Page 77 of Shamed
Mase pauses for a brief second, clearly not expecting that. “I have an extra bedroom in my apartment.”
My mouth parts. “Are you serious right now?!” I pace a few steps, heart thundering against my rib cage, guilt and low self-worth piling onto my shoulders, disguising themselves as rage. Turning back again, I glare at him. “Why do you keep doing this? Forcing your way into my life, insisting on walking me home, trying to look after me, and making my life better. Why? What does it matter to you? Why do you fucking care? Why—”
“Because my mother was fucking assaulted!” Mase pushes to his full height, and my mouth snaps shut. “She was brutally raped and left for dead. I know what it did to her, and she didn’t have anyone there for her, so it hits fucking close to home, okay? And I just . . . I just had this need to help you since you had the same thing happen, and by someone who wasmy friend.” A harsh breath releases through his nose. “Is that so fucking bad?”
Horrified.
Ashamed.
More things to add to my list.
I’m stunned silent, watching his jaw clench and unclench with that truth revealed.
My chest is cracked, heart pulverized, every ounce of false anger drained out of me, making room for the pure devastation hearing about his mother causes.
I feel my lip quiver, and my eyes fill with tears. Too many emotions fill me at once.
Some of the pieces of his personality and behavior click into place: the reason he cares so much, the reason he does self-defense classes for women, and even his aspirations of opening a place for women in the future.
I’ve been a selfish bitch thinking only about what his help has done to me, and not what it might mean to him.
I was never really angry with him. I was angry with myself for allowing him to be the speck of light in my otherwise dark world, and I wanted him gone because Ididn’twant him gone.
This information alters things.
His poor mother. Just the thought of her having gone through it as well breaks my heart.
Lowering my head, I let the first tear spill over. “I’m so sorry.”
Mase releases a puff of air, running a hand over his face. “Shit. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.”
I shake my head, more tears falling, one after the other. “It’s okay.”
“It’snot.” Moving to stand in front of me, he tips my chin up, those dark orbs swimming with concern and pity for my pathetic self. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. I’m just trying to help you, okay? I know it was a long time ago, but I still care.”
“Okay,” I whisper, all the fight having left me with a feeling of defeat in its place.
“And I meant what I said about the extra bedroom. Just stay there while they fix your roof.”
“Okay,” I answer again, feeling helpless.
Mase makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Come here.” He pulls me in for an awkward hug, like he’s not used to them.
For some reason, it makes me cry harder being held by him, feeling so secure wrapped in his warmth, his strength.
He squeezes me tighter in response, his body melding into the hug as he pets my back.
I’m such an emotional mess. Twice in as many days, he’s seen me at low points, and instead of ditching me, he’s offered me a place to stay and a hug.
I don’t remember the last time someone hugged me. I haven’t wanted to be touched by anyone.
My eyes open at that, tears gradually slowing as I blink and think that over.I haven’t wanted to be touched, yet I’m happyMase is holding me. In fact, it hasn’t bothered me any time his hands have been on me. I only flinched because he grabbed my fresh cuts.
God, I was even comfortable enough with him to fall asleep while he was still inside my home last night.
Breaths loosening, I start actually paying attention to the things directly surrounding me. Like how thick his tattooed arm looks in front of my face. How solid his chest feels under my head, and how fast his heart is beating. The feel of his strong hand rubbing up and down my back. The scent of his spicy bodywash and the clean sweat that engulfs me. And the heat radiating from his skin that’s sinking into my bones.
Suddenly, those things are all I seem to notice, and I can feel my cheeks getting warm at the sensations traveling through me.
