Mason
I don’t know what woke me up, but I’m up. Staring at the ceiling, I’m wide awake. I rub my eyes and check my phone.
It’s almost five o’clock in the morning.
Either the sun is just starting to rise, or it’s a full moon because my condo is already tinted in muted light. I need to check in on Trix, but it’s too early. She needs her sleep. Not too early for a run—Knock-knock-knock!
A frantic pounding on my front door tenses my muscles. Just the sound alone radiates panic. What the hell?
I rip off my comforter and charge down the steps, whirling around the corner and flinging open the door.
“Trix?”
She rushes into my arms, her body going almost completely slack once I grip her to me.
“Trix, baby, what’s wrong?”
Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and the smell of liquor is all over her. She shakes her head and squeezes me tighter. Something’s not right. Fear floods my veins.
Shutting the door, I hook her beneath the legs to scoop her into my arms and take her to the couch.
“I’m sorry.” She buries her face in my neck, her forehead cool against my skin. No fever. “I’m so sorry.”
My gut clenches and I hold her tighter. “Shh, it’s okay, what are you sorry for?”
She shakes her head, her nose brushing against my neck. “I lied to you. I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning.” She continues to whisper a mumbled “I’m sorry.”
My hold on her lets up at the sudden need to see her face. Sliding her off my lap, I release her to pull back enough to see her. “Lied about what?”
Her face, still heavily made up from her shift at the club but smeared with dripping mascara, bunches with a cringe. “I’m not sick. I’m a little drunk though.”
Okay, that explains the booze smell. “Didn’t drive, did you?”
“Cab.”
Good. “So you lied about being sick?”
“Yes, and . . .” She dips her chin for a minute before her eyes search mine; fear and worry shadow her expression. “He’s back.”
My stomach drops with a sickening thud, and my fists clench. “Who is back?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Mason.” She shakes her head as tears roll down her face. I’ve seen this look on a woman before, the struggle between what she needs and what she wants. The war behind her eyes says she’s about to crush the soul of a man who cares for her more than she can return. If memory serves, I’d say history is about to repeat itself.
I straighten and stalk to the other side of the room, fisting my hands in my hair and wishing I could turn off my feelings. Shield myself from what’s about to happen and fall into numbness. Pain slices through my chest, and I force my mouth to ask the question. I need to hear it from her lips, but pray, by some miracle, it’s not what I think. “You’re leaving me.”
“I . . . need to explain,” she whispers. “I don’t have a choice.”
There. She said it. It’s done.
A numbing heat envelops me, and I glare at her. “So that’s it? Just like that.”
Blackened splatters of mascara-soaked tears drip from her eyes and dot her white shirt. “I thought he was gone for good.”
Son of a bitch! An ex-boyfriend.
“. . . but he showed up tonight. I—”
“Fine. You said what you had to say. Now you can leave.” Unable to look at her for another second, I storm upstairs to my room and straight into the bathroom.
I practically punch on the shower and rip off my shorts, ducking under the spray, needing to be wet and naked to avoid chasing after her. This can’t be happening. I wasn’t wrong about this girl. Jessica and Eve, yes.
But not her. Not Trix.
Bracing my weight, I force my hands to stay planted against the tiled wall, fighting the urge to run back downstairs and beg her to stay. I’ve chased after women in the past and it got me nowhere but alone without even a sliver of pride to call my own. I won’t do that again. I allow the hot water to beat down on my neck and shoulders in hopes that it’ll calm my racing heart.
Her words run through my head on a loop—over and over again until I’m no longer pressing against the tile with my palms, but with my fists.
“Mason?”
I jerk toward the sound of her voice, strands of my hair hanging wet and heavy in my eyes. She’s standing on the other side of the glass shower door, totally and completely naked. My eyes rake over her body, and again, I’m struck by her beauty. She reaches a shaking hand to the door, but her gaze locks on mine, waiting for permission.