24. Reed

Reed

24

"What is this place?" My eyes scan the desert as Mason's car rolls to a stop on a large piece of land miles away from the Las Vegas Strip.

Directly in the center of it is a stunning home. It's modest in size but stands out with the simple lines and modern feel. The exterior is white and bright, like the sun hovering directly over it. And there are more windows than I'd expect with it sitting in the middle of a desert.

Las Vegas temperatures might be nice now, but this city is known for their summer heat waves. And the amount of glass could easily turn this place into an oven.

"This is my house." Mason climbs out of the car, circling to my door.

He swings it open, holding out his hand for me.

"Your house?" My eyebrows pinch. "I thought you moved to LA?"

"Technically, yeah." He slips his fingers through mine as we make our way to the front door. "But I haven't had it in me to sell this place yet."

"Do you think you'll move back eventually?" I pause at the front door when he pulls out his keys to unlock it.

My question has my stomach in knots, even if I haven't decided if I'm staying in LA either.

He glances over at me, his gaze skimming from my eyes to my mouth, and I wonder what he's reading on my face, when I know I'm not hiding anything well right now.

"No." He shakes his head. "I don't plan on coming back here permanently. I'm just not ready to get rid of the house yet."

His confirmation makes the desert air feel lighter as I follow him inside. And once I do, I can see why he's in no hurry to sell the place.

"This is beautiful." My jaw goes slack as I look around.

It's an almost entirely wide-open space with a staircase on one side that extends to an upper level. Everything is white and gray, as bright as it was on the outside. And sitting on the side of the house that faces the sunrise is a courtyard filled with cacti and desert plants.

The walls are made entirely of tinted glass to offer a view of the stretch of desert. There are big loungers to relax in, and it's stunning.

"You okay?" Mason smirks as he sets our bags down on the table in the open-plan kitchen.

"This place is incredible." I'm still wide-eyed when I look at him. "Are you loaded, or are you just joking that you own the house?"

He tips his head back and laughs. "It's mine. I got access to my trust fund when my grandparents passed away. That's how I bought and maintain this place."

"I'm confused." I glance around at the incredible home. "You own something as nice as this, but you're renting Sage's crappy apartment above the shop? Why?"

Not that I can judge when I'm staying there as well. But it doesn't make sense if Mason can afford this house.

Mason looks around his home. "I like living above the shop. It's nice out here, but it's also really fucking quiet."

I follow his gaze around the room. The decor is simple and sleek, but the more I take it in, it doesn't feel like him.

"Besides, I never really cared about the money." He rests his hands on the counter. "I didn't work for it. It isn't mine."

I meet him in the kitchen, taking his hand.

"In LA, I'm not Mason Zane, casino heir. I'm just some guy inking people, paying my rent, and getting by. My inheritance from my grandparents is enough to keep this place maintained for now, but eventually, I'll have to sell it or figure something else out. Until then, I'm parking the funds here so I don't blow it. Unlike my dad who turned his inheritance into more family blood money."

He squeezes my hand, and a familiar cloud hangs above him at the mention of his father. It's impossible to know what we're walking into tomorrow when we go to the hotel, but when he talks about his dad, I see a side Mason rarely shows. A side he escaped when he moved to LA.

"Starting over can be a good thing." I smile, and he returns it with one of his own. "I get that."

After all, I left everything in San Francisco. My clothes, my furniture, my savings. I didn't need money or possessions if they would keep me tied to Carter. And I was lucky to have my brother and Mason there to catch me when I fell. To look out for me. They afforded me the security so many women in my position don't have.

I look up into Mason's blue eyes and want to lift on my toes and kiss him. I want him to wrap his arms around me so we can fall into the comfort of each other when we're at a loss for words. And I'm not sure if it's because I slept in my own bed last night that I'm holding back or if it's because I appreciate that I can stand here with him in silence, but I don't move.

We hold hands and just pause when the world's been spinning so fast it refuses to slow for a single second.

We exist in this moment—two broken people still trying to figure ourselves out.

My stomach breaks our focus by rumbling and Mason laughs. I haven't eaten since dinner last night, and my body is finally taking notice. My cheeks warm with embarrassment as my stomach growls again.

"Sorry."

"For being hungry?" Mason shakes his head. "Sticks, you need to stop apologizing when you've got nothing to be sorry for."

Mason walks deeper into the kitchen, swinging open the refrigerator, and it's stocked with food.

"Doesn't that stuff expire?" I stop beside him, glancing at a milk carton.

"I had it stocked this morning. It's fine."

"You had it stocked this morning?" I tick an eyebrow at him.

"Hence why this place is so fucking expensive. A company looks after it while I'm gone. Maintenance, cleaning, stocking it before I come to town."

I laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just make it all sound so normal."

He shrugs. "That's how I grew up."

"Hey, I'm not judging." I nudge his shoulder. "I grew up surrounded by sex, drugs, and bikers. We all have our flaws."

"My trust fund is a flaw now?" He props his arm up on the refrigerator door, watching me. "I could spoil you with that flaw, you know."

Gripping the counter, I hop onto it, sitting facing him. "I don't want your money, Mason."

Carter had plenty of that. It never did me any good.

"Well, I'm not going to lie, that's refreshing." He watches me tap my heels against the cabinet. "That's all anyone here cared about. It's one of the reasons I left."

"Is it really any better in LA?"

"Girls in LA don't know I have money."

"That's not what I mean." I pause my feet. "In Vegas, it was money, but in LA, it's sex. You're offering whatever you're comfortable giving, so long as you don't have to actually open up. Doesn't matter the resource if you're still just letting them use you for one thing or another."

When I first met Mason, I wasn't blind to what he was doing. He made his way through women like he was running out of time. But it didn't make him any happier when he was using them to solve his problems. The same way I use research and work to forget about mine.

"Guess you're right." He closes the refrigerator, leaning against it to watch me. "I let them use me because it was easier. And I used them back for the same fucking reason. But I'm not anymore. Do you want to know why?"

I bite my lower lip, not knowing how to answer, and thankful he doesn't wait for me to.

"I'll tell you why..." Mason walks over to me, planting his hands on my knees and spreading my legs apart so he can stand between them. "I've been running for a long time. I haven't shown anyone who I really am for as far back as I can remember because I never had anything to offer anyone but money or sex."

"That's not true." I wrap my arms around his neck.

His hands rove up my thighs and around my ass until they're resting on the curve of my hips.

"You're right, Reed. That's not true anymore. But only because of you." He squeezes me closer, sliding my body toward him. "You see me for shit I didn't think was important before I met you."

Leaning in, he plants a kiss on my cheek. It's the sweetest, most innocent thing. And it floods me with guilt.

"What if I'm just using you like they did, Mason? Even if I don't mean to?" I rest my forehead against his chest. "What if it's just easier to lose myself in someone else so I don't have to face being alone again."

"Reed." He reaches for my chin and turns my face up to his. "You can use me all you want if it means I can have you for even just a little bit."

"That's not fair to you." I shake my head. "It's why I slept in my own bed last night."

"I figured."

"I'm sorry."

"What did I say about being sorry?"

My shoulders deflate. "I'm not saying I'm using you intentionally—or that I even am—because I don't want to be, Mason. But I'm also still sorting through a lot of crap. Everything's so mixed up; I don't know what I'm feeling right now. You're giving it all up for me, and I'm not even sure what I can offer you at the end of this."

Mason looks into my eyes, and I feel myself on the verge of crying. It burns my throat as I choke it back. If I was smart, I'd let myself fall for him. Mason is the kind of man who can love a girl right. Without fear. Without pain.

But he's the type of man who deserves a girl with a whole heart to give, not whatever shattered mess is beating inside me.

A tear slips down my cheek, and he cups my face in his hands, wiping it away with his thumb. His blue eyes trace every line of my face.

"I'm not going anywhere, Reed. And I know it's selfish, and probably stupid, to want you when you're going through everything you are right now. But like I said, you're worth it. Even if in the end you decide I'm not."

I open my mouth to argue, but he plants his thumb over my lips. It's still wet with my tears, and the salty taste of our truths strike my tastebuds.

"I don't need your reassurance right now." He shakes his head. "Just let me be here for you."

He pulls his hand away, and I should tell him he's worth it too—because he is. Mason is worth so much more than anyone in his life has given him credit for.

But instead of admitting that truth, I lift my chin and pull him down for a kiss. And I'm thankful he lets that be enough. Because if I thought breaking was the hard part, I was wrong. Healing the wounds is so much worse.