Truly Yours (Mason & Sophie 2, Roommate Duet 4)

Mason raises his hands. “Sorry, I thought you heard me.”

“No, I was too busy watching my sisters taunt each other.” I follow him into the living room but don’t sit down. “And yeah, it was fun.” I smile. “I think I’m gonna go to bed, though.”

“Are you staying home from work still?” he asks, his eyes so caring and filled with concerned.

“Yeah, I think I will be for a while. It just isn’t in me right now,” I admit, though it pains me to say. Playing the violin has always come so natural to me, but lately, it’s been hard. I used to crave it. Practicing would breathe life into me as I hit the notes and made music, but not anymore.

“Take as long as you need, Soph. There’s no rush,” he reassures me. “I’m sure your director understands.”

I nod. “He does. Thankfully.”

Mason wraps his arms around me and cradles my head as he hugs me to his chest. I inhale his musky scent, the one I miss so damn much, and lose myself in it for a moment. Before putting space between us, he kisses my forehead, but his lips linger before he releases me.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and turns around. I know he’s fighting the urge to touch me, and it makes me feel like shit for putting this space between us. But it’s what I need to do until I find myself again.

“Mason, wait.” I take a step, and he spins to face me. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Uh, sure.” The corner of his lips tips up. “You can ask me anything.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I flash a nervous smile. “Can I have your shirt?”

One brow arches as he stares at me. “My shirt?”

“Yeah.” I nod and swallow tightly. “I took one with me to Utah, and well, the smell is kinda fading. So can I have the one you’re wearing? It helps me sleep.” I shrug, embarrassed to admit that.

Mason smiles and pulls his shirt off, then hands it to me. “You can have any shirt you want, sweetheart.”

I hold it in my hands against my chest. With Mason’s abs on full display, it’s hard to look away. “Thank you.” I suck in the smell, grinning. “I’m sorry for—”

He cuts me off before I can continue. “Don’t be, Soph. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’m here,” he reminds me, cupping my face and rubbing a thumb along my cheek, so soft and sweet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Nodding, I flash him a weak smile before turning and walking to my room. It’s not until I shut my door that I catch him watching me. He gives me a wink before turning to go upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as I shut my door, I sink to the floor, tears covering my cheeks as I bury my face in his shirt.

I hate that I can’t fight this; this feeling of being so damn weak and ignorant. I want to lean on him, but I can’t always depend on someone else to lift me up. I allowed a terrible man into our lives, and Mason may forgive me for it, but I can’t forgive myself.

Not this time.

Chapter Nine

Mason

Trying to give Sophie the space she needs while showing her that I’m here for her no matter what is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I want to tell her every day how much I love her, how much I want us to be together, and that we can get through this. We can get through anything. I want to shower her with kisses and hold her while she falls asleep.

But I can’t do any of those things while she works on herself, and I’m determined to respect that. But fuck me if it isn’t a struggle.

It’s been four days since she’s been home and not hearing her play her violin has been a hard reality to swallow. When I spoke about it to Hunter, he said Lennon went through something similar after Brandon died. She used to sing in the shower daily, and then she just stopped. For months. It broke his heart, and it’s breaking mine to see Sophie’s pain written all over her gorgeous face.

She goes to her first therapy session this afternoon, and I hope it can help her move forward. I know my words of encouragement can only help so much, and it’s not enough, but the selfish part of me wished it was.

“Morning,” I say when she walks into the kitchen. Sophie’s hair is a wild mess on top of her head, but it looks cute as hell. For the past few days, she’s met me out here for breakfast before I have to leave for work. Though I want to stay home with her all day, I know that won’t help things. “How’d you sleep?” I ask with a hint of amusement in my tone when she brushes a hand over her bun.