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“I can’t do this,” I whisper-pant, pushing against his chest. We both lost control. The moment I see his sad expression, guilt pours over me, and I frown. “I’m so sorry, Mason. I just—”
“I know.” He cuts me off. “I know you’re not ready. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He swallows and brushes a hand through his hair.
I nod, taking a step back. “Good night, Mason.”
He sucks in his lower lip. “Good night, sweet Sophie.” He flashes a wink before turning around and heading upstairs.
I walk to my room and lean against the door. My heart gallops in my chest, and I close my eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Mason deserves to have more than just a sliver of me, and right now, my heart is still too shattered to give him anything.
Chapter Eleven
Mason
The past three weeks have been both interesting and strange. After that night when Sophie and I kissed, I’ve been careful to keep my distance and watch for her cues so I don’t overstep her boundaries.
After she said she wasn’t ready, I felt like the biggest asshole in the world. I shouldn’t have lost control, but it seemed right regardless of how wrong it was. It’s been difficult to keep my feelings closed up, but I know that’s what she needs right now. I think back to when I lost Emma and how I wanted to do nothing but sleep and drink the pain away. At least Sophie is functioning after what she went through. I’m trying to give her all the time she needs, even if that means I have to wait for years, because I will.
The timing has always been wrong for our relationship because when one of us is ready for more, the other isn’t. However, I refuse to give up on her, give up on us. The guilt of crossing the line with her has consumed me. Though I’ve apologized more than once, and she acts as if it’s no big deal, I know better.
I knew I had pushed her too far, too quickly, and immediately felt like a selfish bastard. But it’s hard not to be selfish when it comes to her.
A couple of weeks ago, I was offered the promotion, which has helped keep me busy. Most nights, I’m exhausted when I walk in the door. Even though I wish I was spending more time with her, it’s probably best that work distracts me for the time being.
Another early morning comes, and after I get ready for work, I head to the kitchen like always. Once the coffee finishes brewing, I pour myself a cup and make one for Sophie just the way she likes it, knowing she’ll be joining me soon. After my mug is half empty, I grab ingredients from the fridge and whip up some scrambled eggs and toast.
Like clockwork, Sophie shuffles into the kitchen. I look over my shoulder and watch as she sits at the table, immediately taking a sip of her drink. Her hair is a mess, and she offers me a sweet smile. My heart lurches forward anytime I look at her and have to remind myself to bury my feelings. Something I should be used to by now, considering I’ve been doing it for years.
Doesn’t mean it’s been easy. It’s been hard as fuck and having her in my house makes it even harder. Finally getting to a place we’ve both wanted and then having the rug pulled out from under us has brought an internal battle I wasn’t ready for.
“Morning,” she says.
Her morning voice is so damn sexy, and it makes me smile. “Morning. Sleep well?”
She shrugs, looking indifferent. “No worse than usual.”
I place the eggs and toast on two plates, set them on the table, then sit across from her. We don’t talk much in the mornings, but we don’t have to. I’m just happy to be around her and happy that she’s here with me. After we’re done eating, I clean up and rinse our dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.
“How’s work going?” she asks, more awake now.
“Great. Got a few cases to oversee, which is a nice change. Instead of doing the bitch work, I’m assigning it. Finally.” I laugh.
The sweet smile she gives me is everything. She may tell me she can’t, but her unspoken words tell me she still feels the same. It’s enough for me.
“Any big plans today?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.
“Just going to see my therapist for my weekly appointment. Might go grocery shopping so we aren’t always living on pizza and tacos.” She lets out a breath as if she’s nervous about going out in a public space. “Other than that, nothing much. Maybe read a book if I don’t fall asleep.”
“Do you think you’ll go back to work soon?” I ask. It’s the elephant in the room, and something she’s been avoiding for a while. I don’t want to force her into anything, but I know what playing the violin means to her. Plus, Lennon has been asking Hunter to ask me if Sophie’s been playing, and still, she hasn’t. The last time I helped her carry her clothes to her room, I noticed the case hadn’t moved from the corner for over a month.
