Page 73 of A Little More Hope

He took forever, and I knew he was hanging onto his last thread of sanity, but eventually, he stood in front of me, close enough to touch.

“You left,” I stated, instantly annoying myself for going straight to the hurt he’d caused by his departure but unable to stop for some reason.

“I came back,” he replied solemnly. More people squeezed past us, causing him to flinch, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain his control for much longer.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere a bit quieter.”

“No,” he replied firmly. “I came here to see you, to be with you and your friends.” He gazed earnestly in my face. “If you’ll let me?”

A tumult of emotions warred within me. But above all, I appreciated just how big a deal this was for him to walk into town on his own, let alone step inside a crowded bar. He’d hurt me. A bone-deep crushing pain that had seared into my soul. But the deeper pain that had sliced right through my heart was he didn’t trust me, and as long as I kept in mind how his rejection had made me feel, still made me feel, I maybe, probably, could cope. If I communicated that clearly to him, make him see the damage he’d caused us, well, we’d see where we went from there.

“Okay. But, Mason—” I waited until I had his full attention. “—it doesn’t change anything.”

“Not yet,” he answered cryptically. “Now, please, can we go and sit down somewhere I can have my back to a wall and everyone else is at least six feet away because I’m really close to losing my shit.”

I maneuvered in front of him, allowing him to get behind me. He stayed close, his hands at my waist burning a hole through my sides, scorching the skin, as I lead him over to where we were sitting.

“You made it.” Gabe said amiably to his friend, like this wasn’t a big deal for Mason. My teeth ground tightly together at his statement, to prevent the curse forming on my lips from spitting out. Mason must have told him he’d been planning to come here tonight, and he’d kept the information to himself. He undoubtedly reclaimed the position of Grade-A asshole again, in my opinion.

Mason’s tight smile gave away his continued anxiety at being trapped with too many people, so I scooted us all around, enabling him to face out of the booth with the wall behind him. Me on one side of him and Gabe the other, my friends were pushed to the outside. The seating situation wasn’t lost on me. I’d become so wrapped up in Mason he’d consumed pretty much all my life. I’d relegated my friends to the sidelines, which had become unacceptable. They were a big part of my life, and another item on the growing list of things Mason and I needed to discuss if we were ever to have a chance to get whatever this was we had between us up and running.

Gabe and Flynn continued with their conversation as did Cam and Sawyer, leaving me and the man, who’d given my heart more than one battering in the last few days, in an awkward silence sandwiched together, the heat from his body burning into mine. Curling my left hand into a fist once more, I resisted the urge to place my palm on Mason’s leg and slide my fingers along his thigh to rest at the juncture of his hips and crotch like I’d done so many times before.

Now what?

I had to do something to ease the tension tightening like a noose around my throat.

“It must have taken a lot of courage to come in here,” I said, breaking the silence. There, a safe topic focused on Mason and not me.

His expression turned grim. “I’ve been pacing out by the harbor for nearly an hour, working up the courage.”

“Why?” A simple enough question, but one holding a whole world of importance. “Why put yourself through all this?” I gestured at the crowds. “If you wanted to see me, why not wait until I came back to the beach house?”

I had to lean in when he spoke as his answer came out so low and quiet. “Because being without you was killing me, and I couldn’t wait a second longer than I already had to see you again.”

The guy must have a never-ending supply of tug-at-my-heartstrings comments filed away ready to bring the perfect one out at exactly the right time to make the most impact.

“Do you have a list of those?”

He frowned. “A list?”

“A list of phrases to make me waver?”

His pleased expression removed all traces of his previous fear at being here. “You’re wavering?”

I didn’t want to incriminate myself further by responding. “You know you could’ve seen me anytime you wanted to,” I pointed out instead.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’d have let me see you? Speak to you?”

Okay, he had a point.

“So, you what, decided to ambush me here instead?”

“No! God, no, that wasn't my intension at all.”

“So?”

His fingers raked through the thick, dirty blond hair I loved, the action releasing his tempting citrus and woodsy fragrance. I inhaled deeply, taking him in, remembering he’d smelled the same when I’d woken in his arms a few days ago.

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