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Say it,I silently begged.Just say it.
But all I got was a muffled, “I’m sorry.”
Tears filled my eyes, an overwhelming sense of sadness settling in my chest. There was something between us—there was—but Mason was too chickenshit to admit it.
I wasn’t enough for my father, and clearly, I wasn’t enough for Mason to take a leap of faith, either.
Even if he was here, even if I felt his torment, the possessive way he held me, it wasn’t enough.
I closed my eyes and willed sleep to find me. Because I knew when I woke up in the morning, Mason would be gone.
And I would go back to hating him.
* * *
My eyes fluttered open, the heavy pounding in my head as grating as the brass band at my old high school.
Dear God, how much had I drunk last night?
Lots and lots of shots, Harper.
Ugh.
Rolling onto my back, I groaned with pain. I couldn’t even remember getting back to the building. How cliché.
Sad, dejected girl gets wasted and makes bad life choices.
Sitting up, I pushed the hair from my eyes and scanned the nightstand for my cell phone.
Harper: Question. Did I leave the bar with you last night?
Rory: You don’t remember?
Harper: Uh, no.
Rory: You were pretty drunk. I tried to get you to come with us, but you wanted to stay. Austin said he’d keep an eye on you.
Harper: Austin. Right.
Rory: Harper, is everything okay? Did something happen?
Harper: No, no. Everything is fine just a little hazy.
My eyes landed on my desk, and I frowned. There was a coffee cup and a small paper bag.
“What the—” I shoved off the covers and climbed out of bed, breathing past the nausea rolling through me.
As I drew closer, I realized it was an iced coffee from the campus coffee shop. And there was a note.
My heart ratcheted as I plucked the note off the desk.
Thought you might need this. The barista reassured me the brownies were gluten-free.
P.S. Keep the t-shirt. It looks good on you.
Mase
Mason.
