"I know." He shifts closer. His hands find both of mine. "But I want to go first because I need to say something, and if I wait any longer I'm going to lose the ability to form words."
"Okay."
He looks down at our hands. Swallows. When he looks back up, his eyes are full in a way that makes my chest ache.
"I've spent my whole life being careful with my emotions," he says. "And I brought that into everything. Every relationship I've had, I held something in reserve. Insurance, in case it fell apart. So I'd still have something left."
His thumbs stroke across my knuckles.
"With you, there's nothing in reserve. I'm ready to give you all of it. You just—you walked into this apartment with your oolong tea and I was done. I was done and I didn't even know it yet."
My throat is closing.
"I don't have a safety net with you, Beth." His voice cracks on my name. "And for the first time in my life, I don't want one."
"Mason—"
"I'm going to claim you now," he says, "if that's okay."
"It's very okay," I whisper.
He leans in. His lips brush the curve where my neck meets my left shoulder. I feel his breath, warm and unsteady, and his hands cradle the back of my head.
"I love you," he says against my skin. So quiet I almost miss it. The first time any of them have said it.
His teeth sink in.
The pain is bright and immediate and it lasts exactly one second before it becomes something else entirely. Somethingsnapsand Mason floods in.
Steady. That's the first thing I feel. A steadiness so deep it's geological, tectonic plates that have never shifted. But underneath that there's a tremor. Constant, low-frequency, barely perceptible. The fear of a man who has held himself together so carefully for so long that the prospect of letting go feels like freefall. And he's falling. Right now. For me. The terror and the joy of it braided together so tightly they're indistinguishable.
I feel his love like a hand pressed flat against my sternum.
When he pulls back, there's a mark on my neck that burns like a brand, and his eyes are wet.
"Oh," I say. Because I canfeelhim. Not just his hands on me or his scent in the air. I feel his heartbeat in my own chest, his relief flooding my nervous system like warm water.
"Yeah," he says, voice thick. "Oh."
I touch the mark. It's tender, warm and mine.
Knox is watching us with an expression I've never seen on him before. His jaw is tight..
"Knox," I say. I reach for him.
He takes my hand. Holds it. Doesn't move.
"How can you want me to claim you when I caused you so much trouble?" he asks. And as I look at his face, I see something I've never seen there before.
He's terrified.
"You want to know what actually happened because of what you did?" I say. "The buyout expired. And I realized I didn't want to sell. I never wanted to sell. I was just scared, and scared looked a lot like practical from the inside."
A heavy muscle works along his jaw as he stares down at our hands.
"And as for Beaumont Patisserie?" I step a fraction closer, forcing him to look at me. "You got my foot in the door, Knox. But I'm the one who's going to kick it wide open. I emailed them myself from the side of the highway. You didn't take my choices away, you just gave me the exact push I needed to finally start fighting for what's mine."
"So, Knox," I murmur, pulling gently on his hand. "Come here."
