The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (111 page)

I look at the redhead, and the man now sitting next to her. His arm thrown behind her back. Her hand resting on his thigh.

Oh.

Nice, Brooke. Very nice.

Mason gestures at the couple. “These are some mates of mine from Alabama. Tessa, and her boyfriend, Luke. They came up to see my studio and do some sightseeing.” He looks down at me, smirking. “You remember me mentioning Tessa, right, sweetheart?”

“Mm.” I nod through tightly pinched lips.

Chuckling, Mason wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his side. He looks at his friends. “And this is my Brooke.”

My heart thumps loudly in my chest, echoing in my bones.

His Brooke.

I release the slowest, calmest breath of my life as Tessa and Luke regard me familiarly.

For the first time since I’ve met Mason, I don’t feel unsure. The expectant worry that usually accompanies being this public with him is gone. Vanished. There’s no trace of it.

This is easy. God, it’s so easy standing here with him, being his, and it’s undeniably everything I want. I realize this is what it feels like to be someone’s only. To want to be that. And to hear someone declare their love for you just in the way they acquaint you with others.

A dizzying sensation moves through me like a coiling stream. I feel fuller and weightless all at once.

He loves me. Wow. That’s what this feels like.

Raising a limp hand, I smile apologetically at the two of them, more so at Tessa. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about earlier. I’m not usually like that.”

She tilts her head. “No? I’ve heard you’re a bit ballsy. It’s all good. I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Babe, you have,” Luke adds, laughing. “Who are you kidding?” He holds out his hand and shakes mine. “Sorry I missed the show. I was grabbing drinks.”

“Yeah, me too. Way to be absent. I’m probably banned from eating here now.”

We all share a laugh, and I notice Tessa smiling up at Mason.

“Can you stay?” he asks, sliding his hand to my back as I spin to face him.

I shake my head. “No. Dylan’s at a doctor’s appointment so it’s just me and Joey running the shop. I really need to grab some food and get back.”

He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ll go inside with you.”

I say my goodbyes and another round of apologies to Luke and Tessa. Mason keeps his arms around me as we wait in line to place my order. I bury my face in his neck. We laugh about how we’ve become one of
those
couples, and we both agree we don’t really give a fuck.

He insists on paying for my food and walks me to the corner of the street where he grabs my face and presses hot, hungry kisses to my mouth and neck.

“I gotta go,” I plead, but my hand holds tight to his shirt, my lips still moving against his.

He kisses me once more and leans away. “Can you come by after you get off? I’m teaching this special class tonight I want you to see.”

“Special?” I flash him a devilish smile. “As in private?”

He laughs. “More private than usual, yes. Will you come?”

I giggle at his innuendo. He swats at my ass.

God, yes. I will be coming.

After waving goodbye to Joey after work and telling him to
not
wait up for me at all tonight, I cross the street and open the door to Mason’s studio.

I’m expecting my skin to prick with sweat the minute I step inside. My lungs to adjust to the sultry air. That’s the first difference I notice.

The temperature is comfortable. How it is when Mason isn’t teaching a class. A cool seventy degrees. The second thing I notice is the panel of spectators standing off to the side observing. Some of them snapping pictures.

Older people, mostly. Parents, by the looks of it. They look proud. I’m quickly reminded of my own mom and dad when I used to compete in cheerleading competitions.

I step further into the room and avert my attention to the actual group participating in the lesson. A profound awareness builds around me. Mason’s invitation takes on an entirely different meaning as I smile at the young adults posed on their mats, most of them probably close to my age. All of them sharing similar physical characteristics.

I suddenly feel like the biggest asshole for interpreting his request the way I did.

God, Brooke. Tact. Learn it.

I spot Mason toward the back of the room. He’s helping a young woman hold a pose where her body is forming an upside down V. Her hands and feet flat on the mat. She giggles and drops to her knees, then rolls to her hip. Her laughter is infectious, and soon others join in.

The woman beside me laughs quietly and whispers to the woman standing next to her.

“He’s so great, isn’t he? Look how much they’re all enjoying this!”

I slide closer along the wall, keeping my attention on Mason as he convinces the girl to try again. She shakes her head, grinning, but ultimately going for it and stretching into the pose.

“I know. I was so excited when Kendall wanted to give this a try. Trish said he’s offering this once a week, with a substantial discount. More than half-off. If they like it, I’m all for it, you know? It’s good for them.”

The woman beside me makes an appreciative humming noise. “The world needs more people like him.”

More people like him.

Mason.

With a sigh, my head hits the wall. I gaze across the room at the one person who has completely surprised me in every possible way. From his unconventional dating method, to his irresistible persistence, to his sweet soul he shares with the world.

My Mason.

I begin to take in quick, shallow breaths the longer I stand here. Something shifts, my lungs and other organs making room for my heart to expand and take over.

Who cares, right? Adore him now, stabilize my breathing later.

What? That’s crazy. I need to breathe. More than anything else, I need to keep breathing.

I close my eyes.
Breathe, Brooke.
I feel myself slipping, sliding under the water and sinking to the bottom.

This is madness. Beautiful, terrifying madness.

I can’t breathe.

I love him.

My eyes fly open. Mason smiles at me. My heart reacts without pause, battering against my sternum.

What.

The.

Fuck . . .

I love him. He made me fall in love with him. That’s exactly what happened. He didn’t give me a choice in this. I’ve never had any control in this situation. From the beginning, it’s been all him.

I bet this was his plan all along. Pull me in. Pull me under.

Well, now I’m fucking drowning, you gorgeous bastard.

In a panic, I move off from the wall and grab Mason’s attention again, waving goodbye and ignoring his puzzled look. Pushing through the door, I dart down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of my car.

I run, and run and run and run.

To the nearest liquor store.

If I’m sinking with this guy, I’m going down my way.

MASON

“Next week, then. Have a good night.”

I wave to everyone, parents and attendees as they leave the studio after class. Trish gives me a gracious look on her way out, silently thanking me for the third time tonight for orchestrating this.

She doesn’t need to thank me. I’ve wanted to get something like this started for years, and without her help spreading the word I’m not sure when or if it would’ve happened. I’m the one who’s grateful. Elated, actually. I’m running on a mysterious energy. The best kind of high. What a difference from yesterday and the day before when I tortured myself by avoiding all contact with Brooke.

Now, I don’t need to avoid her. I just need to find her.

Where the hell did she run off to?

I take the stairs two at a time and burst through the door, stepping out into my loft. After turning on the nearby lamp, I swipe my phone off the table and dial her number. It rings until her voicemail clicks over. My eyes pinch shut.

For fuck’s sake, Brooke.

Worry pricks at my encouraging mood. Is she having a minor freak out? Over-thinking things again? And so soon . . . I was at least hoping for a few days of bliss with her before I had to talk her off another ledge.

I shoot her a quick text, asking if everything is all right, then strip off my shirt and toss it onto a chair.

I step into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. I run my wet hands through my hair and along the back of my neck. My reflection stares back at me, one I recognize from the past two days. Laden with uncertainty and tension.

Fucking hell. She
ran
out of here. She ran away from
me
.

As I debate on taking an actual shower to keep myself here and not pacing the streets, a habit I’ve acquired as of recently, a knock sounds on the front door, startling me. I move swiftly through the room and tug on the handle.

Brooke pushes past me the second the door swings open. I inhale a lung full of soft vanilla.

She’s here. That’s a good sign. I begin to breathe a bit easier, my anxious mind starting to settle.

“Hey. You had me worried. I thought maybe you were changing your mind.” I close the door and watch her move into the kitchen.

She sets a bottle on the table. Tall, amber in color. Tequila.

Our eyes lock.

All right. Instead of pulling away, I’m now driving her to drink? Not sure this classifies as progress or not.

“Everything all right, Brooke?”

A small laugh bubbles on her lips. She unscrews the bottle, bringing it to her mouth for a taste. “I am so mad at you right now.”

I watch her take a sip, then another. “Why?”

“Why?” she echoes, pointing at me with the bottle in her hand. Her eyes narrow. “You know exactly why.” Taking another sip, she moves around the room with the bottle, gesturing with her free hand. “How long have you been planning this for, Mason? Since that first day, in front of your studio? Or maybe in the alley when I made you lay it all out there for me? Was this always your motive?”

She takes another sip of tequila as she paces in front of the window.

I rub my jaw, moving closer to the bed. I have no idea what she’s referring to. “Brooke, what exactly . . .”

“I mean, you knew!” she yells, not in anger though. Disbelief maybe? Her voice breaks with a short burst of laughter. “You knew from that first day what I wanted out of this. From that
first day
. It wasn’t a secret. Then you go and convince me to try things your way, with false intentions, I might add.”

She lifts her head, stopping, staring at me from across the room. Her shoulders relaxing with the breath she expels.

“I only wanted to have sex with you. That’s it. But the more time we spent together, the less I thought about what I wanted. And
you
, your entire argument was you wanted us to know each other before that happened. To really know each other, right? But you knew me when we went camping. You knew me then, Mason, didn’t you?”

I think about how close I felt to Brooke that weekend, including during her unfortunate tick encounter and the mess that followed. Our talk in the tent before we crashed that first night, and our adventure together the next day.

She’s right. I knew her. Well enough to take things where we both wanted.

“Yeah,” I reply, nodding.

There’s no point in lying about this.

“And you didn’t give in. You didn’t take me that weekend.”

She doesn’t allow me to respond. I don’t really need to anyway. We were both there.

“That’s not all you were waiting for,” she concludes with a keen arch of her brow.

“No.”

“This was never just about us knowing each other.”

“No.”

Shaking her head through a tight laugh, she takes one last swig of the tequila before setting it on the window ledge. “Who else?” she asks quietly, facing away from me.

I know what she means. I don’t need to ask for clarification on this.

When all of this started with Brooke, I told her I didn’t do a meaningless fuck anymore, but I never told her I didn’t plead for this with anyone else. Or that I never wanted it this bad with someone before.