Page 35 of The Golden Hour

“Your face,” she sobbed. “Mason, your face⁠⁠—”

“I don’t care about my face,” Mason said, shaking his head. “Where does it hurt? Your ankle?”

Honey nodded after a moment of hesitation, but Mason didn’t hesitate. He scooped her in his arms and started walking toward the exit. He had no idea where Eric was; all he could think about was getting Honey to safety.

“Carpenter, where are you going?” Coach Mallory yelled at him.

Without breaking stride, he tossed over his shoulder. “The nurse!”

Nurse Freeman jumped out of her seat when she saw them walk in together, guiding Mason to place Honey down on one of the beds. She poked and prodded at the ankle for a bit, and Mason felt his jaw tighten with every wince and flash of pain on Honey’s face.

Once she confirmed that Honey’s ankle was sprained, she told Mason to stay put so she could check on his face, then went off to call Honey’s parents and his own.

Tears tracked steadily down Honey’s cheeks, but it had nothing to do with her ankle, which Mason held an ice pack to.

She was fretting over his face.

“I’m fine, baby,” Mason assured her, pressing a kiss to her hand in his.

“I was so scared,” Honey sniffed, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of her hand.

“You don’t have to be scared of Eric,” Mason growled. “He will never fucking touch you ever again. I promise.”

Honey shook her head.

“No, I wasn’t scared of Eric. I was scared…” Her face collapsed. “You could have gotten really hurt, Mason. Because of me. Look at your face.”

He knew it was bruised. He tasted metal, so he knew his lip was split. His nose throbbed every time he breathed. But all he could see was Honey falling. It set his fucking chest on fire, the image of her small body being shoved by Eric as if she were a grown man. Fucking cowards hit women.

He would face a thousand Eric Prestons if it kept her safe.

“You are worth it,” Mason said, leaving the ice pack on her ankle and cradling her face in his hands. “You are worth everything, Honey. I’m okay.”

Her chin wobbled. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he grinned, before clearing his throat. “Now, let Dr. Carpenter take a look.”

Honey’s worried face softened into a smile.

“Ah, there she is.” Mason felt his own smile widen. “There’s my pretty girl.”

Honey gestured toward her ankle. “Please proceed with your expertise.”

Mason winked before he gently lifted the ice pack, grimacing as anger rose once more at the mottled, swollen skin.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” Honey sighed dramatically.

“Hm… based on the swelling, the bruising… I have to concur with Nurse Freeman’s diagnosis. Definitely sprained,” Mason tsked. “I’m going to recommend a princess treatment plan.”

Honey giggled. “Princess treatment plan?”

“Mhm,” Mason nodded, pompous. “Includes letting your boyfriend—that’s me—carry you around to keep off these precious feet while you heal. As well as letting him buy you all the ice cream you want.”

“But I already get ice cream for free from the shop,” Honey pointed out.

Mason easily recovered, waving a hand. “Then all the candy that you want.”

Honey smiled, gently brushing a hand down his bruised cheek, and he felt himself leaning into it. If he looked in the mirror, he could probably see the hearts in his eyes with how her touch always affected him.