I wet my lips. “Oh.”
Mason’s logo on store fronts around the city. I can picture it. Then merchandise. Water bottles and cute little tops.
He should expand. He’d be fantastic with it.
“Why are you here, Brooke? You look a bit . . . out of sorts.” He reaches out and squeezes my arm at the elbow. I don’t pull away from him like I did when Vince touched me.
After a year, I would still remember how this felt.
Swallowing through a heavy blink, I lower my gaze to a spot on Mason’s shirt. “I was making a delivery in that building and this guy I hooked up with last year asked if I wanted to go at it again. You know, have sex.” I briefly glance up at him.
He appears engrossed by what I’m saying, watching me with an absorbing look in his eyes. His jaw tight as if he’s clenching his teeth. His grip on my arm tensing.
I drop my head. “I told him I didn’t want to. That I had a boyfriend.”
“Yeah?”
I nod and step back. “I have to go.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute.” Mason grabs my arm again. His other hand cups my cheek. The corner of his mouth twitches as he stares down at me. “You said you have a boyfriend.”
I close my eyes. “I don’t know,” I whisper.
My heart pounds in my chest. The blood in my veins warms and heats my skin until a fine sheen of sweat builds on the surface.
“Brooke.”
I grab his wrist and pull his hand away from my face. “Stop. I need to go. I just . . .” I move back, but Mason seizes my waist and hauls me against him.
“What’s going on? Why are you panicking?”
“Because.”
I try and turn in his arms. I try and escape, run away from this, from my worry and the emotions I feel coiling around me and suffocating.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I suddenly feel so small and crowded in my own skin.
“Because why? Talk to me,” he pleads, bending to get closer. “Brooke.”
My name on his lips and the way he says it, like a familiar embrace, unlocks something inside of me. Another level of uncertainty. Something so overwhelming it roots itself deep in my soul and demands to be acknowledged.
Feel this. Do you know what this is, Brooke?
Panic collapses in on me. I gather a full breath into my lungs and push against his chest with every ounce of strength I have left. “Because I don’t know men like you!” I yell, my voice breaking and sounding as fragile as I feel.
Mason staggers back, eyes round and enthralling. The look on his face mirroring my own trepidation.
“I don’t understand what we’re doing and I just need a minute to breathe, okay?” Tears wet my cheeks. More threaten behind my lashes. “I need a minute,” I softly utter, wiping at my face and looking up at him.
God, what is happening to me? I’m yelling at everyone today.
He pinches his lips together through a tense nod, studying me with rapt attention. His eyes gentle yet gripping.
I try and compose myself. I manage to at least stop fresh tears from forming, but my chest feels tight and my hands are sweaty. I pray I don’t stroke out right here on the sidewalk.
Mason stares at me a moment longer, then looks over my shoulder and rubs at his jaw. “Why don’t we go grab some coffee? Sit down for a bit.”
I shake my head. “No. I need to get back to work.”
“Come on.” He reaches out for me, but pulls his hand back before he can touch my arm. He tilts his head with a tender grin. “Just a few minutes, yeah? I won’t keep you long. Just one cup of coffee.”
“I’ve already given you coffee today,” I reply, wrapping my arms around myself.
He seems to fight a much broader smile as he moves closer. “I know, sweet Brooke. But it’s either this or lunch, and I figured you’d be more agreeable to a quick beverage.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and jerks his chin in the direction behind me. “One more cup. If Dylan gives you grief about it I’ll say it was all my doing. That I kidnapped you and ignored your urgent pleas to return to work. You’ll look like the model employee, I promise.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and contemplate his request.
Coffee, then I can return to work. Do I even want to return to work? I’m beginning to think that maybe leaving the sanctity of my bedroom at all today was the biggest mistake of my life.
Everything seemed so simple this weekend. I was in my perfect little Mason bubble and everyone left me alone about it. I didn’t have to explain myself to anyone. I wasn’t being asked to define anything. Even though Billy and Joey were around Saturday night, they left the two of us alone and from what I can remember, I enjoyed myself. I usually do with Mason. But now the weekend is over. I’m being forced to analyze what I’m doing and what all happens in my perfect little bubble, and I don’t want to. I don’t even know if I can.
How am I supposed to explain this to people when I don’t know what’s happening myself?
I clear that question from my head and look up into Mason’s eyes.
He’s offering me a chance to delay further abuse from my co-workers. I’d be crazy not to take it right now.
On the other hand, agreeing to this means spending more time with the man I just stuck a label on.
My mind itches with hesitancy.
God, I seriously hate Mondays. I am never partaking in one again.
Wiping away another tear with the back of my fingers, I drop my arms and make my decision.