Chapter Seventeen #2
Mason’s eyes are on my stomach now, and he’s staring without blinking. Finally, he steps out of my arms. Then he looks back at my stomach, and some of the emotion in his eyes fades. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, ignore the lurch in my chest, and approach him.
“We still have time.”
Mason drags his gaze to mine. “What?”
“Before things change,” I whisper. “We can still enjoy ourselves.”
Mason barks out a laugh and steps away. “Is that what you think I’m worried about?”
I pause. “It’s not?”
Mason shakes his head. “I’m going to take a shower.”
He heads for the bathroom without waiting for a response, and I stand frozen in place until I hear the water running.
In a daze, I walk into the bathroom and stand in the doorway, studying Mason’s outline through the curtain.
He pokes his head out, and his hair is wet and flat against his face.
His eyes move over me, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.
“We need to talk.” I reach behind the door for a towel and hold it over my body. “You can’t keep running away from this.”
Mason’s expression tightens. “Paynes do not run.”
“What do you call this, then?”
Mason slides the curtain the rest of the way. “You want to talk? Fine. Let’s talk. Do you still want to keep the baby?”
“You know the answer,” I say.
“Say it, then.”
I exhale. “Yes, I still want to keep the baby.”
“Then there’s nothing to talk about.”
“There’s plenty to talk about. It’s your baby, too. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
Slowly, Mason climbs out of the shower and reaches for the towel. After securing it around his waist, he faces me. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, London.”
“I am not playing dumb. I will not apologize for wanting what I want. You knew that when you went after me.”
Mason stops in front of me. “Don’t turn this on me. I’m not the one who kept such a big secret.”
My arms fall to my sides. “I’m not proud of that, and I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I can’t change that.”
“No shit.”
“It doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole,” I snap. “This isn’t a competition where we keep score of who screwed up. We’re supposed to be in this together.”
Mason laughs humorlessly. “Oh, that’s fucking rich. You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Mason takes another step, so our bodies are flush against each other, and I can see a vein bulging in his neck.
“It means you’re a hypocrite. You talk about honesty and trusting each other, but you’ve been keeping secrets from me.
I’ve tried to be as honest as I could, and this is what I get in return. ”
“I was trying to protect you!”
“And yet when I give you the same reasons, they aren’t good enough,” Mason says. “Tell me how that’s fair.”
Damn it, he’s right.
Mason has been trying, against his judgment and instinct, and all I’ve done is pull further away.
He has every right to be pissed, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
At least he’s finally talking about it. That’s got to count for something, right?
“Cat got your tongue?”
“No, you’re right. I was being a hypocrite. I should’ve come to you when I had the chance. Are you happy now?”
Mason’s expression flattens. “Did you just ask if I’m happy? Are you fucking serious?”
“What do you want from me, Mason? To get down on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness? To tell the whole world I was wrong?”
Mason mutters something but doesn’t break our gaze.
“Whether you like it or not, we are in this together,” I continue. “It takes two people to make a baby.”
“Funny how that didn’t occur to you when you decided to keep it from me.”
I throw my hand up in the air. “Why are we going around in circles? This isn’t going to accomplish anything.”
Mason levels me with a look. “You wanted to talk.”
“So, you’re going to be an arrogant ass about it? Fine, you know what? You’re right. Let’s not talk. This is getting us nowhere.”
“On that, we can agree,” Mason says. “I’m going back to my shower now.”
I watch as he drops the towel, steps back under the water, and yanks the curtain shut behind him. My heart is still hammering uneasily inside my chest as I stand there. My feet feel like lead as I force myself out of the bathroom.
I begin to pace again, but I can’t outrun my thoughts. Instead, I stop in front of the bed and bury my face in my hands.
I stare at the bathroom door, my heart sputtering. I’m blinking back the tears when Mason returns, a thin mist following him into the room. He towel-dries his hair with his back to me, then he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.
Silence stretches between us, heavy and thick.
I stand up and carry my clothes back to the bathroom.
After I gather my hair into a high ponytail, I step back out, and the room is dark. Mason has his feet propped up on a table as I walk past him and draw the covers back. Slowly, I climb onto the bed and turn onto my side.
I pull the covers to my chin and look at him. I have no idea how long we stare at each other from across the room.
When I startle awake, I realize I’ve kicked the covers off and I’m lying on my back, with my arm draped over my stomach.
With a sigh, I push myself up and swat my hair out of my face.
Mason is still in the same position, staring at me with wide, stormy eyes.
My throat is dry and my heart is pounding as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and move to the bathroom.
I down two glasses of water before I come back out.
I spend the night tossing and turning, aware of his eyes on me and unable to do a thing. By the time sleep comes, the bad feeling has grown, and I don’t know what I can do to stop it.
Or if it’s already too late.