Page 17 of The Only Reason (The Trident Trilogy 2)

I shake my head, hoping to clear the swirling tornado that’s rapidly forming. The shaking makes the tornado stronger. I try to stand up, but fall back against Mason’s legs.

“Mills. Settle down,” he says, steadying me. “We’re just having a conversation. Yeah. I want to get married and have kids, but I’m not saying it has to happen today. I know you didn’t grow up around happy marriages. Your dad was never married. Your grandma was never married. But people do have good marriages—a lot of people. Look at Chase and Mariel.”

“Mase, your first marriage ended in divorce.” I unsuccessfully try to stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

He stands up, pushing me up with him as he starts walking away. “Oh, so that’s what you’re worried about. You’re not worried about marriage in general. You’re worried about whether I can make a marriage work.”

“That’s not what I meant, Mason,” I say, following him toward the house.

He turns around. “What did you mean? Tell me exactly what you meant.”

“I meant what I said. I love you. But I’m not ready for marriage. And I’m definitely not ready for kids. And it doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about you. I’m sorry if you feel differently. Maybe I’ll change my mind, but I’m definitely not ready for that right now.”

“Fine. Let’s stop talking about it.”

I follow him into the house. “Mase. We can’t keep ignoring things we disagree on. We need to talk about this stuff. You completely shut down when you don’t get your way.”

“When I don’t get my way?” He whips around to face me. “I’m not a toddler throwing a tantrum because I can’t stay up a little later. I asked you to marry me and you said no.”

“Well, you didn’t actually ask me,” I say, laughing and trying desperately to lighten the mood.

“Oh. Okay.” He walks over to me swiftly, grabbing my hand and dropping down on one knee. “Will you marry me? There, I’ve officially asked you.”

“Mason. Stop. Why are you being like this?”

“I officially asked you. Now you have to officially answer.” He stands up and drops my hand. “Say no if you don’t want to marry me.”

“No, I don’t want to get married. And it has nothing to do with you. I just don’t want to get married.”

He shakes his head as he turns around. “I need to run some errands. And I think I’m going to stay at my place tonight.”

“Mason.” I make a feeble attempt to stop him from charging out of my house. The door closes loudly behind him. I turn around to look at the porch table—now cluttered with half-eaten burritos. I collapse against the wall, wondering how I got from wanting more guacamole to possibly ruining my entire future in less than five minutes.

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