Page 91 of Escape Velocity
Mason crosses his arms and sits back on his bed, giving Callum the floor.
“It’s that one voice. That booming, loud, belligerent voice that tells me that everyone’s lying to me. That I’ll never be good enough for anything.”
Callum balls his fists and throws his hands in the air, grunting as he lets out his frustration.
“I’m sotiredof hearing it. All the time. It’s always there. I’ve learned to block it out, but it never fully goes away. It just sits there, dormant. Waiting until I’m happy and successful to put me back in my place.”
Mason winces and bites his lip, feeling his chest clench in commiseration.
Callum stops pacing, and the ghost of a smile appears on his face. “But sometimes…”
He turns to Mason, and his eyes soften, the hurt and anger dissipating from his body. “Another voice takes its place.”
Callum walks toward Mason and kneels in front ofhim, meeting him almost at eye level despite being on his knees.
“A voice that makes my heart soar like a Hail Mary. A voice that sounds like the cheering crowds. A voice that sounds like winning a championship game.”
Callum takes Mason’s hands and kisses them. Twice on the knuckles, and a few times in his palm.
Warmth streams through Mason’s fingertips and hands as he feels Callum’s rough and warm lips on his hands, like they’re a foreign yet familiar entity.
“And that voice is one of the only things keeping me going sometimes. Makes me believe that maybe I can get out of this place and make it to the big leagues. And that I can leave my dad behind in that stupid Podunk town.”
Callum inhales and lets go of Mason’s hand.
Mason stands up and looks down at Callum.
Callum raises an eyebrow and stands up as well, re-establishing his clear height dominance and smirks as he looks down at Mason.
You have a platform and a way with words. Use them.
Mason looks up at Callum and his heart stutters at the reality that his words resonate with Callum so much. That the exact thing he doesn’t want to become is becoming his greatest hit. His most heralded talent.
How proud his parents would be. But would they be? Would they still be proud if he used his pen for singing Callum’s praises?
“I can’t—” Mason sighs and closes his eyes in frustration.
“It’s like my fingers are incapable of not being used to write. And I hate that my parents were right about me with it. It might not be my passion, and it might not be thecareer that I want… but I think I’m figuring out what I can use my words for…”
Mason clenches his fists and looks up at Callum, who stares down at him in wonder, like he’s holding onto Mason’s every word.
“I think I was meant to use my words to tell people how much I care about them. To uplift them. To make them feel worthy. And I think you’re just so amazing, Callum. And I want to tell you that all the time.”
Mason’s chest burns with his candor. It’s a confession and a revelation at the same time. He didn’t know how much he meant or thought it until he verbalized it.
“I hope that doesn’t sound?—”
Mason’s cut off by Callum’s strong hands taking his face and smashing his mouth into his own.
Callum’s mouth is brazen and unyielding on his, and Mason’s mouth stays still in shock.
His chest feels like it changes in altitude as he realizes that Callum wants more. That he feels so passionately about Mason, and Mason finally leans into it.
Callum angles his head, moving it further towards Mason, as if to overtake him, and Mason falls back onto his bed as Callum stands over him, carefully leaning over to keep his mouth on his.
The kiss is as blazing and fiery and over as fast as a firework.
Callum puts his hands on Mason’s shoulders and focuses his gaze on Mason fully.
