His fingers continue to caress me, and I allow myself a moment to enjoy his touch and his closeness.
But only for a moment.
I pull away and wipe my eyes, thankful my eyelashes are long and dark enough that mascara isn’t a daily need for me. “I accept your apology, Mason. I forgive you. But just know that it doesn’t change anything. I don’t trust you, and I still have a lot of emotions to work through regarding that night. I have been living with them stuffed in a box labeled ‘do not touch, will detonate’ since I collected my wits and walked out of that diner the next morning.”
“You spent the night there?” His eyes blaze with torturous pain.
“Yes. I was stuck. Frozen. I couldn't move. Everyone around me was in motion but on my end, time had stopped. You hurt me, Mason.”
“I’m so—”
“Don’t. You don’t have to keep apologizing. I appreciate your candor and sensitivity, and now it’s time we both move forward. What do you say?”
I stand up and Mason follows suit.
Shakily and slowly, I reach out my hand to him. He takes it and holds tight. No shake takes place, but the deal is satisfied.
“Okay,” I sniff and wipe away any remaining tears rolling down my cheeks. “I think photos are now a hopeless pursuit due to my red, puffy face. Why don’t we start heading back?”
“Sounds good, and I did get some pictures. Look them over,” he says as he digs into his backpack. “And here, I brought these for you.”
Mason tosses me a value size pack of Boston Style peanuts, and I catch them with one hand.
“I see you still have your softball reflexes,” he compliments. I grin and tear the package open, tossing a red candy-coated peanut into my mouth.
“Yep. I still play rec ball every spring, Peppermint.”
We both pause at my using of his nickname in a casual tone, and instead of backtracking or trying to fight the moving on, I roll with it and shrug. If I’m putting the past in the past, I might as well start now.
Mason grins like a fool.
“Let’s get out of here.” I roll my eyes, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and start the trek back.
“I’ll follow your lead,” he says.
“Don’t stare at my backside. We can’t attempt to be friends again if you go lusting after me.”
Behind me, he snickers. “I’m not making promises I can’t keep anymore, Vroom.”
I glance back at him just in time to see him trip over a tree root, face plant on the ground, and then roll a few times in my direction. He groans but sits up before I can make it to him. He grins sheepishly at me and shakes his head, red dirt flying in all directions. Unable to control my laughter, I double over, pretty sure I’m in the process of creating new abs.
Wiping a joyful tear from my eye, I watch as he climbs to his feet and shrugs. “Karma has your back, Karoline Wright.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mason - Present
Itried to refrainfrom flirting.
That’s a lie. I gave about thirty percent of my effort.
But don’t worry.
God put me in my place.
That woman lights a fire in me that brings out my best and worst traits. How did I not notice that back at twenty-one, or at the very least, on my birthday that fateful night? It’s been fourdreadful days since I last saw Karoline in person. My agent, Rob, came down the day after Karoline and I went hiking because he found out about the commercial and promo ads I was doing with the boutique.
Needless to say, he was not happy about me keeping him in the dark in the name of “just resting and recuperating” here in Mississippi.
