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Slowly, painstakingly, his heartbeat returned to normal. When at last he felt calm, he opened his eyes.
The tree loomed in front of him, even closer than he realized. He stared at the rough, icy bark, the color washed out in the harsh light of his high beams, only an inch or two from the front bumper of his car. If he’d still been going ninety...
Jesus. He’d probably be dead.
His heart pounded against his ribs again at the thought. He had no idea how much time passed before he managed to put his car in reverse and move back onto the road. It could’ve been seconds or minutes. All he knew was he needed to return to the Manor.
After making a U-turn in the middle of the road, he started back the way he came, sticking to the speed limit and analyzing the asphalt for any more black ice. He didn’t stop white knuckling the steering wheel until he parked back in the Manor lot.
With a few slow, deep breaths, he climbed out of the car and headed inside. Though his feet wanted to take him anywhere else, he forced them to carry him across the lobby, through the dining room, and to the swinging door.
Addison froze when he entered, staring at him like a deer in headlights. None of the food littering the kitchen island while he fucked her remained. She had a wad of paper towels in one hand and a bottle of cleaner in the other. Moving his gaze up to her eyes, he opened his mouth and closed it, not yet sure what to say.
She didn’t give him the chance to figure it out. “Are you okay?”
The genuine concern in her voice shocked him. So much so that all he managed was an incredibly debonair and articulate, “Huh?”
Dropping the towels and cleaner to the countertop, she crossed the kitchen, staring up into his face with a frown. “You look pale, and your pupils are dilated.” Her hand darted up to touch his forehead, then to rest briefly against his cheek, surprising him yet again. “You feel clammy. Come over here and sit down.”
Before he knew what was happening, she tugged him to a round, marble-topped table in the corner by the back door. Pulling out one of the gray upholstered chairs, she pushed down on his shoulder until he sat, then bustled around the kitchen at top speed. Only a few minutes passed before two steaming mugs of tea sat atop the table, and she dropped into the chair across from him, trying to hide her wince.
“I didn’t know how you took it,” she said, gesturing to the cream, milk, and assorted types of sugar in the middle of the table.
He drank coffee normally, the stronger the better. He could see how his usual double espresso would maybe be a shit idea at the moment, though. “This is perfect,” he told her, blowing on the tea and taking a tiny, scalding sip. “Thank you.”
With a little smile, she added a single sugar cube to her own cup, stirring it in with a teaspoon. “The Brits think tea is the answer to every problem, right? Seemed like it was worth a try.”
He did his best to return the smile, though he knew it came out more like a grimace. “It certainly can’t hurt.”
They sipped their tea in silence for a while, both pulling pained faces the first several times, until the liquid finally cooled to a reasonable temperature. Addison waited until after her first proper gulp of tea before asking, “What’s wrong? I hope this isn’t because of what happened between us.”
For a moment, he considered changing the subject. He wasn’t really one to talk to others when things went wrong in his life—particularly not to near strangers. The earnestness in her eyes, combined with the warmth of the cup between his hands, changed his mind. “I almost crashed my car into a tree about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered. Her eyes were so wide, he could see the whites all the way around her irises. “Are you okay?”
“No damage to me or the car,” he assured her. “I guess I’m just still coming down off the adrenaline rush.”
She slumped back in her chair, a hand over her heart. “Fuck me, that must’ve been terrifying. What happened?”
Again, he hesitated. It wasn’t any of her business how he got himself into that mess. But for the second time, he found the words spilling out of him before long. “I was upset and driving like an idiot,” he admitted. “I’ve lived in New England long enough to know better.”
“Ice?” Addison asked, sympathy in her green-blue eyes.
Mason nodded. “Luckily, I slowed down right before I hit the ice. If I hadn’t...” They shuddered at the exact same time. “I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened.”
“I’m sorry I upset you that much.” Her voice was so soft, so small, and she stared down at the half-empty cup between her hands.
“I was upset at myself, not you,” he assured her.
Only her eyes lifted, the rest of her locked in place.
“What I did before—I shouldn’t have ever—I mean, without even discussing...” He let the jagged sentence trail off, unable to organize his thoughts into proper words.
One corner of her mouth lifted into the tiniest hint of a smile. “You can’t possibly tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.”
He let out something halfway between a sigh and a dark chuckle. “I’m not gauche enough to tell that lie.”
“Then aside from having to start my scones over from scratch,” she said with a little, one-shouldered shrug, “I fail to see a problem here.”
