Page 30 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

Rushing to the bathroom, I can feel his eyes on me, burning my skin and taking away my ability to breathe.

It isn’t until I close the big wooden door and cut off his view to me that I can take my first breath since he sat down next to me.

The cool water rushing over my wrists calms me, if only the glimpse of the woman staring back at me in the mirror above the sink didn’t break my heart.

Not surprisingly, the door opens, and Emmett closes it behind her. Leaning against it, she looks at me with eyes full of pity.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing. I think Beau’s just a little heavy-handed with the tequila tonight. My margarita gave me a little scare. I’m good, though. Thanks for checking on me.”

“You seemed fine until Miles sat down.”

“Nah, it’s all good.”

“Mason, who are you trying to kid?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, knowing she sees right through me. But for some reason, I feel the need to drag this out.

“Come on. You don’t believe your own crap about not being able to be with him. It’s obvious.”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” Her face says I’m stupid for even asking.

“Do you think anyone else noticed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Miles noticed?”

“Mason, he knows you better than the rest of us. Of course he noticed.”

“Shit. ”

“He knows, and that’s why he has no intention of giving up on you.” She rubs my back sweetly. “Except you broke his heart.”

“Emmett…”

“Why don’t you go put it back together?” Her voice is sweet, yet underneath, I hear the sound of one of his chosen family members, a member of The Crew.

“Emmett, trust me. It’s better to end it now.”

“I don’t want to hear the whole ‘I’m going back to New York in a few weeks’ crap.”

She turns the faucet off, pulls two paper towels from the dispenser, and hands them to me. Clearly, my hiding out in the ladies’ room has come to an end. The look on her face says she’s not amused.

“Emmett, I think I’m gonna just go home,” I say defeated.

“Oh no, you’re not. I may not know you well, but I know enough to know you aren’t a quitter. You, Mason O’Brien, are a strong, independent woman who is not going to let a night out get squashed because you can’t stand to be in the same bar as Miles Montgomery.”

“It’s not like he did anything wrong, you know. He was just being himself after all. I’m just not sure if the strong woman I like to think I am is strong enough to be in a relationship with a man like him. As perfect as him?”

“Blech.” She sticks her forefinger in her mouth like she’s going to make herself throw up. “Whatever you do, never let him hear you call him perfect. We don’t need things like that going to his overinflated head. We’ll just keep that to ourselves. Sound good?” she says, pulling open the door.

I laugh, agreeing with her request.

The laughter is fleeting because as soon as we begin to cross the bar, our eyes lock, and as always, I find him watching me.

Had he been watching the door, waiting for us to come back out?

He’s still sitting in the same spot he got up from for me, but when we get within a few feet, he gets up and walks away .

The booth now consists of Rachel, Amelia, Emmett, and myself. Miles and Reece are at the bar with a group of friends, but there is a rope of tension between us pulled so tight if one of us loosens our grip, we’ll go tumbling to the ground.

I sip my margarita while the girls tell stories about growing up in Eastlyn, and even though I hear every word and laugh at the appropriate moments, my mind is never off the CEO farm boy at the bar.

Thirty minutes later, out of the corner of my eye I see Miles dragging a middle-aged woman onto the dance floor. He spins her in and out and all around the hardwoods.

“Rach, looks like your parents are here, but as per usual, Miles stole your mom already,” Amelia points out.

“Of course, he did. She thinks that boy hung the moon. She needs his kind of fun tonight, though. She’s so stressed about me going to Africa.” She’s looking at me when she speaks. Telling me without words that this is what he does. He makes people feel good.

From the looks of it, Rachel isn’t kidding. Her mom is all smiles, and you can hear her squeals of delight all the way over here.

There’s no keeping my eyes off him or the smile from my face.

He’s right.

This is one of the reasons I love him.

He’s a flirt.

But in the best way.

He makes people happy.

He dances with them.

He jokes with them.

He makes them feel good.

He makes me feel good.

The song changes, and Rachel yells, “Let’s go girls! ”

Emmett pulls me out of the booth, dragging me behind her to the dance floor where everyone is lining up in rows.

Shit. It’s a line dance. The only line dance I know is the electric slide, and this isn’t it.

“Emmett!” I yell over the music, trying to pull away from her. “I don’t know this dance!”

“Come on. Just follow along, and you’ll pick it up quick.”

“No, really. I’m just gonna…”

His big hands grab my hips. His breath floats over my hair when he says, “I’ll teach you.”

I don’t resist. And I don’t tell him no.

Instead, I do the opposite and let him guide me through the dance. I trip over my own feet, I bonk my head with his a couple of times, and I laugh. Just like Rachel’s mom.

Why?

Because that’s what Miles does.

I know he’s not Grant, and I also know I’ve never laughed like this with him. But as soon as the song ends, the insecurity comes flooding back, and I try to make a fast break. Grabbing my hand, Miles has other ideas. Much to his joy and my dismay, the next song is a slow one.

Pulling me into his arms like we’re at a high school dance, we sway back and forth while the other couples on the dance floor two-step around us. We don’t speak and to avoid eye contact I press my forehead against his shoulder.

Internally, I know it looks like I’m caving already, but like Emmett said, I’m not a quitter. I’ve made a decision, and I’m going to stick to it. I won’t cause a scene, though. I’m going to finish this dance, then go home.

When the song ends, I finally brave a look up, and where I thought I would find his usual charming smile I’m met with a face serious as a heart attack.

My stomach starts to feel queasy again.

“Thanks for the dance. I’m gonna head home. ”

“You walk?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s still light out.”

“I’ll walk you.”

Walking away from him, I yell over my shoulder and the Thomas Rhett song now playing. “No thank you. I’ll be fine.”

He yells back, “Meet you by the door after you’ve said your goodbyes.”

Great.

The group is standing near the bar, watching us. Miles gets to them before me. I do my best to ignore him and focus on the girls as I tell them goodbye.

“Rachel, it was great to meet you, and I hope your trip is amazing. I really appreciate you including me tonight, but I’m gonna head home.”

“Thank you for coming. I know you weren’t really in the mood.

” She smiles, pulling me into a hug. “Give him a shot. I think you’ll be surprised to find he won’t let you down.

” She gives me a squeeze, and when she pulls back, she gives me a wink and motions toward the door with her head. “Someone’s waiting for you.”

Sure enough, Miles is at the exit leaning against the wall.

Not sure what else to say to her, I wish her and Reece safe travels waving at the rest of the group and apprehensively cross the bar. Before I reach him, he pushes the door open with one arm and wordlessly ushers me through with his free hand.

There aren’t any words exchanged on the walk home, but the way he takes my hand, linking my fingers with his and not letting go until we reach the front door clearly says he’s not giving up. He stands with his hands in his pockets with no intention of moving.

“It was really nice of you to walk me home,” I say, staring intently on the keyhole while I unlock the door. Anything not to look at the eyes I avoided all the way here. “I’m sure they’re waiting for you, though, so good night and thanks again. ”

“Why did you wear that dress tonight?”

Shit.

“Why, what’s wrong with this dress?”

I’m playing stupid, but I don’t know what else to say or do.

“Mase, give me a break.”

“Listen, thanks again. Have a good…”

He cuts me off. “Let’s just stop with all of the bullshit, shall we?”

“What bullshit? I’m just saying good night.”

“Why did you wear the dress you were wearing the first time I made love to you?”

I stare at my feet, feeling what I don’t know.

“Were you trying to hurt me even more than you already had?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I notice everything about you, Mason.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t even gonna go, but the girls showed up and dug through my closet, and this is what they threw at me to put on.”

“You had no control over what you wore tonight? You’re trying to blame the girls for wearing something you knew would have an impact?”

“I guess I didn’t give it much thought.”

“You did too, and you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m glad you wore it because it means you care. You wanted a reaction, and you sure as shit got one.”

I’m not big on lying, lying to myself excluded, so I don’t reply to his assumption.

“Well, have a good rest of your night. I’ll see you around,” I say to the stubborn man infiltrating my space.

Be strong, Mason.

Do not ask him to come in.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mason. ”

He’s serious. He doesn’t sound angry, but he does sound deadly serious.

“Come on, it’s Reece and Rachel’s going away. Everyone is expecting you to come back.”

“I’m taking them to the airport in the morning. It’s all good.”

“Miles…”

“If you don’t mind me coming in, I’d like to talk.”

He’s keeping his hands to himself, but the softness in his eyes pierces through me, grabbing me with all his might and not letting go.

I turn away from him and walk inside, leaving the door open behind me.

He follows, closing the door and locking it once he’s in the house.

I slip my shoes off and strategically collapse in the overstuffed armchair only meant for one.

If I’m going to keep my wits about me, I cannot give him the opportunity to get too close.

Instead of taking a seat, he picks up one of the fifty throw pillows on the couch and paces the room with it pulled tight to his chest.

“Mason, I want you to know that I hear you.”

Making sure I’m listening, he stops to look at me, really look at me, while still hugging his pillow.

“I know you’ve been hurt before, and I know because of this you have your guard up, but your whole plan to end things now before they’ve really started isn’t going to work for me.”

Now the pillow is behind his head. And I can’t help but stare at his toned biceps. It’s completely inappropriate to be checking him out right now, but I am only human, after all. And they’re huge!

“You see, I’m not your ex. I’m not going to hurt you. How could I when I’ve been waiting for you for so damn long?”

He and his pillow finally drop to the couch. He sits on the edge, getting as close to me as he can. Our knees are a breath apart, but he doesn’t try to touch me.

“If I’m being honest, it hurts when you compare me to him. I don’t deserve it. I’m nothing like him, and I’d really like the chance to prove it to you.”

My heart betrays me, my head and my body following suit when I reach for his hand.

“Mason, I know your life is in New York, and I know it makes our situation seem impossible to you, but why don’t we give us a chance before you go throwing hurdles in the way?

I’m a man of means, and you can write anywhere.

I’m not asking you to move your life, but I am asking you to see the possibility of us. ”

Standing in front of me, he offers me his hand.

“City Mouse, I’m exhausted. These past twenty-four hours were harder on me than an entire harvest. I don’t care if we keep our clothes on and sleep on top of the covers, but I’m sleeping with you in my arms.”

“Miles, I…”

“Just stop, Mason.”

I don’t know if it’s my own exhaustion or knowing that he’s right.

Heck, everyone is right.

I’m crazy about him, and the only thing I want to do is to crawl into bed with him and sleep in his arms.

So I take his hand, and we walk silently to the bedroom.

Waiting to see if I want to sleep on top of or under the covers, he crosses his arms over his chest, letting me take the lead.

Pulling back the bedding, I slip off my dress and climb into bed. He strips down to nothing but his underwear and crawls in with me. He lies on his back, holding his arm open to me, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

My arms wrap around him, and my leg is tangled between his. He kisses me on the top of the head, and we hold each other.

He doesn’t try to keep explaining why he’s different or how we’ll deal with the distance. He simply holds me close while simultaneously giving me the space to think.

The possibility of us.