21. Reed

Reed

21

I'm still buzzing when I make my way downstairs to Twisted Roses. Stepping inside, I find Lyla sitting behind the counter in the lobby, burning incense and flipping through a magazine.

It's a soothing scent that seeps to my nerves the moment I breathe it in.

I'm still trying to process what happened last night with Mason. The way he treated me like I mattered when I'm so used to feeling like I don't. How he took his time getting to know what makes me feel good. What makes me come.

I've never been held the way that he held me in his arms. And even if he was rough in all the ways that felt good, there was care behind it. It was the perfect balance of what I needed to feel safe and to let go. It was as if he knew exactly when to unleash and when to hold back.

Just thinking about it has my insides buzzing.

And if last night didn't already have my heart in a constant state of suspension, this morning had me floating up to the clouds. Something changed when I found out he learned to cook for me. He's already done so much by letting me stay with him, but he had to take it a step further.

I'm still reconciling his nurturing nature with his dark past, but every time I come to the same conclusion: Mason is a good man who has done bad things.

And I fail to find it in me to hold it against him.

"Hey, didn't expect to see you here today." Lyla smiles from behind the counter.

I walk over to her. "It feels like I've been working nonstop lately, and I just needed a break."

"Well, you picked a busy day to drop in. All of them are busy right now. I think Echo's finishing up, but she has another client right after. So, you're stuck with me." Lyla leans forward on the display case, smiling, even if she looks a little tired.

"Good thing you're one of my favorite people then." I reach for her hand and squeeze it. "How have you been feeling? Any better?"

"I wish." She sighs. "When they say the first trimester kicks your ass, they aren't joking. But at least I'm twelve weeks tomorrow, so hopefully, things will start to get better. And I made it out of the house today. That's a win, and I'm claiming it."

"As you should."

"Tell your brother that." Lyla rolls her eyes. "I swear I'm going to lose my mind if Sage insists that I spend another weekend in bed."

"He's just looking out for you."

"I know, and he's good at it." She smirks.

"Not what I meant by that..." I scrunch my nose.

"Just stating facts." She shrugs, unapologetically. "Speaking of looking out for people, why are you and Mason so cheery this morning?"

"I'm not cheery." The moment I say it, I know it's a lie.

I haven't stopped smiling since getting out of the shower after breakfast. I guess that's what happens when you get multiple orgasms first thing in the morning.

"You are such a liar, Reed." She shakes her head. "And so is he. If you think I'm going to believe for a second that you guys haven't done anything, you're mistaken. It's written all over both of your faces, and the second you talk to your brother, he's going to say the exact same thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Except that my legs are boneless, and I'm pretty sure I'm still floating.

"Mm-hmm," she hums.

When I propositioned Mason last night, I planned on it being a one-time thing to get it out of both of our systems. I don't think I'm ready to jump from one relationship to another, so I hoped he'd understand that. But waking up this morning, I can't deny what's growing between us.

One press of his lips to mine and there might not be any going back. No matter how slowly I water my feelings for him, they're bursting at the first hint of sunlight.

Is it too fast?

Is it safe?

Can I trust this?

I've fallen head over heels for a man before, and I'm still reeling from how that turned out.

Except, this feels different.

When I fell in love with Carter, I was searching for something I was missing. I liked the idea of him and the life he provided because it was different from the motorcycle club that raised me. He made me someone else, and it was easy to escape into that girl. So I ignored the signs when they started to sour.

With Mason, it's the opposite. He wants me to embrace myself. He doesn't judge me for my scars, and he doesn't shower me with affection just to get something out of it. Mason asks me to bloom on my own. He appreciates my flaws.

He doesn't just encourage the things that make this simple and easy. He wants the raw, messy truth.

We're embracing our true selves instead of trying to hide them.

Not that I know where it leaves us.

I'm a disaster, while Mason is wanted by so many girls. I'm not na?ve enough to think he won't get tired of me eventually. His wanting to feed into this undeniable attraction isn't the same as him wanting to try and build this into something more—especially when I'm still not sure I'm ready.

So even if Lyla suspects what we've done, I keep it to myself. If I tell her, she might make something of it that I'm not ready to accept yet.

"Alright, whatever you need to say to yourself to process this, I understand." Lyla reaches across the counter and takes my hand, squeezing it. "But when you are ready to talk, just know I'm here."

"I appreciate that more than you know." I smile. "So, I'm guessing he's busy then."

"Who?" She smiles, playing dumb. "The guy you refuse to talk about? Yes, he's busy working on a chest piece. But I'm sure he wouldn't mind you dropping in."

"It's fine. I can wait."

"I'm sure you can." Her gaze drops to my warm cheeks. "Well, feel free to hang out for a bit then."

Lyla holds up a small trash bag and starts making her way around the counter.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up a little bit so the group doesn't have to worry about it. They have plenty on their minds right now."

"I've got it." I snatch the trash bag out of her hands. "You should be sitting down. You're pregnant. Let us do the work."

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm incapable."

"Still." I pull the bag away when she tries to grab it from me. "Sit."

Lyla rolls her eyes, but she doesn't argue, sinking back onto the stool instead. Luckily, a customer walks in and distracts her before she can give me crap about trying to help.

I understand how difficult it is to let others do things for you when I struggle with it as well. But she needs to take care of herself.

Making my way down the hallway, I glance inside Mason's room as I walk by. His back is to me, so he doesn't notice me pause. His hair's still drying from his shower, and it's swept back. His broad shoulders flex with each movement as he drags the tattoo needle along his client's chest. He's focused, and for some reason, seeing him doing what he loves to do is the sexiest thing I've laid eyes on.

Watching him, I'm positive one night will never be enough.

Continuing down the hallway, I spot the guys in each of their individual rooms working with their clients. Echo is finishing up, wrapping a fresh tattoo, and laughing at whatever her client said. And I love the sense of family that lives between these walls.

Something I'm only now getting familiar with.

I didn't spend much time at Twisted Roses when I was younger. Lyla came here all the time because she was not-so-secretly obsessed with my brother. But I was too busy reading and studying to hang out at the tattoo shop.

Thinking back on those times now, I feel like an entirely different person. One who planned a whole life that went up in flames.

Even if I chased my professional dreams, I wasn't happy. I hadn't smiled without forcing it in years. Not until I came back and Mason breathed life into my heart.

I'm finally getting hints of the girl I forgot exists inside me. Someone who has her own passions and desires. Someone with dreams still worth chasing.

I remember a girl who led with her heart instead of her head.

A girl with a heart at all.

Mason reveals it, forcing me to listen to the urge of every beat. Asking me to feed it when it's been starving.

Whatever amount of time is allowed for getting over a relationship, I don't feel like I should be ready yet. But Mason makes me want to be ready.

He's uncovering the best in me.

I don't remember how long it's been since I felt loved. My heart hung onto Carter well past the point it should have when he left me out in the cold years ago. It was no longer a relationship. He was my toxic habit. The puzzle I was determined to solve, no matter how many times it came crashing down on me.

Carter haunts me, but I don't miss him. We're done. My heart is moving on, and I should be allowed that ounce of peace.

Opening the back door to Twisted Roses, it's a warm day in late winter, and I appreciate that about California. When I moved to the East Coast for college, I thought I wanted the change in seasons because I'd never experienced snow. But then I lived in it and realized being trapped inside from the weather wasn't any better for my head than being at the Twisted Kings compound.

I make my way over to the dumpster and lift the heavy lid, tossing the trash inside, and the moment it slams shut, a shiver runs through me. My eyes dart around the empty alleyway, but there's no one there, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Maybe I'm imagining things. Sage said Carter's been calling, but he hasn't shown up on my doorstep.

Spinning around, my heart nearly stops as my path is blocked. Dark eyes narrow down at me, dragging me straight back to the hell my mind escaped.

"Reed." Carter smiles, stepping closer. "I've missed you, baby."

My stomach plummets at the intensity of his dark, evil eyes. He's standing between me and the side door to Twisted Roses, and he's grinning as he skims me from head to toe.

I beg my feet to move—to dart around him. But I'm frozen in place.

I know I should run.

Or scream. Maybe one of the guys would hear it over the buzzing of the tattoo needles. But when I open my mouth to make a sound, all I do is stare at him—slack-jawed and breathless.

The strength I've mustered over these past couple of months is wiped away with one gleam of his eyes, resurrecting the fear he brings to life.

"What are you doing here?" I manage to choke out.

"Come on, Reed. You didn't think I'd just move on, did you?" Carter takes a step toward me.

He closes the distance, and the familiar scent of his musky cologne floods my senses. Blood rushes through my body, and I'm drowning in his scent—his presence.

"I've missed you so much, baby." He seals the gap between us, wrapping an arm around my waist and tangling the other one in the back of my hair. "You know I didn't mean any of those things I said. You're the only girl for me."

He's kissing the side of my face, roaming his hands over my back and my cheek.

And I'm standing, silently suffocating.

Dying a little with each graze of his palms over me.

"Carter." I plant my hands on his hard chest.

He still feels exactly like I remember. Like a concrete wall there's no punching through. I try to push him back a step, but he drains my strength in the same way he drains my soul.

His body pins me to the brick wall, and from the corner of my eye, I spot a man in a suit watching from one end of the alley.

He's not alone.

He's never alone.

Carter's bodyguards will make sure no one saves me.

"It's time to come home, Reed." Carter forces my chin up. "I've given you your space, but enough is enough."

Space?

That's what he thinks this is?

I try to push against his chest again, but he doesn't budge. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

I'm finding my fight—my will. I shove at his chest, even if he refuses to move. And the harder I hit, the quicker his expression shifts, as I've seen it do so many times—I've memorized it.

He cocks his head to the side, and pure darkness coats his expression. "That's not your call to make, baby."

"I think it is." Mason's voice comes from the other side of Carter, and in one swoop, Carter's body is pulled off me.

Mason positions himself between us with his arms crossed over his chest.

Carter stumbles from how easily Mason tossed him to the side. But when he finds his balance, he doesn't thrust himself forward. He stands tall, brushing the wrinkles from his dress shirt, and looking almost amused.

"Mason Zane," Carter says, smiling. "Your father has a lot to say about you."

"Funny." Mason's posture stiffens, but he doesn't budge from where he's blocking me. "I've got nothing to say about him."

Carter grits his teeth, looking from Mason to me. They're exact opposites—Carter in his usual dress slacks and shirt, while Mason's wearing jeans and a blue hoodie.

But while Carter is used to his money making him the most powerful man in the room, the energy radiating off Mason is all I feel. He towers over Carter and the tension is so thick it's on the verge of snapping.

"You've had your fun, Reed." Carter glares at me. "But we both know who you belong to."

Mason tries to step forward, but I grab his arm, stopping him. As much as I appreciate Mason wanting to defend me, Carter plays dirty. It's why he has guards on both ends of the alley, and one of them is now holding up a phone to record us. He wants Mason to make a move so he can send him to jail.

He doesn't fight his own battles. He plants the seeds and lets others take care of the mess for him.

He's weak.

A coward.

How am I just now seeing it?

"He isn't worth it," I say to Mason, stepping to his side.

Mason glances down at me, and his blue eyes burn with the fiercest heat. His hands are in fists, and his entire body is tense. It's taking everything for him not to pound Carter's face into the cement, but he pauses. He stops and listens.

He hears me.

Stepping back, he takes my hand, letting out a breath as I wrap my arms around one of his.

"Cute." Carter's gaze drops to where I'm holding onto Mason. "But you'll be back. And I'd reconsider what you're doing because the longer this goes on, the less patience I'm going to have for it."

Carter turns back down the alley, where his guards are closing in. And the moment he's gone, Mason pulls me into the shop, and I collapse against him.

Any strength I showed outside falls away with the tear slipping down my cheek. The floodgates open, and I break into pieces.

"It's going to be okay, Reed." He brushes the back of my hair while I cry against his chest. "It's going to be okay."

He says it again and again. So many times it becomes white noise, and I barely hear him. And as much as I want to believe him, I'm struggling at this moment.

Carter is never going to let me go, and I'm not sure how much longer I can fight this.