Page 84 of Between Regrets and Promises (Between Us Trilogy #2)

MASON

The weekend comes and goes and so does Monday.

When I drive home from work, my nerves get the best of me because tonight I’m willingly taking Sophie over to my aunt Sylvia’s house.

She’s my dad’s sister, has zero filter, and can be obnoxious at times, but I love her, and she typically means well.

Regardless, she’s going to spill all my business on her expensive floor, and Sophie will know everything about me by the time we leave, but I want that.

I want her to know everything about me, and Aunt Sylvia doesn’t forget and won’t leave any stone unturned.

She has the memory of an elephant, hence her bothering me about this damn dinner for the past few months.

The unpredictability of it all is what makes me the most nervous.

When I walk inside the house, Sophie’s sitting on the couch wearing black jeans, boots, and a nice sweater.

Though it’s only early October and the temperature hasn’t dropped significantly since summer, she’s been dressing in more fall outfits, which I love on her.

As soon as she sees me, she stands with a grin. “I’m ready.”

“You look great,” I admire. I empty my pockets, placing my keys and phone on the coffee table. “I’m gonna change into some jeans, and then we can go.”

She gives me a nod and sits back down. I climb the stairs two at a time and quickly change.

When I come back downstairs, I shoot Sophie a smile and notice her mood’s dramatically changed. “Everything okay?”

She shrugs and hands me my phone. I look down and see a text message from Serena. I open it and read what she sent. Considering I have preview set up, I know Sophie saw it.

Serena

How are you and your girlfriend?

Without responding, I lock my phone and shove it into my pocket.

That’s one text message I won’t be replying to, not now and not ever.

While Serena means well, my relationship with Sophie needs to stay private.

It’s something she and I share while we try to figure everything out.

I can tell the text bothers Sophie, which concerns me since I’ve already explained our friendship several times.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I remind her as she stands and releases a sharp breath.

“I know.” She forces a smile, and all I want to do is change the subject, but luckily, Liam does it for me. He bursts through the door sweaty as hell from working out.

“Where’re you two going?” he asks, then takes off his shirt and wipes his forehead with it.

“Dinner with Aunt Sylvia.”

He snorts and lifts his eyebrows at Sophie. “Have fun. She’s nuts.”

“Shut the hell up,” I say.

“Hey, the fruit doesn’t fall too far from the family tree.” He chuckles as he jumps up the stairs.

“Don’t get me started!” I warn, then glance at Sophie. “Come on.”

She lets a real smile escape, which gives me hope that everything is going to be fine.

We drive across town, and Sophie tells me about her rehearsal today, and I’m so damn thrilled things are finally going better for her. It’s been a few weeks since she returned, and at first, it was rough, but she’s seemed to have worked through a lot of her emotional issues.

Though my aunt lives nearly thirty minutes away, it feels like I only spent five minutes with Sophie since we chatted the whole time.

That’s one thing I love about her—time seems to fly by when she’s near.

So many times I wanted to interlock my fingers with hers, but ever since she took my hand at the recital, I’ve been trying not to push my luck.

We seem to finally be heading in the right direction, and I don’t want to jinx it.

Each time we’ve made progress in the past, something happens, and she pushes me away. I want to avoid that this time.

We pull into the gated community where my aunt lives and park in her driveway. Sophie’s eyes go wide. “This house is gigantic.”

“Yeah, it is. She’s my father’s sister, remember? They’re all about appearances.” Sophie sucks in a deep breath, and I shoot her a wink. “She’s harmless, though.”

We get out of the truck, and I lead her up the sidewalk with my hand on her back. I look at the perfectly trimmed bushes, and before we make it to the door, it’s swinging open. Aunt Sylvia greets us with a charming smile, not a hair out of place as she waves her hand for us to come inside.

“I’ve been expecting you two lovebirds,” she singsongs, pulling me and then Sophie into a hug.

Sophie looks around in awe at the high vaulted ceilings, chandeliers, and ridiculously expensive sculptures in the foyer.

The marble floors are so shiny, I can see my reflection in them.

Numerous political parties have been held here over the years, and I’m sure many more will be too.

We enter the kitchen, and Sylvia has cooked enough food for a dozen people.

“Expecting a small army?” I ask, walking over to the counter where the gigantic meatballs, noodles, sauce, and homemade garlic bread are laid out.

“Nope, just us,” she says. She divorced her husband years ago, and my cousin has long since moved out.

Sophie and I help her carry the dishes into the formal dining room where the table is set up all fancy.

When I notice Sophie’s fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, I hope her nerves aren’t getting the best of her.

As we walk back to the kitchen, I place my hand on the small of her back, hoping she relaxes a tad.

Aunt Sylvia grabs an expensive bottle of wine, and I grab the glasses. After we take our seats, she fills our plates with a mountain of food. I glance at Sophie and grin at her expression. I warned her and wasn’t kidding about the portions and stretchy pants.

As soon as she tastes one of the meatballs, she hums. “Oh my God. I think that’s the best meatball I’ve ever tasted in my life. Ever.”

Sylvia grins at me. “She’s a keeper, Mason.”

“Seriously,” Sophie continues, then eats another meatball.

I can’t blame her, though. They are good.

She could open a restaurant and make a killing, but being a county judge is her passion, and she’d never give it up.

Just like my father, she’s caught up in the attention.

But unlike my father, she still has her moral compass.

“How’s Crystal?” I ask about my cousin. Ignoring the pressure of following in her mom’s footsteps, she became a nurse and was one of the main reasons I found the courage to choose my own path too. I knew my dad would get over it. Eventually.

“Doing great. She works a lot. I invited her to join us tonight, but she’s on swing shift so wasn’t able to. You’ll have to come over again and meet my daughter,” she tells Sophie, who agrees with a mouthful.

“Saw your dad last week,” Aunt Sylvia adds, and I instantly tense. I was hoping she wouldn’t bring him up, but that was wishful thinking. “Is he still married to that child ? The secretary?” she asks suspiciously.

I stuff my face and give her a nod, but she continues chatting.

“Hmm,” she says, but now my curiosity is piqued.

“Why?” I ask.

She shrugs. “No reason.”

“This wine is great,” Sophie says, taking a big sip, thankfully moving the topic away from my dad. I chuckle because the last time she drank wine was with Liam and got trashed, which by morning I found adorable because of how embarrassed she was.

“Oh, have more.” Aunt Sylvia nearly refills Sophie’s glass to the brim.

“She’s a lightweight,” I tell Sylvia, who waves me off.

“We all are sometimes. Plus, she’s not driving.” She shoots Sophie a wink, who then giggles.

After we’ve eaten our weight in spaghetti and meatballs, we help her clean up.

I’m so full that I’m miserable, and I think Sophie is too, so we both refuse dessert.

Aunt Sylvia tells us to grab our wine and follow her.

By the smirk on her face, she’s more than determined to embarrass the piss out of me tonight.

She leads Sophie and me into her study, where she has a shelf full of photo albums. She begins pulling them down one by one and places them on her desk.

“Look at how adorable Mason was.” Aunt Sylvia flips through photos of Crystal and me in diapers.

“Those eyelashes,” Sophie says, glancing over with a smile. “Oh my gosh, you were the cutest baby.”

I scoff. “I’m still cute.”

Blush hits her cheeks as Aunt Sylvia goes on and on about the stories Crystal and I used to make up. “They would write plays and perform them in the living room. And the ballet moves Mason had,” she continues.

“Ballet?” Sophie tilts her head. “I’ll have to tell Maddie.”

I shake my head. “Oh hell no.”

Aunt Sylvia giggles. “He wanted to be an ice skater too.”

“This is so embarrassing,” I admit. I forgot about all of that. We shuffle through the pictures and come across some of me with my parents. I stare at it for a little while, and Sophie notices.

“Your mom is beautiful,” she says.

“Have you met her yet?” Aunt Sylvia asks.

Sophie shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“Soon,” I say.

“Well, now I feel special. Have you met his father, Michael?”

“Once or twice,” Sophie admits but doesn’t expand on it or sound thrilled.

“He means well, but he’s often stubborn like Mason.” Aunt Sylvia pats my leg.

Sophie chuckles, glancing at me with hooded eyes.

The signals she’s throwing my way are not going unnoticed.

So many stolen glances and unspoken words are exchanged as we continue to flip through the pages.

After we’ve gone through every album and Aunt Sylvia has embarrassed me beyond means, we decide to call it a night.

Before we leave, she puts the leftover food in to-go containers and makes us promise to come back. Thankfully, Sophie agrees. As Aunt Sylvia walks us to my truck, she thanks us for spending the evening with her.

“So when’s the wedding?” she asks with a wink. “You know, I can marry you two right here and now. We could deal with the paperwork another day.” She waves it off as if she’s talking about the weather.