Truly Yours Page 11

  Mason: Just choose something else.

  I know one food he’ll always agree to eat. With a lifted eyebrow and a smirk on my lips, I send him a text.

  Sophie: Tacos?

  Mason: Yeah, that sounds good!

  I head to the living room and sit on the couch with a book but end up falling asleep. The sound of Mason walking through the door wakes me. He has bags of food in his hands and a smile on his face. I can’t stop staring at him in his dark blue button-up shirt and black slacks. He doesn’t always dress up for work, but when he does, it’s hard to keep my eyes off him.

  “I hope you’re hungry. It was buy one, get one free tonight, so I loaded us up,” he says as he sits down next to me, placing the bags of food on the coffee table. His hand brushes against my leg and goose bumps trail across my skin. My heart says yes, but my head says no. Every day is a battle because I don’t want to rush and ruin our relationship before it even has a chance to start.

  “I’m starving.” I grin, and he unloads street tacos along with chips and salsa. The faint smell of his cologne grabs my attention as he heads to the kitchen. He returns with two plates, and we make small talk about our days while we eat. If I don’t think about what we’ve been through or our pasts, it’s easy to fall right back into where we were before the Dalton shit happened.

  “Mmm, tacos were a good choice.” Mason smiles and leans into me.

  I can’t help but notice the way his eyes shine when he looks at me. The electricity that streams between us is undeniable, even after everything.

  “I thought so.” I smirk, knowing he can’t deny tacos, but who really can? “How was work?”

  “Good actually. I think people are starting to realize I’m not just there because of who my dad is, which should’ve happened a long fucking time ago, but you know how it goes. People know I’m a Holt and see the similarities between my father and me, and they instantly jump to conclusions. I should find out about the promotion next week. If it’s really happening or not.”

  “Glad everything seems to be working out,” I say around a mouthful, knowing how much this means to him and how hard he’s worked over the years for his big break. “You deserve it,” I tell him sincerely.

  “If I don’t get it, I swear I might lose my mind,” he admits, and I love that he’s able to be vulnerable with me, considering he doesn’t talk about work very much.

  “You know you’re a shoo-in. You know that for a fact, so I wouldn’t even worry about it. What should happen will happen.”

  “You’re so damn smart.”

  I shrug and laugh. “Nah, I just hire a therapist who gives me catch phrases like that.”

  “How’d it go today?” When my eyes meet his, I know he genuinely wants to know.

  “It went really well. We talked a lot about my anxiety since the first incident, and she had me visualize that night and how facing that fear will release me of feeling out of control. It sounds really odd, but in a way, it felt like it was a good start to my treatment. She also told me to write in a journal when I feel anxious, so basically, I’ll be writing in it all day long,” I say with a chuckle. “I started today when I got home. It’s going to take months to really process what’s happened, but it will get a little easier each day as long as I work on it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the incidents, but hopefully, I’ll be able to live with it without the memories barging into my thoughts.”

  Mason wraps his arm around my shoulders, and while I want to lean into him and stay there forever, I don’t. I linger, then go back to my tacos.

  After we finish eating, I help Mason clean up our mess. After we put the leftover tacos in the fridge, we both sit back down on the couch and get lost in Netflix.

  “Want to watch Lucifer or piss off Liam and watch his show?” He flashes me a shit-eating grin, which causes me to laugh.

  Liam’s been working a shit ton, so I haven’t seen him as much lately, and the last episode left us on a cliffhanger, so I’m contemplating it.

  Mason glances over at me, and I smirk. “We promised Liam we wouldn’t watch it without him.”

  I bite down on my lower lip and shrug. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  “Deal. Let’s Netflix cheat on his ass,” he says, then turns it on. For the next few hours, I get lost in the town’s bad boy and small Southern town drama, and it’s everything I love getting lost in. Eventually, I start yawning, and Mason notices.

  “Tired?” he asks, yawning too. “Damn, I caught it.” He chuckles, yawning again.

  I nod. “Yeah, but I don’t know why, considering I didn’t do much today except go to therapy. Apparently, being in my head is exhausting,” I joke.

  He gives me a look. “Let’s go to bed,” he tells me, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.

  I glare at him.

  Mason snickers. “Hey, if I don’t turn it off, you know we’ll watch the next one and then the next one, and then we’ll be on the next season. Netflix makes it too easy.”

  I giggle because we’ve done it so many times. It’s just hard to break away from him when we’re hanging out. I never want our time to end. Mason stands and stretches and holds his hand out. I grab it, and he helps me up.

  Neither of us moves to walk away, and I notice the way he searches my face. “You sure you’re okay, Soph?”

  I give him a small grin. “I will be.”

  Mason brings his thumb to the corner of my lips and grins. “Got a little sour cream here.”

  “Oh.” I chuckle, embarrassed. It’s probably been on my face this whole time. “Thanks.”

  His deep brown eyes I’ve gazed into dozens of times look at me with so much love, it’s hard to break away. Then he tucks loose strands of hair behind my ear, and my eyes flutter closed when he cups my cheek. Softly, his lips press against mine, and for a moment, I lose myself in his taste, in his touch, in him. I feel as if I’m falling as his tongue twists with mine, and he releases a groan, sinking deeper against me. His other hand slides down my body until it grips my hip, pulling me against him. Moaning, I wrap my arms around his waist, clinging to the feeling that surfaces at this moment. Kissing Mason is a dream, a fantasy come to life, but then reality smacks me in the face. Even though I want to get lost in him and forget about everything, that sneaky bitch anxiety comes barreling in, and I remember it’s too soon.

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper-pant, pushing against his chest. We both lost control. The moment I see his sad expression, guilt pours over me, and I frown. “I’m so sorry, Mason. I just—”

  “I know.” He cuts me off. “I know you’re not ready. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He swallows and brushes a hand through his hair.

  I nod, taking a step back. “Good night, Mason.”

  He sucks in his lower lip. “Good night, sweet Sophie.” He flashes a wink before turning around and heading upstairs.

  I walk to my room and lean against the door. My heart gallops in my chest, and I close my eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Mason deserves to have more than just a sliver of me, and right now, my heart is still too shattered to give him anything.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mason

  The past three weeks have been both interesting and strange. After that night when Sophie and I kissed, I’ve been careful to keep my distance and watch for her cues so I don’t overstep her boundaries.

  After she said she wasn’t ready, I felt like the biggest asshole in the world. I shouldn’t have lost control, but it seemed right regardless of how wrong it was. It’s been difficult to keep my feelings closed up, but I know that’s what she needs right now. I think back to when I lost Emma and how I wanted to do nothing but sleep and drink the pain away. At least Sophie is functioning after what she went through. I’m trying to give her all the time she needs, even if that means I have to wait for years, because I will.

  The timing has always been wrong for our relationship because when one of us is ready for more, the other isn’t. However, I refu
se to give up on her, give up on us. The guilt of crossing the line with her has consumed me. Though I’ve apologized more than once, and she acts as if it’s no big deal, I know better.

  I knew I had pushed her too far, too quickly, and immediately felt like a selfish bastard. But it’s hard not to be selfish when it comes to her.

  A couple of weeks ago, I was offered the promotion, which has helped keep me busy. Most nights, I’m exhausted when I walk in the door. Even though I wish I was spending more time with her, it’s probably best that work distracts me for the time being.

  Another early morning comes, and after I get ready for work, I head to the kitchen like always. Once the coffee finishes brewing, I pour myself a cup and make one for Sophie just the way she likes it, knowing she’ll be joining me soon. After my mug is half empty, I grab ingredients from the fridge and whip up some scrambled eggs and toast.

  Like clockwork, Sophie shuffles into the kitchen. I look over my shoulder and watch as she sits at the table, immediately taking a sip of her drink. Her hair is a mess, and she offers me a sweet smile. My heart lurches forward anytime I look at her and have to remind myself to bury my feelings. Something I should be used to by now, considering I’ve been doing it for years.

  Doesn’t mean it’s been easy. It’s been hard as fuck and having her in my house makes it even harder. Finally getting to a place we’ve both wanted and then having the rug pulled out from under us has brought an internal battle I wasn’t ready for.

  “Morning,” she says.

  Her morning voice is so damn sexy, and it makes me smile. “Morning. Sleep well?”

  She shrugs, looking indifferent. “No worse than usual.”

  I place the eggs and toast on two plates, set them on the table, then sit across from her. We don’t talk much in the mornings, but we don’t have to. I’m just happy to be around her and happy that she’s here with me. After we’re done eating, I clean up and rinse our dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.

  “How’s work going?” she asks, more awake now.

  “Great. Got a few cases to oversee, which is a nice change. Instead of doing the bitch work, I’m assigning it. Finally.” I laugh.

  The sweet smile she gives me is everything. She may tell me she can’t, but her unspoken words tell me she still feels the same. It’s enough for me.

  “Any big plans today?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

  “Just going to see my therapist for my weekly appointment. Might go grocery shopping so we aren’t always living on pizza and tacos.” She lets out a breath as if she’s nervous about going out in a public space. “Other than that, nothing much. Maybe read a book if I don’t fall asleep.”

  “Do you think you’ll go back to work soon?” I ask. It’s the elephant in the room, and something she’s been avoiding for a while. I don’t want to force her into anything, but I know what playing the violin means to her. Plus, Lennon has been asking Hunter to ask me if Sophie’s been playing, and still, she hasn’t. The last time I helped her carry her clothes to her room, I noticed the case hadn’t moved from the corner for over a month.

  She shrugs, then walks and leans on the counter by me. “I was thinking next week. I need to start practicing again for our upcoming shows and want to be ready. Plus, I can only take so much leave before it looks like I’m taking advantage. God forbid something else happens that I need to take off for.” She sighs with a quiet groan, almost as if she’s anticipating more stuff going wrong in her life.

  I tilt my head at her, then rest my hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Nothing else is going to happen. Well, unless Hunter passes out when Lennon gives birth because he nearly did the last time,” I say with a light chuckle. “But really, take all the time you need, Soph. You don’t have to rush back into something you’re not ready to do.”

  “That’s what Mary says too,” she admits with a small smile. “I think I’ll be fine to go back on Monday. Maybe it’ll help get me out of my head for a while. Music has a way of healing the people in my family.”

  I shoot her a wink, and I notice the way her lips tilt up in the corners.

  “Need anything from the store?” She walks past me and pours more coffee in her cup. Her arm brushes against mine as my back leans against the counter, and that familiar electric current streams through me. By the way she looks at me with hooded eyes, I know she feels it too.

  “Nah,” I tell her. “I’m good.”

  I’d be better if her lips were pressed against mine, though I don’t dare say that.

  “If you change your mind, you’ve got my number,” she teases.

  “I do. Even got it memorized.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asks playfully.

  “I only have three numbers memorized, and one is my own so you should feel really special that I know yours too,” I tell her, which makes her laugh.

  “Trust me, I do.” She blinks, lowering her face as if she’s trying to hide her blush.

  She goes to the fridge and adds more creamer, then lets out a sigh after she takes another sip.

  I check the time and realize I need to get going. I’m trying to set an example by being punctual even though I’d rather shoot the shit with Sophie instead.

  “Have a good day, Soph,” I tell her after I refill my to-go mug with coffee.

  “You too,” she says, looking me up and down with a cocked eyebrow. It takes all the willpower I have to walk away, and I’m not sure how I do it.

  “Wait…” she calls out, and I turn around to face her. “Who’s the third person’s number?” She narrows her eyes at me as if she really wants to know.

  Smirking, I shove one hand in my pocket. “Our dumbass roommate.” I chuckle.

  “For all the times he’s had to bail you out of jail?” she taunts with a side-grin, and it feels good to banter with her again.

  I point my finger at her, smiling. “I’m changing your contact name to Sassy Sophie now.” Then I wink, turn around, and get my ass out of there before I do something stupid like take her up against the door.

  On the way to work, she’s all I have on my mind. Watching her become more like her old self each day gives me more hope than she knows.

  Jerad walks over and gives me a head nod when he checks his watch and sees I’m more than twenty minutes early. “Working on another promotion so soon?”

  “You got jokes before eight? Shocking.”

  Jerad laughs. “Still a smartass no matter what time of day it is, I see. Morning to you too, Holt.”

  I smile, happy to be here, working my dream job. A stack of files sits on my desk that I need to look over and see if we missed anything that might help solve the case. There’s been a few that don’t have any leads on suspects, and it’s critical we put all the pieces together to understand what happened. It’s going to take me the rest of the week to look over the evidence and photographs that were collected, but I don’t have any issues with it. This is what I’ve worked so damn hard for.

  I flip through the photographs of the first case. Murder. DNA evidence was collected, but it didn’t match anyone in the system. Logging in to the computer, I go to the database that has the digital images stored and zoom into something in the corner of the room that catches my eye. Making sure I’m not imagining things, I hurry and flip through all of the pictures from the case. I grab the file and go to Jerad’s office. Busy typing away on his computer, he gives me a pointed look for interrupting him, then goes back to what he was doing. I swear he lives to agitate me.

  “Did anyone realize there’s something on the wall here?” I ask.

  Jerad looks over the photos and logs into the digital files on the computer and zooms in. “It looks like a fingerprint, doesn’t it?”

  “It totally does. I didn’t see any information about fingerprints collected in the system. Just hair. But I think there was talk that it might be her roommate’s.”

  He rubs his hand across the scruff on his chin. “You might be able
to go back out there and see if the apartment is still taped off. It only happened a few days ago, and I remember the complex manager said they were going to work on renovations early next week.”

  I suck in a deep breath, knowing this could help solve this case and give this girl’s family some closure and justice. “I’ll go,” I tell him.

  “Take Greg with you.”

  I give Jerad a look. “The intern?”

  He releases a chuckle. “You were the intern for years. Don’t discredit him because of it. The kid knows his shit.”

  “He’s egotistical and thinks he knows everything.” I groan and roll my eyes.

  “So do you,” he throws back at me.

  “Touché. I’ll grab him, and we’ll go and see if we can get access.”

  Jerad hands me the files, and before I leave, he praises me for a job well done. It makes me feel like a badass even though I know the work has only just begun. Greg sits at his desk, shuffling papers, and looks up at me when I walk by. He’s so fucking young, but I refuse to be a hypocrite and treat him the same way everyone treated me when I was fresh blood in the office.

  “You’re coming with me today. Grab your shit, I’m leaving now.” I don’t stop or give him a choice, and he catches on quickly because I hear him behind me seconds later.

  “Where’re we going?” Greg was smart enough to grab a sample kit and a camera, which is already saving me time. Maybe having an intern with me won’t be so bad after all.

  “I think something was missed on this investigation, so we’re going to check it out to make sure.”

  Greg’s eyes go wide. “What did they miss?”

  “I think a fingerprint,” I tell him matter-of-factly.

  He furrows his brows and makes a face. “How the hell was that overlooked?”

  I unlock my truck, and he climbs into the passenger side as I climb into the driver’s seat. “You’ll see when we get there. It’s in the corner of a room, and a piece of furniture is somewhat blocking it. I saw it in a photo that was taken at a weird angle. It might be nothing, but my gut tells me otherwise, and it’s usually not wrong.”