Chapter 24 #2
Jules tugs me close and says, “You know why I love romance novels? It’s not for the smut.” She laughs. “Well, it’s partially for the smut. But really? It’s because they prove that even in the midst of life, love still finds a way in.”
She pauses, her chaos temporarily quieted.
“Life’s full of pain. Some of it is crushing, like what you’ve been through.
And some comes from the mundane daily grind of being an adult.
But we don’t have to live in fear of it.
We can feel all of it, the highs and lows, and know we’re truly living.
” Her voice grows fierce. “Stop letting the past dim your light, Syd. Life’s too short for what-ifs. It’s time to burn it all down.”
***
Before the clock strikes midnight, Mason finds me.
He’s had enough to drink to be emboldened and curls a possessive arm around me. “Why don’t you dance with me that way?”
“Mason, we can’t pretend we’re fine because you’ve had a few drinks.”
“You went through a lot of effort if you weren’t looking for my attention.”
“I cut my hair for myself. I’m wearing this dress because I like how it makes me feel. This is for me. It’s not for your approval.”
His lips curve, but not quite to a smile. “Funny, it seems like you were trying to look nice for someone.”
The countdown begins before I can get away.
Ten.
He moves closer, his palm trailing down my exposed back.
Nine.
His fingers press, trying to pull me against him.
Eight.
Seven.
Dread coils deep in my stomach.
Six.
Five.
The noise swells around us, the room’s energy electric. All I feel is what he’s expecting.
Four.
Three.
Two.
The room erupts as the ball drops, voices rising in celebration.
Mason’s hands tighten. His mouth crashes into mine.
His lips taste of champagne and control.
I choke on the memory of the deck. The revulsion is instant and total.
I pull back, breaking the kiss, and throw myself toward the nearest people—Jules, Tom, anyone but him.
Searching. But I don’t see the man I’m looking for.
Ivy stands with her friends, laughing, nowhere near James when midnight struck.
I slip outside onto the back deck in desperate need of fresh air. Cold air whips around me, the scent of pine and distant smoke riding the breeze as I take a deep, steadying breath, gathering my strength for the next steps forward.
“Having a good New Year’s?” His deep voice comes out of the shadows. He’s leaning against the side of the house near the stairs, already out here. “Wanna come over here, away from all those windows?”
I smile and close the distance. James settles a blanket over my shoulders, his hand resting on my elbow as he leads me down the stairs, away from prying eyes.
“I heard you talked to my mom.”
“Yeah, we had a great conversation. I loved her. I’m going to help.”
I don’t tell him the rest. How Vera’s words burrowed beneath my ribs and haven’t let go since.
“You took my breath away tonight.” His voice is silk against my neck. “I love the haircut. Any reason you decided to do it?”
I exhale slowly, my fingers tracing the sharp, smooth line of his jaw. That lopsided grin spreads across his face. Without thinking, I let my fingertip press gently into his dimple.
“Any reason you shaved?” I counter, my touch featherlight, tracing the warmth of his skin.
His eyes find mine. Dark, hungry, and so damn soft. “Felt like it was time.”
I suck in a breath. “Me too.”
“I don’t want to push you, but tonight is about new beginnings.” James captures my hands, interlacing our fingers. “Sydney, let me be your family. You, me, and Anna.”
His grip tightens around my fingers. “I’m in love with you.” He lifts our clasped hands and presses his lips to the back of my hand. “Please. Trust me. I’m yours.”
I stare into his eyes, and I feel it: certainty. I know what I want. I can take his hand and walk away from a life that has been more about surviving than living. I don’t have to fear it if we both choose it. And he’s shown me repeatedly that he’s choosing me.
Leaning my head against his chest, I breathe in his cologne, warm spice and something I could live inside forever. I feel his heartbeat against my body and give myself a moment to find the words.
But as I open my mouth—
“Syd, you out here?”
Mason.
Ice floods my veins. I jerk back instinctively.
Mason catching us would be catastrophic. The memory of his hands on the deck, the way he grabbed me, flashes through my mind. What would he do if he caught us?
Panic grips my insides.
I turn toward the stairs, toward Mason. But before I reach the top, I glance back and my eyes lock with James’s—a silent plea written in the depths of his. I don’t have time for words. But I hope he sees it in my face.
Yes.
I hope my desperation is as clear as his.
“What are you doing out here?” Mason asks, his eyes sweeping the deck.
“Needed some fresh air.”
Mason scans my face, searching for the lie.
His golden hair, combed over and frozen with product, defies gravity and weather alike.
It stays rigidly in place, matching the scowl on his lips, even as a strong gust rolls off the mountains.
I brush past him, stepping into the cabin’s warmth.
Conversation and clinking glasses wash over me as I pretend my feet are on the ground rather than floating from the almost-confession Mason interrupted.
When James finally slips back inside a few minutes later, Mason’s head snaps toward the door.
For a split second, confusion flickers—then realization strikes.
His eyes cut to me, sharp and damning, the truth snapping into place without a word spoken.
James slips past everyone, not seeming to notice us.
Gone is the charming host, replaced by something dark and vicious.
Mason clamps a hand around mine, the grip punishing, and he yanks me toward the stairs.
The bedroom door slams shut behind us. His hands are on me instantly, pulling at the hem of my dress, his breath jagged.
Using all my strength, I push his hands away. “Mason…” The truth scorches my tongue, but I can’t let it out, not like this. Instead, I lie. “I have my period. The cramps are brutal.”
He stills, his face hardening. “Funny how your cramps didn’t stop you from putting on a show with Jules.”
With an indignant turn, he disappears out the door.
I stand there, stunned, my skin still crawling from his rough hands.
I wait for the anger, the sting, the shame, but it doesn’t come.
Echoes of the party hum through the house, laughter and music drifting under the door.
Inside this room, I finally let myself breathe, James’s words playing on a loop through my mind.
“Let me be your family. You, me, Anna.”
The plea in his voice. The way his lips brushed against my hand, fingers tightening around mine, clinging to hope itself. And the way “yes” was on the verge of leaving my lips.