“SO WHAT IF HE DOES?!” I burst out. My blood was pumping. “SO WHAT?” I gasped for oxygen and added, “HE DOESN’T ANYWAY!” Pointing to the hospital, my voice broke, “Tate lied. Marissa lied. It’s all a lie.”

Mason lifted his hand, they were in fists, but they went to the sides of his face. He pressed them there and bent forward. As he stayed like that, for a brief moment, his shoulders heaved up and down. He lifted his head and a flash of pain splayed over his face. He rasped out, “It’s not a lie.”

My heart stopped.

He whispered, “It’s not a lie. It was a guess, and Tate guessed right.”

Logan loved me? I fell back a step. No…

“Oh.” Mason shook his head in a savage motion. “It’s not what you’re thinking, but he could love you. It’s the same damn thing as what you just said. He could’ve been with you. You could’ve been with him. Do you know the position that puts me in? It’s a cancer, building in me, wondering if I might lose you one day.”

I rested a hand on his head and with that one small gesture, the fight left him. His shoulders drooped. He expelled a sudden rush of air, and his forehead fell to my shoulder. I continued to cradle the back of his head. And, closing my eyes, I felt his hands rest on my waist. He pulled me close, but not too close. There was still space between us, and I had to blink back tears at the distance.

We weren’t arguing about the what-if of Logan. He wasn’t the issue. It was us. We were the problem.

His head was bent next to mine, and I rested mine against his. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should’ve. I’m sorry that I’ve been so scared for the last year.” I’d been weak. I’d been hurting. He had sheltered me too much. My hand tightened on his head, and without realizing it, he had pulled our bodies closer. We were clinging to each other. His arms were wrapped around me, holding on as if he needed me to breathe. I wound mine around him too. God. I loved him so much. I whispered again, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I was apologizing for more than keeping that damn secret. I was apologizing for letting him carry me so many times. I was apologizing for not doing the same with him. And with this one incident, I should’ve been the one to protect him, to shelter him. I was scared he would leave me, but he’d been scared that I was going to leave him. That alone, a shudder went through me, ripped me to pieces.

I loved this man so much. It filled me from my head to the tips of my toes, and it was powerful. So unbelievably powerful that knowing the damage done to us, I was ready to destroy Tate for planting that seed. I wanted to curse myself, for not being as strong as he needed me to be. Mason was the strongest person I would ever meet. He needed that in the woman who loved him. She needed to hold her own beside him, not behind him, not being held by him, or being dragged forward by him. Beside him. I hadn’t done that.

I would now. I vowed that this was it. I wasn’t going to lose him and anyone else who tried to take him from me, good luck. I would destroy them first.

“I love you.” It swept through me, pushing the tension and fight away. As I said those words, they were burned into me with the promise to be strong, not to take his strength, but to have my own. A tear slipped out. I lifted my head, and he tilted his back as well. Cupping both sides of his face, my eyes met his and searched inside him. I was looking into him. I was piercing his walls, making him feel me slipping inside him. We stared into each other’s gaze, and I knew he felt me there. His eyes widened a bit, and he tried to step back, but I kept hold of him and held firm. He stayed where he was, in my arms. I promised, “I will not leave you. I will not hold back anymore. I will not allow anyone to get in between us. They don’t have to deal with just you anymore. They’ll have to deal with me too.”

This was different. It was in the air. Something in our relationship was changing, something that was for the future, for a better future. I couldn’t explain it, but it was intoxicating and it was moving and it was making me feel like I could conquer anyone.

I whispered again, “I love you.”

He continued to study me, then a wall fell away. Some of the weight from his shoulders slid to mine, and he closed his eyes. Drawing me back against him, he pressed his head into my neck, and his lips brushed against my skin. I heard him murmur, “I love you too, Sam.”

I held him tight and thought, So goddamn much.

CHAPTER THIRTY

MASON

Sam and I were fine. We would be fine.

I’d like to spend more time sealing our renewed connection, especially with the possible rift of Logan being so damn close to heart. He was my brother. She was mine. The thought of a possible them was like a hot poker stabbing repeatedly into me, but the truth was that I couldn’t do anything about it. I trusted both of them, and the only other thing I could do was trust in Sam’s love for me and the integrity of our relationship. We weren’t like other couples. We didn’t mess with temptations and weak wills and petty bullshit. We were more than that, or I hoped to god we were. If we weren’t, well…we’d have to deal with that in the future.

I wanted to take Sam home. I wanted to bury myself so deep inside her that there’d never be another thought of a ‘could’ve been guy’ in her life. It was me. It was her. It was us. I wanted to remind her of that, but the timing was shit.

Park had taken a swing at me. It could’ve been as payback because I punched Nate, but I was guessing there was more to it. Matteo told me earlier Park liked people with power around him. He tried to get me. Then he found out that Nate wanted to talk to me? The rift could’ve been smoothed over. If they knew I hit Nate, because I knew Nate didn’t tell them, it meant they heard what else I’d been saying about Park.

If.

If we’d been given the chance to mend our relationship without their fraternity striking. If they hadn’t meant to hit me and hit Marissa instead. If all of that hadn’t happened and Nate had come to me, we would’ve fixed things. I hadn’t known that after I punched him, but hearing what Nate told Sebastian, that he wanted to talk to me himself, I knew it would’ve been inevitable. Nate hadn’t been too far gone, and with our friendship back on, I would’ve been in Nate’s ear. I wouldn’t have been able to keep my disdain quiet for his brother. That would’ve pulled Nate away from the fraternity. That would’ve pulled another powerful person away from Sebastian’s control.