Page 40 of Damsel in Defense
He left just before dawn.I barely registered the sound of his alarm over the haze of exhaustion.But I remember the shift of the mattress as he stood, the soft press of lips on mine, and the way his fingers lingered on my jaw like he didn’t want to leave.He didn’t say a word, just kissed me.
And somehow, that’s all I needed.
Now, curled up in his space with the smell of him wrapped around me, lyrics pour out of me faster than I can arrange them.Raw.Honest.Unfiltered.I haven’t written like this in a long, long time.
The lines aren’t about pain, the grief that had been suffocating me for months now.They’re about hope, about feeling safe again.
And under all the flowery words and heartfelt bridges…it’s all about him.
There’s nothing fake anymore about Mason’s and my relationship.Silently, that contract was mentally torn up last night, and in its place, we forged a new bond.
He is it for me.I just know it.
My phone buzzes across the coffee table, pulling me out of my writing trance.I blink at it, praying that it will stop ringing and I can go back to my work.I’m not that lucky though.When I see Cece’s name flash across the screen, I know she’s not going to give up so easily.
She’s trying to reach me and won’t stop calling until she does.I hesitate for only a second before answering.
“Morning,” I say, voice still hoarse from sleep and…well, life.
“Well,goodmorning to you,” Cece says, and I can practically hear the smirk in her voice.“You made headlines again today.”
I groan.“What?How?”My brain races with what they could have gotten a picture of now.Mason and I have been apart for the last week.
“Want me to read you the headline or just send the link and let you scream into a pillow in peace?”
I sigh, dragging Mason’s throw blanket tighter around me.“Just tell me.”
“Alright.This one’s fromStar Watch Weekly, so brace yourself: ‘Things are Heating Up: Country Pop Princess Clings to Hockey Heartthrob as Apartment Burns Down.’”
I rub my temples.“Are you shitting me?The paparazzi was here last night?”
“Oh, baby, I never kid when tabloids are involved.And at least they weren’t calling you a drunk again.Now, you’re just a fire starter.”
“That’s such a crass headline.Nothing burnt down, just…singed.”I pause.“What’s the photo?”
There’s a beat of silence as Cece rustles some paper.“It’s you and Mason.He’s holding you like the world just ended and you’re all he’s got left.Cops are behind you, mid-conversation, but the angle makes it look veryepic movie romance.You look…cozy.”
“Great.”
“You look in love.”
That stills me.
I swallow.“We were just… I was shaken.”
“So shaken that he had to leave training camp to be with you,” she says matter-of-factly.“You don’t have to play it down with me, Tori.We’ve been friends a long time.I know when you’re into someone and when you’re just smiling for the camera.”
I don’t answer right away.
How do I explain that I don’t know where the line is anymore?That the rules we set in place are unravelling thread by thread.That Mason makes me feel things I haven’t felt in years—maybe ever.
“I think…” I start, then stop, my thumb tracing the corner of my notebook.“I think lines are being crossed.And rules are definitely being broken.But I also think…I’ve never felt this way before.”
Cece doesn’t respond for a second, and when she does, her voice is softer.
“Then just be careful, okay?”
“I am.”
