The Soul Mate (Roommates, # 4)

Chapter 8 Mason



Mason

I could tell by the tight line of Bren’s mouth that my expression had turned into a scowl. Her hands trembled, and emotion practically poured from her eyes.

Of all the doctors in the city, how in the hell had she ended up in my exam room for a pregnancy test? Damn. It was right what they said about Karma being a bitch and all that.

I racked my brain, reliving every single second we spent together, realizing I never told her my actual profession. Not wanting to sound like an arrogant douche, I rarely led with that in a bar or club. Besides, being a doctor with my own practice made me a moving target for gold diggers and clingers, so I was absolutely positive I hadn’t told her who I was.

My fingers itched to reach out and gather her into my arms so I could wipe that heartbreaking look off her face. But I didn’t move because I was still a little pissed that she’d ghosted me after the best night of my life.

Her eyes gazed into mine, seeking something. Something I couldn’t yet give. Promises I couldn’t make. After staring for several strained seconds, she took a step backward.

“Can we please go talk in my office?” I asked, my voice slightly more controlled.

Becoming agonizingly aware that we were still standing in the lobby, I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself. An older woman stared slack-jawed at us, and a young mother rocked a newborn in a baby carrier, trying hard to ignore the spectacle in front of her.

My gaze passed over the decaf cappuccino bar that Trent had promised would soothe our patients, making them more comfortable once they got to the exam table. Suddenly, I wished my life was as simple as deciding between the salted caramel or mocha syrup. I let out a long breath, calmed my temper, and turned back to face Bren. A woman running from me caused a pit to form in my gut because it felt like the worst kind of rejection, especially when I’d done nothing to deserve it.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to get back to work.” Before the last syllable left her mouth, I knew she was lying to me. Any woman as upset as Bren looked in this moment was headed for a phone call with her bestie and a pint of Chunky Monkey. All I wanted was the gym and a drink. Only the sting of serious liquor would help sweep the memory of what just happened from my mind.

Pregnant.

With my baby.

The implications weren’t lost on me. Bren could have life growing within her womb as we stood here not talking. Even though our interactions had been brief and physical, I could sense her independence. She probably didn’t want to be saddled down with responsibility and tied to a man who just a while ago had been a perfect stranger.

Bren’s face turned white as a sheet, and she sucked in a huge breath. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

I grabbed her elbow and pulled her toward the door emblazoned with gold lettering that read Ladies as she rushed for the toilet bowl.

She heaved once, twice, but the contents of her stomach stayed put. As Bren turned her head toward me, I knelt down in the tiny stall beside her, my hands sweeping her hair into a makeshift ponytail.

When she stood, I took a step back. “You all right?”

She nodded and swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “False alarm, I guess.”

“Have you been getting sick?” I asked, suddenly more worried than I had been.

She lifted a shoulder. “Just a little nausea.”

“You sure you should be going back to work?”

Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.

As she stepped out of the stall and washed her hands, I didn’t speak the words that popped into my mind before any others. Once I got back to my office, I’d sink into my buttery leather chair and consider how much I wanted this woman and our unborn child playing a starring role in my future.

“I may just head home. The day’s almost over anyway,” Bren said, backing away from me almost as if she thought I’d corner her in the ladies room.

“And you’ll be okay to drive?”

“Yes. I don’t live far from here.”

“Okay.” I rubbed one large hand across her shoulder, and she took another uneasy step back. The physical rejection stung worse than a hornet’s bite. I really didn’t want her driving home in this condition, but I couldn’t think of a rational way to get her to stay or let me put her in an Uber.

Of their own accord, my facial muscles tugged downward, but I dropped my hands to my sides in defeat. I almost felt like grabbing a few paper towels and waving them in the air above us like a white flag. “I’ll call you later. We need to talk about this.”

“All right. My cell number is on the form I filled out.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I felt completely frustrated and incompetent. If I couldn’t protect the mother of my unborn baby, what good was I? But I picked myself up by my bootstraps and followed her to the door.

“Talk to you later, then,” she said and pushed open the door, her feet carrying her like a crazed stalker was on her tail. I watched Bren’s rigid and retreating back until her body became just a speck of nothingness off in the distance. My heart throbbed like someone had cracked my chest open without the benefit of anesthesia.

After Bren’s blood draw earlier, the lab would take twenty-four hours to get the test results back. I’d be on pins and needles until the results were in. Which meant I had a full twenty-four hours to ruminate about Bren.

Leaden feet led me back to my office where I shut the door and inhaled. Focusing on paperwork helped, so I shuffled through a pile and waited a few hours to call her so she could have time to process and calm down.

I knew I’d be useless until things were settled or at least discussed between Bren and me, so I suggested dinner. How emotional could she get in a public place? Once I got her on the line, I could tell by her hesitation she didn’t want to see me. Too damn bad. So I pushed.

“Sure,” she mumbled, giving in.

Glancing at the clock on my desk, I blew out a frustrated breath. I still had an hour before we were supposed to meet. Plenty of time to go to my apartment to shower and change. This was going to be the longest twenty-four hours of my entire life until those test results came in.

In the meantime, I needed a plan. I needed to push everything else out of my mind so I could focus on Bren and getting to know her. Make her want to know me.

I tented my hands and touched my fingers to my lips.

You can run, Bren Matthews, but you can’t hide.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.


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