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“I hated it,” I repeat, pulling away to look into Bexley’s tear-filled eyes. “But I would have hated it more if I’d left Las Vegas without Mase.”
“But you have to,” Bexley cries. “You have to go home, and Mase has to go to spring training. You can’t even be together.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “I’m not sure how, but if he loves me as much as he says, we’ll make it work.”
“How can you be so sure about him? He’s Mase Stirling. You know what they say about him.”
This time I laugh. “Do you believe everything they say about you and Grayson?” I ask.
Bexley shakes her head as she gazes at me with wonder. “Who are you?”
“Your best friend,” I tell her. “Through bad and good.”
“And you’re sure this is good?”
Before I respond, there’s a knock on the door. “Fee?” Mase says with concern. “I need to know you’re okay.”
Bexley rolls her eyes with a mock grimace and my heart lightens at the sight. “Come in, married man.”
Mase opens the door so fast that he practically falls in. His eyes track me, checking for tears, bad and good, and any signs of a panic attack.
He doesn’t say anything but I can tell. “How did it go?” I ask him, motioning to the faces I see in the sitting area, peering at us.
He gives me a discreet thumbs-up. “We’re waiting for y’all to finish and…” He trails off with a careful look at Bexley.
“For me to freak out again?” she asks.
“You were really mad,” I point out.
“You got marriedalone.”
“Uh, can I interject here?” Mase asks cautiously. “I was there. She had me. And she has me. I’ll take care of her, Bexley. I won’t let her get hurt.” He looks so earnest, so honest as he says this—aboutme—that my heart gives a painful thump. How can I love him like this so quickly?
How can he love me?
“You can’t promise that,” Bexley snaps.
But he does. Mase does love me. “I promise not to hurt her,” he says, turning to me with eyes shining. “At least not intentionally.”
“I know.” I smile at him, watching the dimple appear high on his cheek. “He’s a good guy, Bex,” I tell her.
She heaves a sigh. Close, but not there yet. Bexley has spent too many years looking after me to give up this quickly. “Do you love him?” she demands of me. “Do you really think it’s real love in a weekend?”
“Did you love Grayson at the end of the show?” I counter.
“That was twelve weeks.”
“Well, this was twelve hours.” I glance at Mase and he reaches for my hand. “I’m just a little faster than you.”
Mase
Bexleyfollowsusoutof the room, Fiona holding tight to my hand.
“I guess it’s okay,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically. “But if you hurt her—”
“I won’t.”
And then Bexley opens her arms and Fiona goes from me to her best friend. “I’m happy if you’re happy,” Bexley says in a husky voice.
