Page 79 of Word to the Wise

“I figured.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What did I say about being sorry?”

My shoulders deflate. “I’m not saying I’m using you intentionally—or that I even am—because I don’t want to be, Mason. But I’m also still sorting through a lot of crap. Everything’s so mixed up; I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. You’re giving it all up for me, and I’m not even sure what I can offer you at the end of this.”

Mason looks into my eyes, and I feel myself on the verge of crying. It burns my throat as I choke it back. If I was smart, I’d let myself fall for him. Mason is the kind of man who can love a girl right. Without fear. Without pain.

But he’s the type of man who deserves a girl with a whole heart to give, not whatever shattered mess is beating inside me.

A tear slips down my cheek, and he cups my face in his hands, wiping it away with his thumb. His blue eyes trace every line of my face.

“I’m not going anywhere, Reed. And I know it’s selfish, and probably stupid, to want you when you’re going through everything you are right now. But like I said, you’re worth it. Even if in the end you decide I’m not.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he plants his thumb over my lips. It’s still wet with my tears, and the salty taste of our truths strike my tastebuds.

“I don’t need your reassurance right now.” He shakes his head. “Just let me be here for you.”

He pulls his hand away, and I should tell him he’s worth it too—because he is. Mason is worth so much more than anyone in his life has given him credit for.

But instead of admitting that truth, I lift my chin and pull him down for a kiss. And I’m thankful he lets that be enough. Because if I thought breaking was the hard part, I was wrong. Healing the wounds is so much worse.

25

Reed

“There you are.” Masonpeeks his head out the slider that leads to the courtyard.

“Hi, sleepyhead.” I smile at him.

Shortly after our early dinner, Mason fell asleep on the couch. I had too much on my mind to rest my eyes, so the moment the sun started to set, I slipped into my pajamas and made my way into the courtyard to stare out at the desert.

It’s warmer than I’m used to in LA, but not too hot now that the sun has set, and there’s something about staring out at the open desert that is relaxing. It’s why I love the many windows lining the walls.

Mason’s house might not be that big, but it definitely costs a fortune. He explained that the only reason he’s able to have so many windows in the desert is that they have special tinting and UV protection that keeps the Vegas heat out while letting the light in.

But now that the sun has set, the desert is cooler, and I’m enjoying the night air.

“Sorry I passed out on you.” Mason steps out into the courtyard.

“No worries. Long day, I get it.”

“It’s nice out here, right?”

I tip my head back and look at the stars already starting to form in the sky. I’m used to San Francisco and LA, where light pollution drowns out anything above us. But here, in the middle of the desert, the night is clear, and the stars are endless, like they are on the Twisted Kings compound.

“It’s beautiful.” I close my eyes and take a long inhale through my nose.

Desert air. Warmth. Mason’s shampoo from his shower earlier. All calming things surround me.

When I open my eyes, Mason’s standing over me, looking up at the sky like I was. The glow of the night defines his strong jaw. His dark tattoos stand out on his skin, and I reach up to trace the design that runs from his hand up his forearm.

He glances down at where my fingers trail over him. “That was my first one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sienna designed it for me. She was an artist.” He smiles, even if it’s a little sad. “And she was a much better one than I am. Do you see that painting above the couch?”

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