He lifts me down gently and pushes me against the wall again. He places his arms on either side of me—his fingertips resting lightly on my head. He does this when he’s trying to get me to conform to his way of thinking—like he’s attempting a Vulcan mind meld.
“Millie. I don’t want to have this argument again, but will you please stop showering outside when I’m not here? Please. Just rinse off the sand and go inside to take your full shower.”
I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him. “Mase, you’ve got to back off a little. We’ve talked about this. Between you and Chase, you’re smothering me. I love you. But I took care of myself pretty well for twenty-five years.”
He releases me and backs away as he pulls his pants up. “Eight years. You took care of yourself for eight years. Your dad took care of you before that, and Chase would have taken care of you those eight years if you wouldn’t have been playing hide-and-seek with him.” He nods his head as he grabs my towel off the hook and throws it to me. “Yeah. He told me how you unsuccessfully tried to shake him for all those years. I will go to my grave not understanding why you put up such a resistance to people trying to take care of you.”
A chill runs through me as I hastily wrap myself in the towel. “Okay, first, I’m not really liking the bromance you and Chase have started. Stop talking to him about me. It makes me uncomfortable. And second—again—I don’t need you or Chase to take care of me. I appreciate it. But I don’t need it. You’ve got to start trusting me to take care of myself. Then what you offer can be an added bonus.”
“Millie. God. I don’t want to argue about this again,” he says, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. “You know who I am. You know what I do for a living. I protect people. It’s my job. I’m trying really hard to crank it down when I’m with you, but it’s never going to go away completely. You can’t get frustrated with me for being who I am.”
I take a deep, cleansing breath and start toward the door. “I need to get dressed.”
“Mills.” He catches me by the arm and turns me back around to him.
“Mase. I don’t want to argue about this, either. Can we just drop it? I’m not mad. I know you’re working on it. And I know it’s not easy. I appreciate the effort. Really, I do.”
I smile weakly at him. He lets go of my arm. “Okay.” He sighs as he turns toward the kitchen. “We’re supposed be at the bar in an hour. Do you still want to go?”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
I shut the bedroom door and slide down it until I’m curled up in a ball at the bottom. These past two months with Mason have been the most exhilarating days of my life. The way I love him makes me feel crazy. He fills me so full of emotion that most of the time I feel like an overly full balloon about to burst.
That’s a good thing, right?