Page 107 of Hypnotized By Love

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

“Because I did it again. I blamed you for something you didn’t do. I told you I’d try to trust you, and then at the first opportunity I screwed it up.”

He seemed to consider this. “Again, to be fair, this time you accused me of something I did do and just hadn’t bothered deleting, like I should have. But no, I wasn’t going to submit it. I would never hurt you like that.”

Then Mason reached over and took both of my hands in his, and I was so relieved and thrilled to be touching him again that I didn’t question it.

He said, “When I said that I love you, I meant it. I will love you no matter what, even when you get mad at me. I wasn’t angry with you over this. And I’d never stop speaking to you. I’ve already lived through that and it was terrible. I knew you just needed time to cool off and that you needed to figure out that you could trust me and how you felt about me. About us. I backed off.”

“Was that why you didn’t even text me?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Because I was giving you space. But you should know that I wasn’t going to wait six years this time. I planned on giving you a week, and then I was going to sneak in your bedroom window so that we could talk, because I’m not willing to lose you again. You are stuck with me, Sinclair. I will always be here for you. Patient when I have to be but willing to press the issue if I need to.”

That made me start crying again. “I don’t deserve you,” I said in between sniffles.

“When you did that hypnosis session and I asked what you thought I needed to change, it surprised me that you saw me as a negative person. It made me wonder if I’d been closing myself off to things since I’d lost you, and I didn’t like it. That session we had ... It made me feel like you gave me permission to be the person I always wanted to be. Like you unlocked a better version of myself. You help me to be the man I want to be, by keeping me on my toes and challenging me. No one understands me the way that you do, and no one else loves the way you love. I adore your big emotions.”

“I’m too much,” I insisted.

Then he reached up to cup the right side of my face and looked at me with so much tenderness, kindness, and love that it made me start crying all over again. “Sinclair, you’re never too much for someone who can’t get enough of you.”

I cried harder, and he added, “That someone is me. I can’t get enough of you.”

He did it to make me laugh, and it worked. I laughed and cried at the same time, my poor emotions all over the place.

When I could breathe normally again, I said, “I should have told you that I was in love with you a long time ago.”

“Maybe Sierra is onto something about stuff happening when it’s supposed to. We can’t live with regrets. We have to be here in the present and do the best we can going forward. I’m glad you’re telling me now. But I’ve always known.”

“What?” I asked in surprise.

He looked at me like I was silly. “I knew that you loved me from the way you kissed me, the way you touched me, the look in your eyes whenever you’d see me. I didn’t need the words, Sinclair. But I’m glad I have them.”

Then he leaned in toward me until our foreheads were touching. We breathed in and out together, and it calmed my soul in a way that I didn’t know was possible. “Me too.”

“I’m on your side,” he said. “I always will be. Even if I’m the one you’re mad at, come and talk to me. I want to hear everything you’re thinking and feeling.”

“I will,” I promised him. “Because Mason? I trust you.”

That made him pull back, searching my face like he was looking for something. “You do?”

Why did it seem like my trust was more important to him than my love? “I do. I will.”

His mischievous grin that turned my insides liquid was back, and he said, “You know, you offered once to make it up to me when you accused me of something I didn’t do.”

Seeing where he was going with this, I said thoughtfully, “You’re right. I did make that offer.”

Then I started kissing him, and he seemed more than happy to accept that as payment.

“So you love me?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses along my cheeks.

“Yes. I love you,” I responded as I ran my fingers along his broad shoulders.

“I bet you’ll love me doing this,” he said as he started kissing his way down to my throat.

It was then that I realized what he was doing—recreating our time in the study, only we were speaking of love instead of hate. “Yes, Ilovethat.”

“You say that with so much conviction,” he said, sounding delighted.

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