“Not a lot that I’ve met.”
He fixates his gaze on the dark road in front of us. “I realized how pathetic I looked after I uprooted my life, but I didn’t want to go back home. I needed something new. So I left her in Texas and drove until I didn’t feel like driving anymore.”
I cross one leg over the other, angling my body toward him. “She sounds like a C-word. If some guy followed me thousands of miles away, I’d probably ask him to marry me.”
The car comes to a stop at a red light, and he looks over at me, confusion creasing his brow. “C-word?”
“Cunt.”
His eyes go wide, and I can tell I’ve just embarrassed him a bit. “Wow.”
I give an apologetic shrug while my fingers begin nervously twisting the ends of my hair. “Sorry. My mouth doesn’t have much of a filter.”
“No need to apologize. I like your mouth.”
I glance over at him, forcing down an uncomfortable swallow. “Mason, I don’t think I’m…”
“I know you’re not ready, Tessa,” he interrupts with a kind smile. “I think I knew something was up when I asked for your number. You went from flirting with me pretty hard to being almost uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I still had a good time tonight.”
I drop my hand into my lap, letting my eyes focus on the dashboard. “He said things to me tonight I’ve been waiting to hear from him, and I told him it was too late.” I reach up and wipe the tear off my cheek as a small whimper slips past my lips. “Do you think he believed me?”
Mason squeezes my hand. “I don’t know. Did you look like this when you said it?” I shake my head before dropping it into my hands. His arms pull me against his side, and he rubs my back gently. “Shh,” he says into my hair as I cry against him. “It’ll be okay.”
I don’t know how long we sit there for, but Mason never rushes me. He never once pulls me away from him, not even to check the state of his shirt, which I’m rubbing my face against. When I’ve finally calmed myself down, he hands me a wad of napkins he keeps in the glove compartment and smiles at me, like I’ve given him one of the best dates he’s ever had.
This guy will seriously ruin a very lucky girl.
I climb the stairs leading up to my apartment, gripping my clutch with one hand while my other slides along the railing. When I reach the top, my heart slams against my ribs at the sight of Luke, sitting with his back against my door, knees bent and his head hanging low between his shoulders. I stand motionless, but he senses me and lifts his eyes to meet mine.
We both move at the same time, me slowly inching forward toward my door, and him pushing off the ground and straightening up. He tucks his hands into his pockets, looking unsure of himself, as I come up beside him.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, pulling my keys out of my clutch. My nervous fingers drop them, and I curse as I bend over, picking them off the ground.
“I came straight here from the bar. I didn’t think you’d be that long.” His voice comes from close behind me as I try and steady my hand enough to shove the key into the top lock. It’s not working, and I nearly drop them again. I let out a rushed breath when he reaches around me, covering my hand with his, and unlocks the door.
“Please let me in,” he says into my hair, sending a chill down my back. His hand moves, twisting both of ours together, continuing the motion with the rest of the locks until the last one is unlatched.
I stare at the door, not pushing it open yet, while his hand remains on mine, holding the key in the bottom lock.
“Please. I’m not here for…” He pauses, moving closer until his lips press against my ear. I close my eyes. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, Tessa. Just let me be here. Please.”
I turn my head, prompting him to lean back so he can look at me. “If I say no, are you going to leave?”
“Probably not.” His eyes soften, and I watch his neck roll with a hard swallow as he stares at my mouth, waiting for the words he needs to hear.
I make a decision, one that I might regret tomorrow, but it’s done. I push open the door and walk inside.
Turn it. Please, let me in.
Her eyes are reddened, heavy with uncertainty. She blinks slowly as she contemplates this decision, and I want to rush her, to decide for her, but I don’t. I won’t force myself inside if she doesn’t want me, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving.
Her lips part, and with a soft exhale her wrist finally turns, opening the door.
I wait, not wanting to push my way in if she doesn’t want this. My fingers curl around the wood of the doorframe as I keep my body braced, ready to enter. She looks back at me after taking a few steps inside, raising her eyebrows expectantly, and that’s all I need.
I shut the door behind me, clicking the locks in place as I try and keep the blinding relief coursing through me hidden.
But, fuck, I want to kiss her just for looking back at me.
Waiting outside her door, not knowing what she was doing with that guy has left my nerves fused together, coiled in a tight bundle in the center of my chest. I’ve heard of panic attacks, and I damn near had one, thinking she wasn’t going to come home.
I would’ve waited. She could’ve been out all night, and I would’ve fucking waited.
Seeing her like that at the bar messed my shit up. I never needed Tessa to admit her feelings to me. What we had, what she gave me was always enough, but hearing her say it, that she’s loved me all this time, that… fuck, I don’t know how I ever lived without hearing it.
Tessa watches me over her shoulder as the fifth lock is latched, then drops her purse and keys on the kitchen table.
“I’m going to get changed, if you want to watch TV or something.” She avoids my eyes, but gestures in the direction of the couch before walking toward the hallway leading to the bedroom.
Fuck watching TV. The only thing I want to watch is her. Tessa can do whatever the hell she wants tonight, but my eyes will be on her the second she comes back out here.
I need a distraction to keep myself from walking to her bedroom, so I open the refrigerator, leaning down to peer inside. I grab the packet of cookie dough squares off the top shelf and tear across the top, breaking the seal. As I pop one of the squares into my mouth, I notice the tea-kettle on the back burner. Tessa loves drinking that green herbal shit at night. She used to try and get me to drink some when she said I needed to relax. I never did. It looks awful, and it smells worse, but she likes it.
I fill the kettle with warm water and turn the burner on high. The low whistle begins to sound as I’m chewing up my third cookie dough square. Setting the pack down, I turn off the burner and pour the water over the tea bag, filling the cup. The aroma seeps out from the top and hits me in the face.
I lean away, setting the kettle down. “Fuck. How do you drink this?”
“How do I drink what?”
I look over my shoulder to see Tessa standing on the other side of the small island attached to the kitchen counter. Her face is flushed, stripped of all makeup like I prefer. Her hair is pulled up out of her face into one of those messy knots she always does, and she’s wearing my T-shirt from the other day.