“I know.”
“Do you? You keep saying you know Mason, but do you?”
“Yes, would I be here now if I didn’t?” He picks up my hand, inching closer. “Come home.”
I want to. God, I would give anything for the warmth of his body wrapped around me, but if I let him off now when he can so easily slash me with his words, then I will live a life full of it, and I won’t allow that for myself.
“No.”
“Nina—”
“I will come home, you don’t have to worry about that. Go to work, carry on as normal. When I’m ready, I will be home.”
“When will that be?” He frowns.
“I have a studio to find and a showcase to win.” I shrug.
I’m not for sale.
“You’ll never let me help you, will you?”
“You have no idea what it took for me to allow myself to live with you.” I think about how easy it was for him to get me to move in. “Butthatguy. The man who took me to Paris and allowed me to decide for myself. That guy can be pretty damn perfect.”
“Come home,” he begs.
I shake my head, and his nostrils flare.
“I used to enjoy winding you up. I would tell Vinny how fun it was, but now? Now I tread the line so careful, afraid of the damage you will do to us with your words.”
“Nina, this is ridiculous; just come home. What’s the point of waiting a couple of days?”
“Mase, you aren’t the man I met six weeks ago. It’s been a crazy few weeks. Take some time for yourself, go and see your family.” I drop my head to the side, smiling. “I have so much in my own life I need to fix right now, and you should do the same.” I bring my hand up and smooth it down his chest. “We can wait.”
“You drive me insane,” he huffs, capturing my hand in his.
Hope blooms in my chest. “Good, I want your insanity back. You disappeared on me for a few days.”
He swallows thickly and takes a deep breath in. “Promise me you will come back to me.”
My lips twist up in a smile. “I promise.”
26
Mase
I barely slept last night—theneed to go and get her and bring her back to my bed driving me crazy. I wonder how I ever managed before her.
She is the most stubborn woman I know, and I need to sort myself out if I want to get her back.
I run my hand down over my face and lift the phone from the cradle. I dial the number to the estate.
“Hello?”
“Scar, it’s me.”
“Hello, big brother,” she sings down the phone. I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Is Dad there?”
