Page 63 of Sapphire Spring

Sober sex.He’d heard the term used at meetings,and the truth was,he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sexsober.

“Stay here,” Mason said.

“The shower?”

“My house. Until I’m back. It’ll be about an hour.”

“An hour. Wow. All right. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I forgot I made a promise to somebody.”

Himself.The promise he’d made was to himself. Themeeting would survive without cookies. The commitment was so that Mason had anobligation to be in the presence of people who could help him survive his worstimpulses.

“Seriously. Stay here. I’ll come back and we’ll grill.”

There was hesitation in Naser’s eyes, and his next thoughtcame to him so fully formed, it was impossible to ignore.He’s going toleave. This was too sudden and new and weird, and the minute he has some timealone to think about it, he’s out the door and never coming back.Masonhad to explain more fully, lay even more of his cards on the table. But then heremembered what the secondAstood for—anonymous. Meaning you didn’tblab about meetings to people who didn’t go to meetings.

It looked like Naser was going to rinse the shampoo out ofhis hair, but instead his hands traveled to the back of his neck and stayedthere, as if he’d been paralyzed by thoughts.

Doubts. Not thoughts. Doubts.

“You sure you don’t want to do it another night?” Naserasked.

“I want you to stay.” At the intensity in Mason’s voice,Naser’s eyes shot to his. “I’ve wanted this for years, and I want you to stay.”

Naser nodded, lips parted as if to speak, but instead ofsaying anything aloud, he nodded with greater emphasis.

Mason nodded confidently, feeling anything but sure. “I’mgonna get dressed and then…” But he was back in the bedroom before he couldfinish the sentence, desperate to put every moment he had to spend away fromNaser on fast forward. By the time Naser emerged from the bathroom, towelinghimself off, Mason had slid into old jeans and a fraternity T-shirt. Masoncould only think of one way to make the moment less awkward. He found his keyring on the nightstand, pulled the house key off it, and handed it to Naser.

“In case you want to take a walk on the beach or anything.”

“Sure.”

Naser smiled politely—politely,after everythingthey’d just done to each other. Mason wanted to die—then closed his fingersaround the key even though he didn’t have a pocket to put it in.

“An hour,” Mason said.

Naser nodded.

Mason was halfway down the steps when the argument raging inhis head resolved itself with sudden clarity. The anonymous in AlcoholicsAnonymous was about other people, other people’s names and stories andattendance. Not his. Andgoddammit, if today wasn’tabout being honest.

Baring it all.

When he sprang back into the bedroom, he could already feelthe lump in his throat. He felt a rising tide of sadness and fear out of scaleto everything around him. Sober sex had done this, he suspected. And the wildride leading up to it. For years now, he’d done his best to drown uncomfortablefeelings. Now he’d gorged on a buffet table of them in a day’s time.

“It’s an AA meeting.” It came out like a shout instead of aconfession. Naser looked up like a gun had gone off. “It’s not just some randomthing… It’s… I went for the first time a week ago. My—” Any mention of Shirley,or a reference to a neighbor would violate anonymity, so he stopped.Readjusted. His tone was too harsh. He wanted to explain, not to accuse. “Afriend took me a week ago and… Um… It’s changing things. Changingme.”Softening his tone had softened the dam inside of him.

“Mason.”

The gentle tone of Naser’s voice alerted Mason to his comingtears before his vision blurred.

“And it’s the only thing I would walk out on this for. You see,I agreed to bring cookies. But it’s not just about cookies. It’s about beingaccountable and consistent. Being connected to something bigger, bigger than…”A dozen ways he wanted to finish that thought. Something bigger than Ferrarisand your dad’s money and all the abusive conditions that came with it, andhouses that impressed people you didn’t like, and a never-ending wheel ofparties that were supposed to seem cool and edgy but where you were too numbedout to feel them because inside you felt like you didn’t belong there oranywhere.

To escape all that, he needed to connect to something biggerthan who’d he been, bigger than all theshittythingshe’d done.

“Mason.”

There was a frog in his throat now, but he could feel Nasergently gripping his elbows. “And it feels like…areally goodthing that’s made better things happen. The meetings, I mean. And it’s onlybeen a week, but I just wanted you to know that… I want you to know that I’vewanted this for years—you, here. Like this. For years I’ve wanted this, and theonly thing, theonlything that would make me walk out on it even foran hour is this. Something this serious. Because…because what’s wrong with meis very serious, Naser.”

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