Chapter 39 #2
“Did you mix hot sauce with this?” I asked, still chewing.
She nodded.
Definitely pregnant. The only other time Mason liked spice was when Rosie made her crave salsa.
I forced the food down and pretended I wasn’t sweating.
“I have dairy free ranch in the fridge. These are better with that,” I said casually before pushing the plate back to her. “If you’re hungry, you should eat.”
Mason nodded and pushed the chair back, the wheels sounded against the floor. She then stood, smoothing the hoodie down.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
Mason froze just in front of the desk.
“To give you space, I kind of invaded your office without permission.”
“Well, now you have permission.” I shrugged, stealing another nugget before crashing into the office chair. “Sit on my lap?”
Mason tilted her head, eyes narrowing like she couldn’t tell if I was serious or not.
“Come on,” I said, patting my thighs. “You’re in my office, you stole my hoodie, you’re reading my text book for some fucking reason—just give me this.”
“I’ve gotten… heavier recently,” she admitted, hand pressed to her stomach in a way that totally didn’t scream that she was holding her baby bump.
But, I just ignored it, like I was supposed to.
“I don’t give a rat's ass if you weigh two tons. Get on my lap.”
Mason's lips twitched with the threat of a smile.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re ridiculous?" She snorted a laugh.
I raised a shoulder before patting my lap.
“Cam says it a lot, normally before he gives me what I want.” I smirked.
She stood there for a moment, and I patted my lap more aggressively.
Mason sighed and shook her head, but still, she started toward me. I scooted back, giving her all the space she needed, because the last thing I wanted was for her to feel like she was too much for me.
She eased onto me, not giving me her full weight, and, in short, I said fuck that. So, I did the only rational thing and wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her little ass down. She let out a startled squeak, her hands instinctively grabbing the edge of my desk for balance.
“Sebastian!” she scolded, half laughing, half appalled.
“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. “You were hovering. It’s insulting.”
“I wasn’t hovering, I was—”
“—being ridiculous,” I cut in smoothly, settling my arms more comfortably around her middle. “You weigh, what, ninety pounds? You’re not going to crush me, Princess.”
My fingers tingled with the urge to touch her belly, and while I should have resisted, I couldn’t. So, I slipped a hand up her hoodie and settled my palm on the warm skin before pulling her closer and breathing her in.
Shaking slightly, I rested my chin on her shoulder. After seeing Alex, I needed this. I needed her.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, not daring to move.
I nodded against her and closed my eyes. “Yeah, why?”
“You breathe weird when you’re upset, and you’re breathing weird.”
I huffed a small laugh against her neck, trying to play it off, but my chest still felt too tight. “You notice everything, don’t you?”
Mason didn’t answer right away. Her fingers brushed over my forearm, tracing a slow line up to where my hand rested against her stomach.
“Only when it’s you,” she said quietly. “I think we kind of notice everything.”
I smirked, “It used to be my job, and, well, autism is your superpower.”
“I’m going to get up,” she declared, pulling away.
But, I held onto her and whined.
“Don’t,” I murmured, tightening my arms around her. “Just… stay.”
Mason froze mid-motion, half turned in my lap.
“Sebastian,” she warned, but her voice had softened.
“I had a bad day,” I admitted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “You’re kind of the only thing that makes it better.”
Mason returned to my lap, shifting so her legs dangled from the side and she could look up at me.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “I just, I’m done with my past.”
Mason nodded, “I’m done with your past too.”
I quirked a brow and finally looked at the page she had the book open to.
The psychology behind homicide and those who commit it.
“Seriously?” I asked.
Mason looked down at her lap. “It’s not about you.”
“Sophia?”
Mason nodded. “I don’t know why you killed someone, but I know you seem sorry. Sophia doesn’t, and now that this is all out–”
“She acts like it’s a game.”
Mason nodded.
“Do you think it’s a sex thing for her? Your book said it could be.”
I blinked at her, my brain short-circuiting for a second. “A sex thing?”
Mason shrugged, eyes still on the textbook like she was afraid to look at me.
“It said some people kill because it gives them a sense of control or power. And Sophia…” she trailed off, biting her lip.
“Well, she likes control, and now the whole thing seems exciting to her. Like, not just that she’s a murderer, but that we know she’s a murderer. ”
I rubbed the back of my neck, torn between horror and grim amusement, because I’d noticed it too.
“I uh, well, to me it seems like Sophia’s brain is wired like an old carnival ride. Half the lights are out, and the rest warning you not to get on, but you do anyway.”
Mason nodded, “Do you like Sophia?”
I drew in a deep breath, not wanting to tell Mason no, I absolutely do not.
Because that wasn’t entirely true. You see I loved the idea of Sophia.
Sure, I wasn’t sure what to do with all her curves, but a beautiful blonde woman who was obsessed with me?
And maybe dominated me just a little? Sign me the fuck up.
I just couldn't do the crazy. Or the way she made others feel small without trying. Or the way she seemed to only exist in her world, not caring about the way it’d affect others.
“I just don’t believe she and I are sexually compatible,” I confessed. “She likes to embarrass people, and I’m not confident enough for that.”
Mason’s brow furrowed like she was trying to decide if I was joking or actually baring my soul. And I didn’t like that, so I went immediately to dumbass mode.
“Hey,” I smirked, planting my hands on her stomach, “am I getting a baby for my birthday?”