Sophie: I’ll invite everyone. I’m sure they’ll come.
Maddie: Thank you! I love you! Gotta go back to class.
Sophie: Mmhmm. Love you too.
I crank the car and drive home thinking about Maddie and how I hope she stays safe. I don’t want her to go through what I have, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect her from all the crazy assholes out in the world. Rushing into a relationship with anyone isn’t worth it, and though I know she has a thing for Liam, I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen. She’s beautiful, sassy, and sometimes a little naïve, which makes me worry about her that much more.
Soon, I’m pulling into the driveway, feeling relieved to be home. Before I get out, I look around, making sure nothing seems out of place or suspicious. It’s the paranoia, I know, but that doesn’t stop me from checking. I grab my purse and hurry inside, quickly locking the door behind me. That’s when I realize this is the kind of thing Mary wanted me to write down—when I feel anxious. Once I’m in my room, I grab a notebook I’ve used for work stuff and go to an empty page and jot down what I felt and the thoughts that surfaced. Then I put how the anxiety had me rushing inside and double-checking locks. The paranoia reminds me that I need to take some slow, deep breaths and try to relax before I irrationalize the situation and have a full-on anxiety attack.
Once I’m done writing, I place my notebook and pen on my nightstand since I’m sure there will be more times I’ll need it. Then I sit on my bed and go to my happy place, deep breaths in, slow breaths out. After a few moments, some of the anxiety melts away, and I’m content enough to stop for the time being.
I remember I promised to give Lennon an update about therapy, so I quickly send her a text letting her know things went well. Then a text from Mason comes through.
Mason: Whatcha want for dinner?
He’s been a lifesaver in more ways than one, and I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay him for everything he’s done for me.
Sophie: I don’t care. What do you want?
Mason: I asked you first!
I wonder if this is what real couples do, go back and forth about what’s for dinner. I realize I’m smiling, and it feels good, but Mason seems to do that to me. Always has.
Sophie: Pasta?
Mason: No, I’m not in the mood for that.
Sophie: Pizza then.
Mason: That’s too greasy.
I groan and roll my eyes at his pickiness.
Sophie: So tell me what you don’t want, and then I’ll decide!
Mason: Just choose something else.
I know one food he’ll always agree to eat. With a lifted eyebrow and a smirk on my lips, I send him a text.
Sophie: Tacos?
Mason: Yeah, that sounds good!
I head to the living room and sit on the couch with a book but end up falling asleep. The sound of Mason walking through the door wakes me. He has bags of food in his hands and a smile on his face. I can’t stop staring at him in his dark blue button-up shirt and black slacks. He doesn’t always dress up for work, but when he does, it’s hard to keep my eyes off him.
“I hope you’re hungry. It was buy one, get one free tonight, so I loaded us up,” he says as he sits down next to me, placing the bags of food on the coffee table. His hand brushes against my leg and goose bumps trail across my skin. My heart says yes, but my head says no. Every day is a battle because I don’t want to rush and ruin our relationship before it even has a chance to start.
“I’m starving.” I grin, and he unloads street tacos along with chips and salsa. The faint smell of his cologne grabs my attention as he heads to the kitchen. He returns with two plates, and we make small talk about our days while we eat. If I don’t think about what we’ve been through or our pasts, it’s easy to fall right back into where we were before the Dalton shit happened.
“Mmm, tacos were a good choice.” Mason smiles and leans into me.
I can’t help but notice the way his eyes shine when he looks at me. The electricity that streams between us is undeniable, even after everything.
“I thought so.” I smirk, knowing he can’t deny tacos, but who really can? “How was work?”
“Good actually. I think people are starting to realize I’m not just there because of who my dad is, which should’ve happened a long fucking time ago, but you know how it goes. People know I’m a Holt and see the similarities between my father and me, and they instantly jump to conclusions. I should find out about the promotion next week. If it’s really happening or not.”