Page 90 of Making It Burn
The terrace was empty and blessedly cold.I leaned against the stone railing and stared out at Franklin Street below, my hands shaking.
I’d made a fool of myself.Not just tonight, but for weeks now.
The terrace door opened behind me.
“Beau.”
I didn’t turn around.“I need a minute, Mason.”
“I know.But I—” He moved to stand beside me, close enough that I could feel his warmth but not touching.“Thank you.For deflecting in there.”
“Yeah, well.Couldn’t let you have a panic attack in front of the entire firm.”
“I wasn’t having a panic attack.”
I finally looked at him.“Mason.Your face went white.You looked like you were about to throw up.”
He flinched.“Paul knew what he was doing.Setting that up.”
“Of course he did.”I turned back to the city lights.“The question is why.”
“Does it matter?”
“Doesn’t it?”I gripped the railing harder.“Someone at our firm is clearly suspicious enough about us to pull that little stunt.And your reaction pretty much confirmed whatever he was thinking.”
“What was I supposed to do?”Mason glanced up at the sky.“Kiss you in front of everyone?”
The words hit like a physical blow.“Would that be so terrible?”
“Beau—”
“No, I’m serious.Would it be the end of the world if people knew about us?”
Mason looked at me finally, his jaw tightening.“You know it’s not that simple.”
“Actually, it is that simple.But you’re not ready to admit it.”I picked up my drink from where I’d set it on the railing and took a long sip.“You’ve been weird lately, Mason.Distant.In your head.And I’ve been trying to give you space, trying not to push, but wondering if maybe you’re pulling away because you’ve realized this—” I gestured between us, “—is too hard.Too complicated.”
“That’s not—” Mason ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body.“I haven’t been pulling away.”
“Really?Because it sure feels like you have.”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?”
“About...”Mason trailed off, his expression conflicted.“About a lot of things.My father.Caroline.Their wedding.Where my life is going.”
“And apparently none of those things includes talking to me about it.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“How about the truth?”I set my glass down harder than I meant to.“How about ‘Beau, I’m going through something and I need to work through it’ instead of just shutting me out?”
“I wasn’t shutting you out.”
“You were!”My voice rose slightly.“You’ve been in your own head all week, barely present when we’re together, and when I try to ask you about it, you just say work is stressful.That’s shutting me out, Mason.”
He was quiet for a long moment.“You’re right.I’m sorry.”
