Mason cares about me? But didn’t he say he didn’t love me, that he didn’t want this marriage either?

Then I remember Mason’s words earlier.

I’m lucky I married you.

So he really does care about me?

It’s not just what he said. It was also how he was looking at me. Yes, he’s looked at me before, but this was different. I didn’t feel like I was being attacked, like I was suffocating. I didn’t feel like I was being made to surrender. The look in his eyes wasn’t the usual strong wind threatening to blow me away. It was a gentle breeze, warm and soothing. That’s why I wasn’t ready for it. That’s why I couldn’t fight it. If Jenna hadn’t knocked, Mason probably would have kissed me. And I don’t think I would have pushed him away.

That’s the thing. I didn’t feel like pushing him away.

It’s confusing. Scary even. I can’t just give in, though. Just because my dad thinks Mason cares for me doesn’t mean it’s real. Besides, wouldn’t I have noticed it myself? Shouldn’t he have tried to tell me by now?

Then I remember that first kiss. Does that mean that Mason already cared for me then? But he said afterwards that he was just trying to shut me up, and then he said some other mean things.

No. I don’t know how he feels. For all I know, he was only trying to thank me earlier. That’s what that look was. Gratitude. And maybe a bit of pride. Why am I reading so much into it?

“Aster?” my dad calls my attention. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I answer.

He doesn’t look like he believes me. “I know you. I know that look. You were thinking of something serious.”

“That’s because I did something serious today,” I tell him. “I didn’t just take a tour of Mason’s operations center. I helped design a brochure for his company.”

My dad’s eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“Really. And I had fun.” More than I expected.

I touch my chin.

“Maybe I should ask him to give me a job.”

My dad chuckles. “Why not? I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

~

That was exactly what I intended to do – wait for Mason to come home and talk to him about it – but I fell asleep while I was still waiting. Now that I’m awake and the clock reads a little past eleven, I decide to see if he’s already back so I can accomplish my objective at last.

I check the living room first. No one there. I check the library. Empty. I try the door to his office. It’s locked.

I frown. He’s not home yet?

To be sure, I pass by his room. The door is open. The bedside lamps are on. Mason is on the bed, sleeping. He’s still in his suit, though, and his laptop is just beside him.

He must still have had work to do but was so tired that he just nodded off the moment his head hit the pillow.

I stare at Mason’s face. Even though we were neighbors, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him asleep. Even in sleep, he looks guarded, serious. I almost think he’s like a statue with those still, perfectly chiseled features, but then his eyelids flutter to let me know he’s dreaming.

So he dreams like every other human. His lips start to move, though I can’t hear what he’s mumbling. And is that a whimper?

I should find it funny. Instead, I surprisingly find it cute. Ridiculous, I know. If Mason finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it. But yes, right now, he is sleeping adorably like a child.

I have an urge to get a blanket from another room and throw it over him. At the very least, I should turn off the lights so he can sleep better. I don’t want to risk waking him, though, so I carefully step away from the door. I’ve just managed the second step when I hear Mason gasp.

He’s awake.

And he’s panting. His shoulders and chest heave. His eyes seem about to pop out of their sockets, his features twisted in fear and anguish. His hands clench into trembling fists at his side.

So that dream wasn’t pleasant at all, huh?

I can’t stay away any longer. I run to Mason and touch his arm. He jerks it away and turns his head towards me, glaring. Is he really awake? Can he see me? Can he recognize me?

The sharp look in his eyes makes my chest tighten in fear. An alarm goes off in my head and a voice screams for me to get away from him.

Instead, I touch his arm again and say his name.

“Mason.”

This time, he doesn’t flinch. I stroke his arm and the haze over his eyes slowly start to fade. Finally, I see a gleam of recognition in them as his features soften.

“Aster?”

I wrap my arms around him. The sweat on his nape transfers to my skin. I don’t mind. I know I was the one who said no physical contact, but I have a feeling he needs this right now. He needs me.

Tags: Ashlee Price Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net