Page 174 of Please Open Me
I blinked up at him, and for a moment, I couldn’t form words. I didn’t know how to explain the lead weight in my chest, or why my entire body buzzed like it knew something wasn’t right but couldn’t place what.
“Are you okay?” he asked, slowly walking towards me.
And I nodded before looking back at the phone. What I was about to do was stupid, but, I supposed it was no dumber than forgiving Sebastian after he literally killed someone.
I drew a breath through my teeth before looking back up at him and asking: “How much do you love me?”
Chapter 41
Sebastian
I was either hopelessly whipped or terminally stupid—those were the only two reasons I’d be back in Hartwood after dark, searching for a damn book.
Mason’s entire library of horny high fantasy never made it to Portland. And according to her, after tomorrow’s divorce bomb, there was a good chance Sophia wouldn’t let her back into the house without bloodshed.
So, here we were.
I told her I’d replace every last paperback. Hell, I offered to buy the whole publishing company if it meant she forgot about the book. But apparently, there was aspecial editionhardback—French translation, signed by the author, complete with exclusive character art—and no, she couldn’t just buy another copy because it hadsentimental value.
Which was how I ended up standing in her basement bedroom—the one in a town I swore I’d never set foot in again.
But… this was fine.
Dale was always in bed by eight p.m. I knew this because he used to lecture me about staying up late.God favors those who rise with the sun,he’d say, as if I had any intention of ever being God’s favorite. Point was, he wasn’t awake right now, and as long as we didn’t dick around, we’d be fine.
Unfortunately, all Mason wanted to do was dick around.
She was supposed to be grabbing one book.One.But ten minutes in, she had three stacks going, ones she promised to “sort through later”, and was now cross-legged in front of the lowest shelf like this was a religious experience.
“Have you actually read all these?” I asked, hoping she’d realize none of this was important.
Mason nodded. “I was going through about a book a day when I was pregnant with Rosie. These are just the ones I’ve read since moving to America.”
I blinked. “There are, like, a hundred books here.”
“One hundred and seventy-two,” she corrected without looking up.
I rubbed my temple as she continued to run her fingers along the spines. Part of me thought this might not be about books at all—but with Mason, it was hard to tell.
“Hey, after I get my book, can we stop and grab something to eat?” she asked casually, still not looking up. “The diner up the street from the gym should be open.”
My eyes narrowed.
Was that a perfectly reasonable request? Absolutely, especially considering she was pregnant with twins. But Mason hadjusteaten on the way up. Her bump was still round with the evidence of that.
“Princess, you just ate a basket of fries and twenty chicken nuggets with honey.” That alone was impressive for someone her size, but I knew her appetite skyrocketed when she was pregnant with Rosie, so I wasn’tthatsurprised.
She gave me a look over her shoulder, one brow arched. “And?”
“I’m not judging, I just–” I stopped.
She’d saidthe diner up the street from the gym.Not the one on Main Street. Notthe one with the good coffee.
She was thinking aboutthe gym.The gym where Mattie apparently worked.
“Mason, is this about Mattie?” I asked, pulse quickening like I’d just run a mile.
She froze for a split second, and my stomach dropped. Then she reached deeper into the shelf as if she hadn’t heard me.
