34. Mason
Chapter 34
Mason
W hen I storm into my apartment, both Spike and the cat sitter I hired to look after him examine me with similarly worried expressions.
I pay the woman and relieve her of her duties, then soothingly stroke Spike’s fur—the soothing more for me than for him. After a while, my anger has cooled to the point where I want to go back and explain to Sophia that I’d never torpedo her friend’s job, not that it’s even possible now that she’s been hired.
But no.
Sophia won’t open the gates for me. Or talk to me again.
Fucking fuck. I was so jealous after meeting her ex I couldn’t control my big mouth.
Then again, I don’t care if she doesn’t open the gates. I’m heading back there. If I don’t set the record straight, I?—
My phone rings.
It’s Cohen.
I don’t have time for lawyers right now, so I ignore it… except he calls again. And again.
“What?” I bark into the phone.
He informs me that Sophia is selling me the team, and for a pittance.
“No,” I say. “Not if this means we’re never going to see each other again.”
He clears his throat. “The day I start giving my clients relationship advice is the day I’m going to burn my law degree.”
“I wasn’t… never mind. I’ve got to go.” I hang up and rush outside to hail a cab.
Suddenly, a Bugatti Bolide comes to a screeching halt next to the sidewalk.
I gape as Sophia emerges from it, her brown eyes zeroed in on me.
“Hi,” I say stupidly.
“Hi,” she replies.
“I’m sorry,” we say in unison, and then we just stand there, staring at each other.
The way my heart is hammering in my chest, you’d think I’ve just gone through the whole rink on a single breath and scored a goal. What is Sophia thinking? Is her mind in the same kind of turmoil as mine?
I clear my throat. “Ladies first? Or is it more gentlemanly for me to explain myself?”
She swallows. “I’m not sure where to even start.”
“Well, I do.” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I was threatening Abigail’s dream job. I would never do that, no matter what happens to the team, or between us.”
Sophia bites her lip. “I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t think you would… after I gave it a second of thought, that is. That’s just not like you.”
“Thank you.”
I’m not even sure if I agree that getting the team no matter the cost is “not like me.” It’s just that I wouldn’t do something like that if Sophia was in any way involved.
“You’re welcome.” She steps closer. “I shouldn’t have run from the cruise. And I should’ve told you about Rupert—or at least said something like, ‘I had a shitty long-term relationship and don’t want to talk about it.’”
When I hear the fucker’s name, my fists clench and unclench, a gesture she clearly notices, judging by the way her gaze flicks to my hands.
I do my best to relax them. “I understand why you didn’t.” At least I think I do. “He hurt you.”
“It’s not just that. I was stupid. And gullible. I let myself be used and?—”
I clasp her shoulders. “You don’t have to go into it right now if you don’t want to,” I say softly. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready. Or not tell me at all. It’s up to you.”
And what she says or doesn’t say will determine just how many of the fucker’s bones I will break. But that’s a decision for later.
Her eyes gleam brighter. “Okay. But again, I am sorry. And I shouldn’t have assumed the worst of?—”
I stop her with a kiss. One that continues in the elevator to my apartment and culminates in a long, steamy session in my bedroom.
We’re still wrapped around each other when a jungle creature pounces on my feet and nibbles playfully on my toes.
“Spike!” I say sternly, untangling myself from Sophia to sit up and give my cat a glare.
He gives me the most innocent look ever and strolls over the blankets to Sophia to give her chin a furry rub—the ultimate feline complement. Grinning, she pets him, and a rush of warm emotions overwhelms me.
This feels so right, having her here at my place, playing with my cat in my bed. This is where she belongs… with me. Forever.
Sophia is still petting Spike when her gaze catches mine, her expression peculiarly uncertain. “So… there’s something you said in Jamaica that I wanted to talk to you about… That, and when you said that there was something between us. Something real. Something special.”
My heart picks up its pace again. “You mean when I told you how I feel about you?”
She sucks in a breath. “So… you were talking to me ?”
I stare at her. “Who else?”
She shrugs, Socrates and Plato bobbing up and down so temptingly that Uber receives a fresh surge of blood. “You did telepathically communicate with a dolphin earlier that very day.”
Did I? Oh, shit. I guess I did. Like that one amazing idea I had that day, the dolphin telepathy totally slipped my mind. But not my declaration to Sophia.
That I would never forget.
“I was definitely talking to you,” I say as Spike loses interest in us in favor of sharpening his claws on my pillow. Chunks of memory foam fly my way, but I ignore them because Sophia’s eyes shine brighter at my words.
“So it wasn’t the pot talking?” she confirms.
“Definitely not.”
She bites her lip, tempting me again. “And now that the team is yours, do you feel the same way?”
I clasp her hands in mine. “Yes, Ladybug. I love you. I love you more with each passing day. I love you more than I could ever love a dolphin. Or a killer whale, which, according to a nature documentary I saw recently, is actually a type of dolphin.”
She grins. “Me too. I love you, that is. And no dolphin can compare to you either. Not even a dolphin who happens to be a philosopher. Or a Viking. But if I ever met a Viking philosopher dolphin, then?—”
I silence her with another kiss.