Bright lights shone into Mason’s face as a car pulled slowly into Jocelyn’s driveway. He’d opted to sit on the front porch rather than in his car, finding the cool, summer night refreshing. He’d never admit how long he’d been waiting for her to get home, but after the short chat with Taylin he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to talk to Jocelyn.
He stood as she came around the car, a questioning look on her face, her brows furrowed, and lips pressed in a firm line.
“Mason? What are you doing here?” she asked, stopping in front of him.
“How’d the show go?”
Jocelyn gave him a sweet smile before casually scooting past him, opening her door.
“It went better than I could have ever imagined. Do you want to come in, have a cup of coffee and I can tell you about it?” she asked over her shoulder.
“That’s an invite I won’t turn down.”
Mason was taken aback by the paltry exchange that felt like nothing more than small talk. From what he’d gotten out of Taylin, Jocelyn still loved him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t angry with him. And he was angry too. There was a lot to be worked out, and he wasn’t leaving until that happened, one way or another. As Jocelyn slipped off her shoes, he closed the door behind him, then followed her into the kitchen.
“I think I’m going to have tea, but I could make you some coffee or a drink?” she said coolly, fumbling around the kitchen, not looking at him.
“Jocelyn, stop.” He’d had enough of the pleasantry charade.
Stepping toward her, he wrapped his arms around her body, her back pressed into his front, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. The familiarity of the action had him dreading the impending conversation.
“I hate how things ended the other night. But in that moment, there was no stopping me. I couldn’t listen, I didn’t want to hear it. I was angry. I was angry at you.” Mason turned Jocelyn in his arms, his hands cupping her face as warm tears rolled down her cheeks, wetting his hands. “Why didn’t I get to be with you? How the fuck do you think it made me feel seeing you with another guy?”
“I’ve thought a lot about this, believe me,” Jocelyn started with a hitch in her words. “You had—have—every right to be angry with me. I didn’t see it at the time, but I do now.”
“What do you see?” he asked.
“That most of this is my fault.” She sniffled, twisting out of his hold, viciously wiping away her tears. “If I could go back and change it, I would. I would have talked to you at the bar, which most likely would have avoided this whole situation. I’m not going to apologize for going to dinner with a friend, that would be absurd. But I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. It’s disrespectful, and it would have crushed me if the roles were reversed.”
“It wasn’t going to dinner with a friend. You went on a date.”
“It wasn’t a damn date!” Jocelyn’s voice strained.
“It wasn’t? Did he pay for dinner?” Mason cocked his eyebrow. “Tell me he didn’t escort you into the restaurant with a hand on your lower back. Tell me he didn’t make a pass at you. And don’t you dare lie to me.” Mason paced, waiting for a reply.
He’d hoped to keep his cool, but he couldn’t hold back. Trying to sew back together what was left of their relationship hurt more than it breaking apart. No more secrets, no more surprises, all of it had to be laid out on the table.
Jocelyn cleared her throat before she spoke. “To me, it wasn’t a date. And I’ve made things crystal clear with Tim about where he and I stand.”
“Of course,” Mason scoffed. “And where do the two of you stand?”
“I think cordial acquaintances is about right. Dinner is something that will never happen again, even in a group setting. I don’t want to go into it,” she said, lowering her head and twisting her hands together.
Mason sighed. Jocelyn’s body language had changed, almost folding in on itself. This was not where he hoped the night would go. Yes, he wanted answers, and he was getting them, like it or not, but this wasn’t how he wanted it: shouting as Jocelyn held back tears while defending her actions. He had a right to know, but not like this. He wasn’t going to be that guy. He hated being the jealous guy, but he loathed being the asshole who made his woman cry.
“I didn’t come here to argue with you.” Mason let out a heavy breath, taking a seat at the breakfast bar, leaning on his elbows, holding his face in his hands. “I came here to get you back. I want you in my life, but there are things that have to be worked out.”
“And yelling does that?” Her question was faint.
“Call it passion.” He looked up, a smirk on his face. “I can’t sit here calmly talking about another man hitting on the woman I love. How did you see this conversation going? Over a cup of fucking tea?”
“Listen.” Jocelyn exhaled a heavy sigh. “There’s nothing I’d love more than to get back with you. And I am sincerely sorry for the way things happened, but now having you here… I know in the deepest part of my soul I can’t watch you walk away again. How easily you gave up on us, how with one mistake you abandoned what we have…abandoning me. Everything I feared, everything you told me not to worry about, was exactly what made you question what we have together. I put too much pressure on you. I know now that I asked a lot of you—take care of me, handle my delicate heart, and provide protection from others’ hurtful words. But—”
“You didn’t ask too much of me, damn it!” Mason interrupted. “I loved being that man for you. It made me feel loved and trusted. But people make mistakes. I made a mistake. Both of us did, but mine was extreme, and I see that. I didn’t plan on falling for you as hard as I did. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do you. I got jealous, and it’s not something I’m proud of, but I guess I didn’t know how to tell you how much I missed you. Talking about feelings isn’t really something we’re encouraged to do as men.”
“Mason.” His name was just a whisper on her lips.
“No, let me finish. I am scared, scared that you’re going to realize that this isn’t for you. That we don’t have enough in common. That maybe we don’t fit perfectly into each other’s life. But these last few days I’ve realized that I don’t fucking care. I want to be a part of your life even if I only see you a few hours a week. That’s better than nothing.”
“That’s not fair. You know damn well that seeing you so little over these weeks has been killing me too. You suggested this! You were the first person who told me I had something special, that I could be more and do more than my mundane life. And to come back and throw that in my face is pretty low.” Jocelyn leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.
Mason looked at Jocelyn, really studying the precious woman he’d fallen in love with. Her eyes were tired, her makeup a mess, her body deflated as she used the counter to keep her posted up, and some of the glow of life had dimmed. She wasn’t wrong; the gallery was his suggestion, and one he didn’t regret. Although admittedly, he hadn’t thought through the repercussions he might experience. Selfish asshole.
Tonight had been a total clusterfuck. The words coming out were jumbled, twisted, and just plain wrong. His head felt heavy from the events of the day, and now the night had turned into early morning. Mason decided he needed to get out of there and regroup. The unorganized thoughts in his head were coming out as such, and it was doing nothing to turn the situation around. In frustration, he slammed his hands down on the cool, granite countertop, before swiftly turning, making haste for the exit.
“Mason!” Jocelyn shrieked as he made his way to the door.
“What?” he called over his shoulder, his tone defeated.
“You’re just leaving? Just like that, without saying anything? What about passion?” she challenged.
“Damn it, Jocelyn! I love you, and the handful of regrets I have about our relationship are the fact that I couldn’t hold my shit together while you accomplished something amazing and that I overreacted when I didn’t understand where we stood with each other. I’ve said it multiple times now, and I’m here trying to prove it, I want you back! But I can’t argue any more tonight. Let’s just sleep on it,” he said ruefully. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Mason,” Jocelyn mumbled with an edgy laugh. “Just stop.” Walking toward him, she snaked her hands around his waist, her eyes meeting his. “We both handled this poorly, and I’m not going to let you take all the blame. Now,” she said, letting out a warm sigh, “kiss me and let’s be done with it. There’s nothing more to say.”
Mason shook his head before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. There was plenty more to say, so many more battles they had to face head-on, but the rest of the world could wait until tomorrow.
“Come on,” he commanded in a low tone, taking her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together as he led the way to the bedroom. “I’m so fucking tired and the best night sleep I ever get is when you’re wrapped in my arms.”
Jocelyn’s small frame tucked into the nook of his body as he pulled the covers over them. Mason rested his head just above hers, taking pleasure in her sweet, familiar, floral scent, which instantly put his body at ease. His heavy eyelids closed, relaxed in the fact that in this moment the world had righted itself. They had weathered the first big storm and were coming out of it strong, not without bumps and bruises, but now was the time to relax and repair. It was going to be okay.
“Mason…”
Her timid voice said his name, which he could only respond to with a grunt. Delicate fingers fluttered across his exposed chest and up his neck, but he could feel Jocelyn’s body tense next to his. Fuck. Every inch of his body was burning with exhaustion and delving into a whole new situation that was going to be near impossible for him tonight, and whatever was on the tip of her tongue was sure to be a new issue. But they’d come this far, and while the waters were still choppy, there was no other option than to forage on. He wanted her, no matter what.
“Talk to me, baby.” His words were gruff, but he rubbed his hand up and down her arm in encouragement.
He laid there, his eyes closed, as he waited for her to speak. After several minutes of silence, he wondered if she had fallen asleep, but then her soft words broke into the dark room.
“I was thinking. Would you be interested in moving in here with me?” Jocelyn paused. “I know we’ve hardly reached six months of dating, but I miss you every night, and I want to see you every morning. Our lives will always be busy, and this would ensure that we have special moments together, even in the height of our crazy times.” She rushed the words.
Mason was taken aback by the question. That idea hadn’t crossed his mind. Variations of it had, like asking her to leave stuff at his place so she could stay more, or him leaving items to shower and shave at her place. But permanently moving in? He definitely wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, but this was a big deal, and having promised again to never hurt Jocelyn, this deserved a well-rested head to think on it.
“Baby, I love the idea. But—and please don’t take this the wrong way—I need to sleep. I want to do what’s right for us, and right now I’m not sure which way is up.” Mason pulled Jocelyn closer and tighter in a show of affection. He wanted her to know that this wasn’t a rejection, but that he needed to think, seriously think.
“Thank you.” She placed a kiss on his chest, curling into the side of his body.
It was mere moments before the soft purr of her breath indicated that she had fallen fast asleep, and Mason wanted nothing more than to join her. However, a taste of adrenaline hummed through his body at her request to have him move in. A list of pros and cons circled his mind before he found the tranquility of sleep.