Page 60 of A Little More Hope

Well, shit.

“Just so you know,” I gritted out, my fists bunching at my sides, refusing to touch him and help relieve his tension. Frantic eyes landed on mine, pleading, silently telling me how frightened he was as more and more people moved around us. He’d lose the battle any second if I didn’t get him out of here.

He needed my help but the thought of physically touching him, feeling the strength of his grip against my palm, knowing it would be the last time we connected sent hurt and anguish flooding through my body. Yet, if I didn’t take hold of him, he’d fly apart at the seams. If there were any other way to get him to move, I’d have taken it in a heartbeat, but I could tell he was already past the point of rational thinking, and I had to be the one to take the lead.

With my body shaking from the effort to hold in my emotions, I stretched out my arm, took his hand, and curled his cold and clammy fingers around mine. They fit so perfectly, entwined around my own. We fit so perfectly together. It cut me to the core I’d never be the one he’d choose a forever with. But despite knowing my future held a whole load of pain without him, I couldn’t leave without saying what was in my heart, and I lost the struggle to contain the words I so desperately wanted to say and for him to hear.

“I love you, Mason.”

He would never say the words back, and I didn’t expect him to. After all, one had to trust someone before they’d ever be able to love them, right?

The shock on his face nearly made me laugh, and I might have if my heart hadn’t been turned into a block of ice. “It’s fine you don’t feel the same way, and the words don’t hold any meaning anyway, not anymore. I wanted you to know, to tell you what you mean to me, and how much I trust you, even if you don’t trust me in return.” I tugged on his hand to get him moving toward the beach house steps. “You’re not ready. I get that. I do. And it makes me sad and angry to think you may never get back what you lost when all you need is to believe—in yourself, in me—to take the leap.”

We were silent all the way to his beach house. I headed straight to my bedroom and packed the few clothes I’d brought before heading to the living area where Gabe was nowhere to be seen, thank God. Let Mason explain to him what’d happened; they were close friends, after all, and he trusted him, didn’t he?

“Where are you going?” he asked, tension shading his voice.

“It’s time I left,” I said, “to go back home.”

“But the house is a mess, and there’s too much dust. You can’t.”

I tried to smile, failing abysmally. “There’s no point in staying with you. There’s nothing here for me is there? And more to the point, I don’t belong here anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just leave.”

Ridiculous? Anger again bubbled up inside me, and this time I saw no reason to hold back. “And why the hell not? My whole life people left me, walked away without a backward glance, not giving a shit about what happened to me—” I thumped my fist against my chest for emphasis. “—or how them leaving would make me feel.” I thumped again, harder this time. Snatching in a breath, I tried to calm down but only succeeded in making myself angrier. “All these years, I thought I wasn’t good enough. The reason everyone left was because something had to be wrong with me.” I thumped my chest again, harder still. “I believed it was always my fault. I lacked the ability to keep them around. I wasn't funny enough, or interesting enough, or attractive enough. I wasn’t boyfriend material. I had too many issues, too much baggage or whatever other crappy excuse I got when they left me, time after time.

“Well, no more. If I’m not good enough for anyone exactly as I am; if they don’t think enough of me to like me, love me, or even fucking trust me, they can just go fuck themselves.”

I forced some air into my too tight lungs. “This time, I’ll be the one leaving, the one moving on, making me happy from now on and not relying on anyone else to do it for me.

“Now it’s my turn. After everything we’ve been through together, if you don’t trust me enough not to hurt you, or to take care of you, to look out for you, to protect you, to love you, then that’s on you, Mason, not me.”

Gripping the bag firmly in my palm and grabbing the keys from the counter, I stormed out of the house, then walked the short distance over to mine. The adrenaline of a few moments ago was already dropping as reaction set in. Fumbling the keys a few times, I barely found the lock as tears swam in my eyes, blurring my vision. Blinking them away, I shoved the key in and opened the door, hurried inside, and closed it firmly behind me. Dropping my bag and falling to the floor with it, I curled up in a ball and sobbed my heart out.

Chapter Nineteen

Mason

Staring at the empty space where Ash had stood, I strived to wrap my head around what had happened. Hadn’t it only been a few hours ago I lost my mind inside his incredible body, never wanting to leave? Instead, I’d told him the truth and driven him away.

What the hell was going on with me?

“That went well.” Gabe’s voice made me jump.

“Not now, Gabe. I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, what a fucking shame.”

I stalked up to him until we were inches apart, for once not finding his cocky attitude amusing. Instead, I wanted to punch him right in the face. “I said not now.”

I was too raw, too vulnerable, and far too ashamed to discuss anything about me and Ash. I needed to think rationally and to do that I had to calm down. My emotions were too all over the place to contemplate getting my head around what’d I’d done. So, the last thing I needed to do was lash out at Gabe and say something to him I’d regret later.

Gritting my teeth, I stalked off to my room instead.

*

Rubbing my gritty eyes, I checked the clock on the nightstand, wincing at the early hour. I’d tossed and turned all night, my mind going over and over our argument and how upset Ash had become—how upset I’d made him. Most of all, I kept hearing him tell me he loved me on a continual loop in my head.

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