Chapter 15

The next morning, I woke up feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Mason had ended things with Vanessa. He'd said he wanted me. He'd promised to try.

I smiled at the ceiling like an idiot.

Derek drove me to work.

The bookstore felt different today. Brighter. The sun was actually shining through the windows. Mrs. Patel was humming behind the register.

Ethan was already there, shelving books in the romance section. "Someone's in a good mood," he said when I walked in.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're smiling." He tilted his head. "You never smile."

"I smile."

"Not like that." He grinned. "That's a 'I got laid last night' smile."

My face went hot. "Ethan!"

"Okay, okay." He held up his hands. "I'm just saying. It's nice to see you happy."

I grabbed a stack of books and started shelving. He didn't push. Just worked beside me in comfortable silence.

At lunch, my phone buzzed.

Mason: How's your day?

I smiled. He never texted me during the day.

Lucy: Good. How's yours?

Mason: Boring. I miss you.

I stared at the screen. My heart fluttered.

Lucy: You miss me?

Mason: Don't make it weird.

Lucy: You're the one who said it.

Mason: I take it back.

Lucy: You can't take it back.

Mason: Watch me.

I laughed out loud. Ethan looked over.

"Friend's brother?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"You have that look." He smiled. "The 'I'm in love and I hate it' look."

I set down my phone. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who's paying attention." He shrugged. "I'm happy for you, Lucy. Really."

"You are?"

"Yeah. You deserve to be happy." He met my eyes. "Even if it's with someone else."

I didn't know what to say. So I just nodded.

The afternoon passed quickly. Customers came and went. Books were shelved. Orders were placed.

By five o'clock, I was exhausted. But the good kind of exhausted.

Derek was waiting outside. Same as always.

But this time, Mason was in the car too.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, sliding into the backseat.

"Picking you up."

"You have Derek for that."

"I wanted to see you." His voice was flat. But his eyes were soft.

I smiled. "Okay."

We drove home in silence. But his hand found mine on the seat. And he didn't let go. Clara was waiting at the house.

She took one look at us and grinned. "Well, well, well. Look who's holding hands."

"Clara," Mason warned.

"I'm just saying. It's about time."

She handed me a glass of wine and pulled me aside.

"Okay, spill. What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Bullshit. You're glowing." She leaned in. "Did he finally confess his undying love?"

"No. He just—" I smiled. "He ended things with Vanessa."

"Finally." She rolled her eyes. "I've been telling him to do that for months."

"Months?"

"Please. Have you forgotten what I told you? He's been obsessed with you since before I started working for him." She took a sip of wine. "The pictures in his desk drawer? There are at least twenty. Different years. Different parties. Always you."

I didn't know what to say.

"I'm not telling you this to make you uncomfortable," Clara added. "I'm telling you so you understand. He's not playing games with you, Lucy. He's terrified."

"Of what?"

"Of losing you. Of screwing up. Of being the disaster he's always been." She met my eyes. "But he's trying. That's more than he's ever done for anyone."

I looked across the room. Mason was on the phone, jaw tight, talking to someone about Vincent. He caught my eye. For a second, his expression softened.

Then he looked away.

That night, I sat in the guest room and stared at the wall.

Clara's words echoed in my head. He's terrified. But he's trying.

I thought about the pictures in his desk drawer. The way he'd kissed me. The way he'd said he loved me.

But he remains my disaster.

My phone buzzed.

Ethan: Hey. Just wanted to say thanks for today. It was nice having someone to work with who actually knows books.

I smiled.

Lucy: Thanks, Ethan. You're not so bad yourself.

Ethan: High praise from the girl who never smiles.

Lucy: I smile.

Ethan: Not like that.

Lucy: Like what?

Ethan: Like you're happy. Like the weight is off your shoulders.

I stared at the screen.

Lucy: I am happy. For the first time in a while.

Ethan: Good. You deserve it.

Ethan: Anyway, I'll let you go. See you tomorrow?

Lucy: See you tomorrow.

I set down my phone. Ethan was nice. Normal. Easy. Everything Mason wasn't. And yet—I couldn't stop thinking about Mason.

My phone buzzed again.

Mason: Can't sleep.

Lucy: Me neither.

Mason: Come downstairs.

I hesitated. Then I stood up and walked to the door.

Mason was in the living room. Dark. Quiet. A glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up when I walked in.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi."

"What are you doing up?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

"About you." He set down his glass. "About Vincent. About how I'm going to keep you safe."

I sat down beside him. "We'll figure it out," I said. "Together."

"I really don't deserve you."

"Probably not."

He almost smiled. Almost. Then he pulled me into his arms.

"I'm going to protect you," he said against my hair. "No matter what it takes."

"I know."

"And I'm going to try." His voice cracked. "I'm going to try to be better. For you."

I pulled back. Looked at him.

"That's all I ask," I said.

He kissed me.

Not desperate. Not cold. Just real.

And for the first time, I believed that maybe—just maybe—we could make this work.

*** ***

The next morning, I woke up in his bed. Not the guest room. His bed.

I didn't remember falling asleep. I just remembered his arms around me, his heartbeat under my ear.

He was still asleep. His face was relaxed. Younger. Softer. I traced the line of his jaw with my finger.

His eyes fluttered open. "Morning," he said, voice rough.

"Morning."

"You stayed."

"I stayed."

He pulled me closer. "Good."

We didn't talk about Vincent. We didn't talk about the future. We just lay there, tangled together, pretending the world didn't exist.

At breakfast, Clara found us in the kitchen. She took one look at us and grinned. "Amazing."

"Clara," Mason warned.

"I'm just saying. It's about time you two stopped dancing around each other."

She handed me a cup of coffee. "You're good for him," she said quietly. "Don't let him screw it up."

I looked at Mason. He was watching me. His eyes were soft.

"I won't," I said.

Derek drove me to work. Mason kissed me goodbye. Quick. Possessive. "Be careful," he said.

"I will."

"Text me when you get there."

"I will."

"And don't talk to strangers."

"Vincent isn't a stranger. He's a psychopath."

He almost smiled. Almost. "Just be careful."

"I will," I said again.

The bookstore was busy. Ethan was already there. He smiled when I walked in. "Someone's in a good mood again."

"I'm always in a good mood."

"Sure you are."

I laughed. He laughed. And for the first time in weeks, I felt like everything might be okay.