to do. His hands felt frozen in midair, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Was Ridge asking what Oz thought he was asking?

After a beat, Ridge slapped himself in the forehead. “Not for sex,” he said aloud. “For company.”

Oz slowly thawed. “Oh.” He licked his lips, then raised his hands. ‘Do you not want to be around Grady?’

Ridge laughed. ‘I like Grady, but I’d rather be with you. He needs some space right now anyway, and Ina won’t wake up until tomorrow morning. He was already going to watch her, and he said he’d like the distraction of taking care of a toddler, so…’ He trailed off with a shrug.

Oz glanced behind them at his car. He had work in the morning, but if they left early enough, they could swing by, and he could get it. Yes, he did need to learn how to exist in the quiet, still moments without someone to distract him, but maybe tonight wasn’t the night to start.

And if Ridgedidwant to fool around, Oz wasn’t totally opposed to the idea.

“Yes,” he finally said.

Ridge looked thrilled, which was…nice. And unexpected. “Great. What time do you need to get to the school tomorrow?”

“Seven. If we leave at six thirty, it’ll be enough time for me to get my car,” Oz told him as he reached for the seat belt.

Ridge nodded, but instead of starting the car, he leaned over and put a careful hand to Oz’s jaw. “One more kiss? For the road?”

Oz indulged both Ridge and himself. The kiss was soft, sweet, and there was a power behind it to shut out all those voices—his own and the angry echo of his family’s words and accusations. He lingered as long as Ridge would allow and then sat back with a sigh when it broke and Ridge turned to the road.

The moment was nice. It was full of the softness he’d been craving, and he wondered if there was any hope—any at all—that he’d get to keep something like this in the future.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RIDGE

Although Ridge hadsome idea of what he wanted to do with Oz, he felt a little off-kilter and entirely out of his depth when they got to his place. Oz opened the door, and Ridge saw evidence of everything Oz had abandoned when he ran over to speak with Grady.

There was a burrito wrapper on the counter, the microwave was open, and there was a half-poured drink beside the fridge.

He couldn’t help but wonder how often Oz dropped anything and everything he was doing to accommodate other people. It was definitely often enough to show in the tension he carried. His jaw was always tight, and his shoulders were always hunched.

Even when he took off his processors and settled into his more comfortable world without sound, he still carried a heaviness to his body that Ridge had only seen in people with the weight of their world on their shoulders. He knew that sensation a little too well. He’d worked through a lot of his with a very good family therapist, but the sense memory of being that on edge all the time would never leave him.

Which, of course, gave him his first idea.

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