Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jennifer
Iwake with a start, my eyes blinking several times to take in my surroundings.
My apartment. It’s still somewhat light out, though it’s fading into night.
I drop back to the cushion, my eyes drifting shut again.
After Mase left earlier, I finished all the food, drank my tea, then laid on the couch, scrolling on my phone until I dozed off.
I should get up and get groceries, maybe tidy up my apartment, do laundry, make some more cookies, anything other than lay around wasting away more of the day than I already have.
A loud knock on the door startles me again.
Was that what woke me in the first place?
I spring up from the couch a little too quickly, taking a second to adjust to being upright, then go check the front door for the second time today.
After looking through the peephole, I swing the door open. “Hey, Clint. What, ah . . .what can I do for you?”
He stands there with his arms folded, dressed in his standard Budz! T-shirt over a long-sleeved shirt, faded baggy jeans, and blue beanie pulled over his messy blond hair. He rarely wears a winter jacket, even in the colder months.
Looking past my shoulder, he shakes his head, mumbling something while rubbing at his perpetual stubble. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a fucking leak?”
Surprised, I follow his line of sight. “Oh, I . . . I didn’t want to bother you. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal? Your fucking boyfriend came downstairs and blasted me for not fixing it already.”
“What?”
Boyfriend?
“I don’t—” I cut myself off.
Oh god. Mase.
He went and talked to my landlord about my problem when it has nothing to do with him. My blood rushes through my veins while rising in temperature.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I inform him. “And I didn’t know he was going to come down there.”
“Yeah, well, he did.” Clint gestures to the ceiling. “And that doesn’t look like nothing. Let me see it.” I step back, not bothering to argue when he’s already pissed.
Clint isn’t a bad guy, but truth be told, even if I had told him about the leak, it may have taken him weeks before he came to check it out. Him being here now speaks more about the fear Mase must have put into him.
Standing under the brown stain, he inspects the newly forming cracks, and my setup underneath. It rained two days ago, and it has been slowly leaking ever since.
“You’re going to have to leave for a few days while I have people come and cut this open.”
“Leave? Wh-where am I supposed to go?”
“I don’t know,” he replies distractedly while pulling out his phone and typing something.
“But figure it out quickly. By tomorrow if you can.” Lifting his phone to his ear, he walks back to the door and opens it, glancing back at me.
“And maybe next time just talk to me instead of siccing your guy on me.”
“I didn—” The door closes, cutting me off, and I let out an annoyed huff. “I didn’t.”
Heart pounding and fists clenched, I march into my bedroom to get dressed.
*~*~*~*~*
I approach the gym; my chaotic thoughts and emotions no more under control than they were when Clint left my apartment. I thought getting off the bus two stops earlier and walking the extra blocks in the cool air would simmer down some of my annoyance, but it didn’t.
Mase is near the entrance, talking to a teenage boy with dirty blond hair, when I enter.
Surprise, then the start of a smile curls his lips when he first notices me, but it quickly dissolves when he observes the barely contained irritation on my face.
“I’ll catch you next week, Zach,” he tells the boy, clapping him on his arm, his attention quickly switching to me.
I watch as Zach leaves with a woman I didn’t even notice, who I’m guessing is his mother.
“I didn’t think you’d end up coming again.”
Does he actually think I’m here for his class after what he did?
“You had no right,” I say through gritted teeth, quietly, so as not to draw attention.
Mase has the nerve to look perplexed at first, but he must realize exactly what I’m talking about a moment later, because he gestures for me to follow him into the gym.
We end up in a small room that looks like an office, with a coffee-colored desk sitting on one side, a matching-colored cabinet beside it, and chairs on either side of the desk.
Closing the door behind me, he walks to the desk, takes a drink from the water bottle sitting on top of it, then faces me again, perching on the edge. “Is this about your landlord? Who, by the way, didn’t seem to know you had a leak.”
Emotions bubble to the surface. “Yes, it’s about my landlord. How dare you go and speak to him.”
“I was trying to help.”
His voice, so calm and quiet, only heightens my irrational bubbling anger.
“I didn’t ask for your fucking help!”
Nostrils flaring, he grips the edge of the desk.
“No, Jayne, you didn’t. You never seem to ask anyone for help, and that’s part of the problem.
You let yourself be treated like shit and just sit there, taking it.
I don’t understand it, but I just wanted to make sure this one thing could be done for you. ”
“Did you ever think that maybe I’m okay with the way things are?”
Lies.
And he obviously knows it because he scoffs. “You’re okay with things as they are?”
“Yes! And now I have to find somewhere to stay while he gets it fixed.”
Mase pauses for a brief second, clearly not expecting that. “I have an extra bedroom in my apartment.”
My mouth parts. “Are you serious right now?!” I pace a few steps, heart thundering against my rib cage, guilt and low self-worth piling onto my shoulders, disguising themselves as rage.
Turning back again, I glare at him. “Why do you keep doing this? Forcing your way into my life, insisting on walking me home, trying to look after me, and making my life better. Why? What does it matter to you? Why do you fucking care? Why—”
“Because my mother was fucking assaulted!” Mase pushes to his full height, and my mouth snaps shut.
“She was brutally raped and left for dead. I know what it did to her, and she didn’t have anyone there for her, so it hits fucking close to home, okay?
And I just . . . I just had this need to help you since you had the same thing happen, and by someone who was my friend.
” A harsh breath releases through his nose. “Is that so fucking bad?”
Horrified.
Ashamed.
More things to add to my list.
I’m stunned silent, watching his jaw clench and unclench with that truth revealed.
My chest is cracked, heart pulverized, every ounce of false anger drained out of me, making room for the pure devastation hearing about his mother causes.
I feel my lip quiver, and my eyes fill with tears. Too many emotions fill me at once.
Some of the pieces of his personality and behavior click into place: the reason he cares so much, the reason he does self-defense classes for women, and even his aspirations of opening a place for women in the future.
I’ve been a selfish bitch thinking only about what his help has done to me, and not what it might mean to him.
I was never really angry with him. I was angry with myself for allowing him to be the speck of light in my otherwise dark world, and I wanted him gone because I didn’t want him gone.
This information alters things.
His poor mother. Just the thought of her having gone through it as well breaks my heart.
Lowering my head, I let the first tear spill over. “I’m so sorry.”
Mase releases a puff of air, running a hand over his face. “Shit. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.”
I shake my head, more tears falling, one after the other. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Moving to stand in front of me, he tips my chin up, those dark orbs swimming with concern and pity for my pathetic self. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. I’m just trying to help you, okay? I know it was a long time ago, but I still care.”
“Okay,” I whisper, all the fight having left me with a feeling of defeat in its place.
“And I meant what I said about the extra bedroom. Just stay there while they fix your roof.”
“Okay,” I answer again, feeling helpless.
Mase makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Come here.” He pulls me in for an awkward hug, like he’s not used to them.
For some reason, it makes me cry harder being held by him, feeling so secure wrapped in his warmth, his strength.
He squeezes me tighter in response, his body melding into the hug as he pets my back.
I’m such an emotional mess. Twice in as many days, he’s seen me at low points, and instead of ditching me, he’s offered me a place to stay and a hug.
I don’t remember the last time someone hugged me. I haven’t wanted to be touched by anyone.
My eyes open at that, tears gradually slowing as I blink and think that over. I haven’t wanted to be touched, yet I’m happy Mase is holding me. In fact, it hasn’t bothered me any time his hands have been on me. I only flinched because he grabbed my fresh cuts.
God, I was even comfortable enough with him to fall asleep while he was still inside my home last night.
Breaths loosening, I start actually paying attention to the things directly surrounding me.
Like how thick his tattooed arm looks in front of my face.
How solid his chest feels under my head, and how fast his heart is beating.
The feel of his strong hand rubbing up and down my back.
The scent of his spicy bodywash and the clean sweat that engulfs me.
And the heat radiating from his skin that’s sinking into my bones.
Suddenly, those things are all I seem to notice, and I can feel my cheeks getting warm at the sensations traveling through me.
Pulling back, I wipe at my cheeks, then clear my throat while trying to avoid eye contact. “Is your mom okay now?”
“Yeah.” With a backward step, he widens the space between us, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, she has a rare neurological disease, so she lives in an assisted living facility here in the city, but um, yeah, most days she’s okay.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
His shoulders lift like they’re still weighed down. “It’s pretty shitty, but overall, I think she’s happy.”
Finding a loose thread on the cuff of my sweater, I start twisting it between my fingers. “I can imagine you’ve been a big help to her.”
His caregiving nature is evident in everything he’s done for me. It’s obvious he would be ten times as caring toward her.
A curve of his lips. “I don’t know what gave you that impression.”
I can’t help the smallest of smiles touching my lips as I look away, suddenly feeling shy. What is wrong with me?
I tug on the thread some more, causing the cuff to rub over the tender flesh on my wrist, and the sting of it is enough to bring me back to reality. The smile falls from my face, the warm feeling in my chest cooling. “I should let you get back to work.”
Mase checks his watch. “There might be a few ladies here for tonight’s class already. Why don’t you come with me and join in?”
I open my mouth to tell him no, but he sees the refusal before I’ve said anything, and his face smooths into something softer, something I’m finding harder to resist.
“Come on, I’m sure you don’t have anywhere else to be tonight. And after class, we can discuss when you need to be out of your place.”
I cross my arms, trying to build myself up again. “That’s a little presumptuous. What if I had a date or something?”
His expression remains the same, but a single brow rises.
Okay, so he’s observed my life enough to know that a date isn’t happening.
“I need to leave my apartment by tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Running his hand through his dark locks, he nods. “We’ll figure out the time after the class is done.”
I want to say no . . . about the class, and about staying with him, but instead, I find myself being pulled further into his orbit.
I agree, then follow him out of the office to greet the other women.