Page 106 of Hypnotized By Love

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I didn’t change into something cute. I didn’t even bother to wash my face. I told Bridget that I’d text her soon and walked her out to her car. Then I got into my car and drove to Mason’s house before I could talk myself out of it.

When I got there, I didn’t want to knock on the door. I was worried he’d shut it in my face. I had accused him of things that weren’t true after I’d promised him that I wouldn’t do it again.

Another mistake.

What if he didn’t want to forgive me? I probably didn’t deserve it at this point.

Maybe it was my turn to do something romantic and impulsive.

I went around to the side of his house and found the ladder he’d messed around with that night after the alligator restaurant. It felt like such a long time ago. It probably wasn’t safe to use, but I was a woman on a mission.

I put the ladder up next to Mason’s second-story bedroom window and hoped that it was unlocked. I didn’t look down, and thankfully the ladder didn’t shake as I climbed. I pulled the window screen out and then pressed against the windowpane, lifting at the same time.

Triumph surged through me. It was unlocked! When I had it up completely, I swung one leg over and leaned into the window. Mason was sitting on his bed, reading a book, looking at me like I was an alien with two heads.

“Hi,” I said, and then fell to the floor when I lost my footing. He started to move, but I held up my hands. “I’m okay! Stay there.”

It would be better for me if he wasn’t close. I was going to forget everything I had been practicing on the way over, and I wanted to get this right.

“Did you notice how I didn’t throw a bowling trophy at your head?” he asked, and his tone was light, but I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or if he thought me climbing in his window was funny.

“Yes. Thank you. I need to talk to you.”

He set his book down, giving me his full attention. Now that I had gotten in front of him and he was looking at me and not yelling at me to leave, my adrenaline finally caught up with my actions and flooded through me, leaving me jittery and unable to catch my breath.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but could you just listen?” I asked him. “Not say anything until I’m done? Because there are a lot of things I have to say.”

He cocked his head to the side, as if to indicate that he was listening.

My heartbeat was jackhammering inside me. “Okay. Good. Thank you.” Then I wasn’t sure where to start or what I should say. “I just saw Bridget. She told me about the article. And I realized that I misjudged you, and Sierra pointed out that I hadn’t let you explain, and they were both right. I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion without letting you explain yourself. It was a huge mistake, especially after I’d told you I wouldn’t do that again. And I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about why I did. Why it was so easy for me to believe the worst about you instead of giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

I took in a big breath and wondered if he would defend himself or try to press his case, but as I’d asked, he stayed quiet.

“Then I realized that there was something you said to me that night that was right. That I was scared. I was. I am scared,” I corrected. “I’m scared of how much power you have over me. I’m scared of how much I care about you and how important you are to me. Most of all, I’m scared of how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you, even before I really understood what it meant to be in love with someone.”

He made a slight sound, and his expression shifted, but still he stayed silent.

“I do. Love you. And I’m sorry that I rushed to a judgment. I think there was still a part of me trying to keep me safe. But I don’t want that. I want to say yes, to take a risk and be vulnerable and tell you the truth. I’m sorry that I accused you of something you didn’t even do. I know how that feels and it kills me that I did it to you. I don’t know if there’s a way for me to fix this, but I needed you to know how sorry I am. I wish I could promise you I won’t do it again. I’ll try not to, but—”

“Can I speak yet?” he asked.

I was a bungled-up mixture of fear and relief, and I nodded. He got up and took me by the hand, leading me back over to his bed.

We sat down facing each other, and in that moment, my fear was starting to win.

“I will admit that I was a little bit frustrated and upset with you before I got back to Playa Placida,” he said. “Because you didn’t want to talk to me and because I’d been dumb enough to listen to Sierra and keep my distance from you, which I shouldn’t have done. When that editor offered me the assignment, I took it because I knew it was your job, and I started writing the article without having any facts. It was just all of my own preconceived notions, fears, frustrations, and hurts spilling onto the page.”

Oh. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Then, the moment I saw you again, all of that went away. I knew I wasn’t going to finish the article I had started writing. When I told the editor I was willing to do one with a more positive spin, he killed it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t tell you. That night at Flavio’s? I was still trying to get the editor to agree to my changes, but he refused. Which is why I never mentioned the article again after that night.”

I immediately started to think back, trying to remember when he’d stopped talking about writing the article. I’d been so caught up in him that I hadn’t even noticed. “I’m just happy that you’re talking to me. I thought you might be too angry with me to even speak to me.”