49. Simone #3
I stare at him, and my chest squeezes so hard it almost makes me angry.
Because I want him to be okay. I want him to be better.
And I hate that I want it. Hate that I want to be beside him through it.
It makes me feel stupid and soft and like Tyler didn’t break me as much as I thought he did.
Because apparently, I’m still the kind of girl who wants to lay herself down to keep other people warm.
We pull up in front of my dorm, and he puts the car in park. Neither of us moves at first.
Then he finally turns to look at me. “I missed you.”
That’s all it takes; that’s all he has to say to wiggle his way back into my heart.
“I missed you, too.”
I see his shoulders drop a little in relief, and his expression looks like he’s trying not to get emotional hearing that I don’t hate him like he probably thought.
I reach over and rest my hand on his arm. He stills at the contact and then looks up into my eyes.
“All I’ve thought about for the last seventy-eight days,” he says quietly, “was how much I missed having you in my arms and kissing you.”
My stomach flips again, and this time it’s from butterflies. Geez, I hate how quickly my body betrays me sometimes.
I swallow, saying screw my own rules. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His mouth quirks up. It’s not fully a smirk, but the ghost of one. It’s sexy and undoes me embarrassingly fast. He doesn’t overthink it. He just reaches over, cups my face, and kisses me. It’s everything I’ve missed and more. And it’s the first time I’m kissing sober him…
I let that sink in, and my heart feels more full than I ever thought it could.
It also feels scared. This kiss feels like he’s letting me taste the truth with every swipe of his tongue and every movement of his lips.
My hands slide into his hair, and I feel the tremble in my own fingers like my body is finally getting the fix my brain has been denying it.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine for a second. “You get to call the shots here,” he whispers. “I just…I want to be around you. Only you.”
That’s all I want too. But I know it isn’t smart. Not yet. Not when I’m still healing from a heartbreak, and not when he’s still healing from—
Hell, from a lifetime of pain.
I pull back just enough to look at him. “Mason…”
His eyes search mine like he’s bracing for the rejection.
“I don’t think either of us is ready to actually…
date,” I say, and it hurts because I can see the way it hurts him.
“Not because I don’t care, or because I don’t want you in my life.
” His jaw clenches, but he nods, accepting that.
I keep going because if I stop, I’ll cave and screw this up for the both of us.
“Tyler messed with my head more than I like to admit. I’m still trying to… trust my own judgment again.”
Mason’s throat bobs as he swallows down the disappointment. Then he forces his voice to be steady…for me. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He nods again. “Yeah. I get it.”
“But…I don’t want you gone,” I tell him softly, keeping my eyes on his. “And I don’t want anyone else.” I see hope flicker behind his eyes for a moment. “I don’t want us to be strangers,” I whisper. “I just…need time. I need you to keep doing what you’re doing. For you. Not for me.”
He watches me, weighing that. “I can do that.”
“Promise?”
“I promise I’ll try.”
I lean in and press my lips to his cheek, quick and soft, because I don’t trust myself to do more without falling apart and giving in to every reckless thing I want right now.
“I’ll see you around, Playboy,” I whisper.
His lips twitch up with a small smile. “I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”
I go to open the door, and he pulls me back to him, surprising me by kissing me again. It makes my brain go silent, and my body light up. I fully give in and press myself closer, needing more of him, needing the reassurance that he needs me in the same way I’m starting to desperately need him.
“You’re trouble,” I say against his lips.
“So are you,” he whispers back. “Now don’t put your hand back on that door again.”
He doesn’t say anything else before getting out, rounding the car, and opening my door.
I step out, and he pulls me into a hug.
“I promise I’m doing this for myself,” he says against my hair. “But you should know you’re a big reason I finally had the confidence to do it.” I don’t say anything, because I can’t. The emotions are too thick in my throat. “Thank you…for being…you,” he tells me, backing away.
We just stare at each other for a moment, the streetlights lighting us both up in the dark. I take in every perfect feature of his, proud to call him my friend.
And maybe more one day.
One day.
Maybe one day.
“Goodnight,” I tell him quietly, finally getting my voice back.
“Goodnight, Simone.”
He walks backwards around his car, never taking his eyes off of me until he opens his door and gets in.
The car starts up, and then his passenger window rolls down. “I can’t leave until I see that you’ve gotten in safely.”
I bite back a grin and turn to walk inside.
“Yes, sir,” I call back over my shoulder, smiling at him.