8. Lizzy
LIZZY
Mason whistles as he stands on my front porch while I fish the key out of my purse. “This is nice.”
“I love everything about it.” I saved up for years to put a down payment on a house, and as soon as this one went up for sale, I knew I had to have it. “This was my dream house.”
It’s a small cottage home with a wraparound front porch, perfect for sipping tea or something stronger on a hot summer day. The exterior is painted a moody dark gray, which contrasts nicely with my aqua front door.
“This would cost a fortune in Chicago.”
“Are there houses like this downtown?” I ask as I slip the key into the lock and turn.
Mason chuckles. “Not like this, but there are houses, mostly attached. You have to go a little farther out for freestanding units to become the norm.”
“Do they have gardens? I love flowers. All the concrete in Chicago makes me itchy sometimes.”
Mason places his hand on the small of my back as I push open the front door. “They do, and if they didn’t, I’d make one for you.”
I warm at his words, believing he’d do whatever it took to give me my dream. That’s another thing about him. Something else that makes it hard for my brain to keep telling my heart no.
“Prepare yourself,” I warn him as I take a step into the foyer. “The inside is more colorful than the out.”
“I can’t wait,” he says, following me and freezing once he’s fully through the door. “What the…”
I look over my shoulder at his beautiful face, his mouth gaping open and his eyes wide as saucers. “I told you.”
“This is…” He slowly glances around, soaking in the few rooms he can see from the foyer. “Wow.”
“It can be a little much.”
For the last five years, I’ve put my personal touches on every single spot I can get my hands on.
Vibrant colors to cancel out the dreary winter weather when sunshine is practically nonexistent.
Striking floral wallpaper on areas I couldn’t get perfect, no matter how many times I worked on the drywall.
The wide-plank wooden floors are a rich, warm tone that flow throughout the entire house.
“No,” he whispers as he wraps his arm around my middle, his front pressing against my back. He brings his mouth close to my ear. “It’s perfect because it’s you.”
I put my hand on his as it rests on my stomach, loving the feel of him so close to me. The resolve I had to stay strong and not fall for Mason is slipping at an alarmingly rapid clip. “Thanks, Mase.”
“I want to see more.”
My belly flips for a second when my mind goes to dirty places. “I’ll show you everything.” My voice comes out huskier than I wanted.
“Lead the way, sweetheart.” When he drops his hand from around me, I instantly miss the contact.
I set my purse on the side table near the door. “The dining room and the den.”
“A den is fancy.”
I chuckle. “It’s not, but I didn’t need a front room.”
“Man, I haven’t heard that word in forever.”
“Your family doesn’t have one?” I ask.
He walks into the den and runs his finger along the spines of the books on my bookcases. “Did you read all of these?”
I nod. “They’re more than decoration.”
“You know my aunt is an author, right?”
“I know. I try not to fangirl every time I talk to her.”
He turns his head toward me and smiles, making my heart melt a little more. “Have you read her books?” He waggles his eyebrows.
My face heats, but I ignore the feeling. “Of course.” I walk in and move to the romance section of my bookcase where her books are, which is most of my collection.
“Me too,” he says and winks at me.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. I shouldn’t be by anything he does anymore. Plus, if my aunt were a popular author, I’d have to see what all the hype was about. “Did you like them?” I hand him the one signed copy I purchased from her website a few years ago.
He takes the book and stares at it. “This is the one I read, and yes, I liked it. Who wouldn’t?”
“A lot of people.”
“They’re idiots,” he replies, flipping open the cover. “It’s signed.”
“I know.” I chuckle. “I purchased it online years before I met her.”
He hands me the book back, our fingers brushing against each other. “I’ll get you a full set.”
I don’t move my hand away from his as quickly as I should. Our eyes are locked, and I’m taken back to the kiss near the waterfall. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and bring myself back to the moment. “No, I have them all. I don’t need another set.”
“But I know the author.” I bet I’m not the first woman he’s used that sentence on, but maybe I’m the first who knows he isn’t lying.
“So do I,” I say, leaning into his space and bringing my mouth way too close to his.
His brown eyes search mine, and I can see a war inside them. “You’d better back up, or I won’t be able to give you a house tour before we start practicing.”
My gaze dips to his mouth, and my breath hitches as he licks his lips, taunting me. Everything inside me screams for me to launch myself into his arms, but somehow, I resist the urge. I take a step back and pull in a deep breath.
I see a flash of disappointment in his eyes before it disappears. “Show me the rest of the house.”
It doesn’t take long for me to show him the kitchen and living room since they’re attached. It feels a little weird having him in my house, even though I’ve been to his place many times.
Most people in the family, Mason’s sister included, think we’ve been sleeping together for months.
When Hunter was shot, Mason became someone I could lean on, and we spent more and more time together, but we never did anything physical.
At first, it was because I wasn’t in the right headspace for anything, given that I wasn’t sure my brother would survive.
And after that, it was because I didn’t think my heart could survive Mason.
“And the bedroom,” he says, one eyebrow cocked.
“There are two. I’ll show you the guest room and then my room.”
“Am I sleeping in the guest room?” he asks.
A small part, and I mean a tiny sliver, wants to say yes, but it’s been so long since I’ve curled up with someone. Mason was the last person to hold me all night, and I’ve never felt as safe as I did that night. “No, silly. You can sleep with me.”
That answer puts a smile on his face, and he’s unable to stand still. He reminds me of a little kid waiting in line at his favorite ice cream place as they make his cone.
“With clothes on,” I add, waving my finger up and down his body.
His shoulders slump, and I bite back a giggle. “Top and bottoms?”
“Bottoms.”
He nods. “I can do that.”
“Didn’t give you a choice,” I reply as we walk toward my bedroom, figuring there’s no point in showing him the guest room since he’ll never stay in it. “Here’s my favorite room in the house.”
He squeezes through the doorway, purposely brushing against me as he moves. “It’s gorgeous,” he says, looking even bigger in the space.
My bedroom is fairly large, compared to the size of the house, but it’s filled with an oversized dark-wood queen-size bed and other furniture. The walls are matte black with black velvet floor-length drapes on the windows.
“This is perfect for sleeping.”
“The color is really calming.”
“It’s completely opposite of everything else.”
“I can’t have bright and vibrant when I’m trying to get good sleep.”
He places his hand on the bed and gives it a push. “Soft.”
“It’s adjustable.” I paid a fortune for the damn thing, but it’s worth every single penny.
“I don’t know how you ever get out of bed in the morning. I need a bedroom like this since I work late and need to sleep well after the sun comes up. I never thought about black walls and curtains. It’s kind of like being outside at night.”
I never thought of it that way, but he’s right. If I added a few glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, it would be a perfect replica. “We could make it happen next time I’m in town. We can spend a day redecorating your bedroom to give you the best sleep possible. Do you have a sound machine?”
“A sound what?”
I walk over to my nightstand and press that power button. The room fills with the sound of falling rain, followed by a slow roll of thunder.
He points at the machine. “I want that.”
“I’ll get you one.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll buy everything. You tell me what to get and when you’ll help, and I’ll have it all ready for us.”
I smile, loving that he always seems so excited and down for anything I throw his way.
But men…sheesh. How does he not know what a sound machine is, especially since he has a sister?
I’d think he’d know a little bit more about girl things, but sometimes his level of cluelessness on topics is shocking.
“Next time I’m there, I can come in a day early.”
“When’s that?”
“In two weeks. I’ll be there more as the wedding gets closer.”
He crosses his arms, tilting his head. “If we replicate your bedroom, will you want to stay with me when you’re in town?”
Cue belly flip. “Um,” I mumble, completely thrown by the question. “I…”
Staying with Hunter isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I never liked staying with him when he wasn’t in a relationship, but now, he’s even worse.
They try to be quiet, but the walls aren’t that thick and the soundproofing sucks.
Add in the fact that Amira is there most times I am, and sharing a bed with a kid who kicks in her sleep is the absolute worst.
“Yeah. Maybe I will.”
Mason claps his hands and rubs them together. “Then we’re totally doing it.”
I throw my head back and laugh at the amount of excitement on his face. “You’ll do anything to get me into bed, won’t you?”
He stalks forward, backing me up against the nightstand. “I’d move heaven and earth if I thought it would make you fall in love with me faster.”
I swallow, staring up into his big brown eyes. I don’t want to admit it to him, but a small part of me fell in love the moment I laid eyes on him. “Mason,” I whisper as he moves his hand to my jaw, cradling my face gently in his palm.
His other hand lands on my hip, and he digs his fingertips into my plump skin. “I’d paint my place pink if you were in it all the time. Whatever you want, Lizzy, I’d do it.”
“Kiss me,” I say softly, barely able to believe I am uttering the words. But although we were kissing by the waterfall less than an hour ago, it feels like it’s been forever. I want to taste him, to feel his lips against me.
Do not sleep with Mason Gallo.
Do not sleep with Mason Gallo.
Do not sleep with Mason Gallo.
I repeat the mantra to myself, because right now, sleeping with Mason Gallo would be a mistake. I’m not ready for it, and there would be no walking back from the type of emotional connection that would form between the two of us.
Mason digs his fingers into the back of my neck, tilting my head backward before his lips slam down on mine. He steals the air from my lungs as our mouths collide, and my body longs to feel him in every way possible.
He presses his front to mine, sliding his hand from my hip to my ass. I feel small against him. His large hands and frame would make damn near anyone feel tiny, and for that, I’m thankful.
Just like by the waterfall, the world melts away and nothing else matters but this moment. Our breaths mingle, our lips and tongues searching for something that isn’t there, but that doesn’t mean we will stop trying.
I fumble with his shirt, sliding my fingers under the thin material until I find his warm skin. I graze his flesh as I move my hands to his back, gripping him like he could evaporate if I don’t ground him to me.
There is no doubt in my mind that Mason is into me. Even without the needy moans spilling from his lips, the hard press of his cock against my belly tells me everything I need to know when it comes to his desire.
Do not sleep with Mason Gallo.
Do not sleep with Mason Gallo.
Do not sleep with Mason Gallo.
It has been almost a year since I’ve slept with someone, and that experience wasn’t one that I want to remember, but being with him damn near traumatized me daily.
I’d always loved my body and felt comfortable in my skin, until he ruined everything by the constant put-downs and comments.
Thankfully, I came to my senses and ended things, but not before he could get in one final dig.
You’re useless, and no one will love your pudgy thighs and thick middle. You’re unlovable, Lizzy.
I gasp as I pull away, remembering the hurtful words at the worst time.
“What’s wrong?” Mason pants, staring at me like I just took away his favorite toy.
“I’m…”
“Don’t say it,” he says, like he can read my mind.
“But you?—”
He shakes his head and moves back into my space. “Do you want me, Lizzy?”
I bite my lip, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. “God, yes,” I groan as he reaches out and brushes a finger down my cheek.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I shake my head. “No. I just…”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says.
What the hell am I doing? Why am I letting an asshole from my past, someone with a below-average penis, on top of it all, ruin the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life? I won’t give him that power anymore. He doesn’t merit it, and I want and deserve better.
“I’m sorry, I—” But I don’t get the words out because Mason’s mouth is on mine again, taking away every fear, doubt, and criticism I have about myself or his attraction to me.