Page 46 of Gap Control

"I've made a lot of dumb choices. That one? That was the dumbest."

He looked at me again, but the edge in his eyes had softened this time. "You're not the only one who kissed back."

A beat of silence.

I tapped my toe on the rubber mat beneath me. "I don't regret it."

Mason flinched—not a lot. Only enough to tell me that honesty, even the kind he wanted, still had consequences.

He stood slowly. It wasn't a dramatic gesture. It merely communicated it was time to go.

I didn't stop him.

He walked toward the door and then paused with his hand on the handle.

Mason's voice was low. "For what it's worth, I didn't mean to run."

I wanted to tell him I understood, and he didn't have to explain, but all I could do was nod.

The door clicked shut behind him with a quiet finality that sounded too loud.

I stared at it for a second. Like maybe it would open again. Like perhaps he'd come back and say—

What? Something brave? Something real?

I didn't even know what I wanted to hear.

I let out a long breath through my nose. My palms were still damp, like my body hadn't gotten the message that the moment was over.

I overlooked the sketchbook at first.

It sat on the bench where Mason had left it. Closed now. The elastic band stretched tight across the cover, holding everything inside like it was afraid something might escape.

I stared at it. It wasn't big or flashy. It had a soft cover that was a little worn at the corners, like he'd shoved it into too many duffel bags. A pencil was tucked into the spiral, its tip dulled to a comfortable edge.

I picked it up. It was still warm from his touch, enough to feel the echo of his presence.

I turned it in my hands.

With one flick of the fingers, I could've opened it. I could have seen what he kept to himself, but I chose not to.

I desperately wanted to know what was in there, but I wanted him to show me. I wanted Mason to choose me. My curiosity wasn't enough.

I wanted to see his secrets, but I wanted his trust even more.

So, I didn't open it. I set it gently back on the bench where he'd left it.

Not because I didn't care. Because I did. Too much, probably.

Chapter ten

Mason

Ialways told myself I liked living alone.

The place stayed clean. I could find everything when I needed it. No surprise dishes in the sink. No unexpected noise.

But tonight, it was too static. Like it was hoping for something to happen, but I couldn't promise anything.

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