Chuckling, I buried my face in her hair and inhaled. “God, baby, you have no idea. You’ve got me so fucking wrapped up. And I don’t even care.”
Reese turned toward me and ran her hand over my head, slipping her fingers into the leather string I used to pull it back. With a tug, she freed my hair, then wrapped my locks around her fingers as she played with it, still smiling like she owned the secret to all happiness.
“I love your hair,” she whispered.
“Next time I kiss your sweet pussy, I want your hands in my hair,” I told her, closing my eyes as she began to massage my scalp.
“I’m afraid I’d forget myself and pull it.”
“It would be so fucking hot if you did.”
A soft giggle from her made me smile.
We cuddled in silence for several minutes. Her hands stayed in my hair, playing with it and rubbing my head. I had never been so content.
“Thank you for tonight. I’ve only had a birthday cake and a party once in my life that I can remember. And it ended up being a day I’d rather forget. But you just gave me a fairy-tale birthday party. I feel special.”
Her admission sent that painful slice through me. Shit. I hated hearing how this beautiful woman had been so fucking abused and neglected. She deserved a fairy-tale life, but she had lived through hell instead. I was going to spend the rest of our lives making sure she had birthday parties that were fit for a fucking queen. When we were old and gray, she’d have so many good memories that she wouldn’t remember the bad ones. I was going to spend my life erasing that shit.
“My best present was you,” she said, and pressed a kiss to my jaw.
All my anger at the injustice of her life faded away. She was safe and in my arms. She was mine.
Reese
The ringing of a phone woke me up. Sitting up, I looked around and squinted against the sunlight coming in through the window. The ringing stopped, and I heard the shower running in the bathroom. Mase had left the door wide open. Was that an invitation to peek? Because I really wanted to see him naked and wet.
Grinning, I had thrown back the covers and started to get up when the phone dinged and vibrated on the bed. Looking around, I saw Mase’s slim silver phone lying just below his pillow. I grabbed it. I could use that as my excuse for coming into the bathroom while he was showering. Not that he’d expect an excuse.
Knowing Mase, he was hoping I would.
I covered my mouth to suppress a giggle, and his phone dinged and vibrated again. Someone was really trying to get in touch with him. I stopped grinning, and the idea that it could be an emergency hit me.
I glanced down at the phone to see a text message from someone named Major. I didn’t mean to read it, but my eyes focused on the words her panties, and I couldn’t stop myself.
Sliding my finger over the screen, I opened the text message.
Major: Cord came by insistng she left her pantes under your bed from the other night. She was determined to get them. I let her in. But dude, she seemed pissed at you. You done fucking her?
I reread that text over and over. It wasn’t my text to read. I was invading Mase’s privacy, but I couldn’t stop. Cord. Cordelia. He had been on the phone with her before. He was . . . he was fucking her?
Her panties . . .
The other night . . .
Oh, God. I was going to be sick.
The urge to throw his phone against the wall and scream until all the pain in my chest melted away was strong. How could he do this? My Mase was so good to me. He was sweet and thoughtful. He was patient with me, and he took care of me.
And he was . . . a liar.
I had trusted him.
Everything in my body went numb. Except for my heart, which had ruptured in my chest.
The shower shut off, and I finally moved from the spot I had been frozen in. I swiped my finger over the text message and paused only a brief second to think it through before pressing delete. Then I put his phone back where he had left it. Without looking toward the bathroom, I walked out of the bedroom and as far across the apartment as I could. I stood in the corner farthest from him and waited.
He would come looking for me. I didn’t want him getting close.
I couldn’t let myself think about all the places he had touched me. When he was gone, he was touching her. She was having sex with him.
It all made sense now. How he was so patient with me. He didn’t need sex from me. He was getting it regularly back in Texas. I placed a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming in agony.
This was too much. I hadn’t known it could feel like this. The sudden, brutal end of love.
I had never loved before, but now that it was over, the pain was excruciating.
I wouldn’t do this again. Love. The happiness it gave you was a fleeting thing. It wasn’t worth this.
His body filled the doorway. A towel was wrapped around his hips, and his hair was still dripping water that trailed down his bare chest. “Reese?” his voice was concerned.
He was concerned about me a lot. The broken girl who needed help. I couldn’t read, write, or have sex. He was going to fix me. Was that what I had been to him? A project?
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, as he began to walk toward me. I couldn’t let him touch me. Not anymore.
“No!” I screamed, holding my hands up to keep him back. “Don’t come near me,” I warned.
He stopped, but the look in his eyes was one that I would have once thought was fear. I didn’t think that anymore. He didn’t know what fear was. Or pain.
“Reese, what’s wrong?” he asked carefully, studying me.
“Leave. I want you to leave. Don’t come back. I don’t want you here.” I held my hands up, but I turned my gaze to the door. I couldn’t look at him, because my heart was confused. It thought it saw pain in his eyes. It didn’t. I had thought I’d seen a lot of things when he looked at me that I didn’t truly see.
“Baby, what happened? Don’t do this. Don’t push me away. Let me come to you.”
He thought this was because of my past. I could hear it in his voice. He was talking to the broken girl. The one he felt sorry for. The one he pitied. “I want you gone. Get dressed and get out!” I yelled the last part. He wasn’t listening to me. I wanted him to leave. I couldn’t stand here like this much longer. The shattering inside my chest made me want to curl up and hold myself together.
“I’m not leaving you, Reese. You have to tell me what’s wrong. I can help you—”
“No! I’m not your personal charity case. I was fine before you, and I’ll be fine after you. But you need to leave! I’m calling the cops if you aren’t out of here in five minutes.”