Sweet Obsession(95)

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.