Whispers in the Night

LAUREN

In the pitch black, the sound of a door closing jolted me awake.

I tried to settle back into sleep, but it was a lost cause. I was wide awake now.

I slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the hallway, following the sound of footsteps echoing from the bottom of the stairs.

I navigated through the dark, down the stairs, and along another corridor.

I passed a few closed doors before I came across a pair of glass doors, wide open. A gentle breeze wafted in, brushing my face like a soft kiss.

Peeking out, I spotted Mason near the railing. His back was to me, hands tucked into his sweatpants. I hadn’t expected to find him here.

And I never thought he had sleepless nights.

I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to disturb him. I let him have a few moments alone with his thoughts.

Before I could figure out what to say or how to approach him, he turned around. His eyes were cold, almost deadly, as they met mine.

“It’s only me,” I said, raising my hands in a peaceful gesture, a small smile on my face.

His eyes softened before he turned back around. It was a silent invitation. I accepted it, walking up to stand next to him. We stood there, enjoying the quiet night, under the watchful gaze of the moon and stars.

“Want to know something?” I leaned into him, whispering even though there was no need to. “We’re practically close now.”

I nudged him gently, a grin playing on my lips as his eyes met mine.

“It’s night and we’re standing outside, watching the stars together. That’s a big step in our relationship. I’d say we’ve jumped from three to eight.”

I waited for his response, but he took his sweet time.

Finally, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “We’re not watching the stars. I would never be that cheesy.”

His voice held no disgust, and it made me grin wider.

“Oh? So, what are we doing?”

He looked straight ahead.

“We’re enjoying each other’s company. Forgive me,” he said, his brows furrowing as he looked at me again. “Were, because you’re tolerable when you don’t have your mouth open.”

I looked away for a moment. “You like me a lot, don’t you?”

I kept my gaze fixed ahead, but I could feel his eyes on me.

“Those words did not leave my lips.”

I turned to him and poked his arm. “You like me.” I already knew that, but I wanted him to admit it. If he didn’t like me, I wouldn’t be standing here.

He glared at me. “All right, stop it.”

I shook my head. “Not until you admit that you like me, Mr. Campbell. You like having me around. You like it when I annoy you,” I teased, twirling a strand of my hair.

“Cut it out, Lauren.”

“Mason Campbell, the insufferable man, likes little ole me,” I said, grinning mischievously.

“Shut up.”

“Admit it.”

“No.”

“Fine.” I huffed, grabbing the railing and hoisting myself up onto it.

He wasn’t really paying attention to me. If he had been, he would have stopped me. If he knew I was climbing the railing.

I wasn’t foolish enough to stand on top of it. I knew I’d fall. But I had climbed onto the third rail before he noticed.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

I ignored him and cupped my hands around my mouth, shouting into the quiet night, “MASON CAMPBELL LIKES ME!”

“Lauren!”

“MASON CAMPBELL LIKES LAUREN HART! MASON CAMPBELL—”

“Okay!” he exclaimed, his eyes glued to my legs as if he was afraid I’d slip. His hands were subtly raised, ready to catch me if I did.

“Get down and I’ll tell you what you want to hear.” He sounded both annoyed and concerned.

I climbed down, raising my eyebrows expectantly.

“I like you.” He gave me a half-smile, a warmth in his eyes that was just for me. But then he glared. “Sometimes, but definitely not right now. You’re insufferable.”

I couldn’t help the flush of warmth that spread through me. I turned and leaned against the railing, giving myself a better view of him. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“You have an annoying rat roaming around the house, opening and closing doors.”

His eyes met mine, and I caught my breath at his words. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I stared at him, wide-eyed, until he looked away.

He admitted to being in my room. I thought he would deny it.

But what was he doing there?

“Well, you did and I’m out here watching stars with you.” I quickly corrected myself, “Oh, my bad, we’re enjoying each other’s company.”

There was a brief silence before I asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, normally, you just ask.”

“I’ve always wondered if I chose a different path, where would I be right now? Have you ever thought about that? Where would you be if you weren’t billionaire Mason Campbell?”

“I would still be a billionaire,” he answered sincerely, making me laugh.

“Okay, billionaire, imagine a world where you’re not that.” I watched his bemused expression with amusement. “What path would you have chosen?”

“I would have been a tattoo artist,” he said.

His voice held a playful note that left me speechless, then laughing.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, still chuckling. “I just can’t picture you as a tattoo artist. Would you have liked that?”

He shrugged. “I guess I’d enjoy sticking a needle in someone.”

I laughed again. “You’re a sadist.”

“And you?” he asked, his interest in my answer apparent. It was the first time he’d really focused on me.

“Well, I’m not exactly rolling in money, but I’d love to be in a girl band. I can’t sing, but I could play drums or guitar. The idea of touring from city to city, country to country... it’s exciting.”

Mason looked at me, his expression unreadable. “If all you want is to travel the world, I could lend you my private plane. You could go anywhere.”

My heart pounded as I looked at him, captivated.

This was the most generous offer he’d ever made, and something in his voice made my heart race.

Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I said, “No one’s ever offered to lend me their private plane before.”

I grinned.

“That’s because you don’t know any other rich people besides me.”

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

A gentle touch on my shoulder snapped me out of my reverie. I looked at Coop’s worried face and realized I’d been daydreaming in the middle of the street.

I mentally scolded myself for getting so lost in a memory that I’d tuned out reality.

Memories of Mason kept flooding my mind, no matter how hard I tried to push them away.

Just remembering his touch, his voice, his smile... it was enough to make my heart race and my skin tingle.

Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

Why did certain memories keep replaying in my mind like a secret code only I could decipher?

I tried not to dwell on the good times we’d had, the moments when I’d felt safe and comfortable with him. But no matter how hard I tried, the memories wouldn’t fade.

If anything, they grew stronger, more persistent, until I felt like I was going crazy with unanswered questions.

I spent the night tossing and turning in bed, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I left my room and crept into Beth’s, finding her sound asleep.

I climbed into her bed and turned to face the wall, trying to will myself to sleep.

Beth’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I held onto her hand, which was wrapped securely around me.

“It’s not the end of the world,” she murmured.

I wanted to ask her what she meant, but instead I just held onto her arm and exhaled slowly.

As I finally drifted off to sleep, I didn’t quite hear Beth’s next words, spoken so softly and confidently that they would have left me stunned if I’d been awake.

“You love him.”