Chapter 27 #2
Before Toronto, things had been good. Better than good. After years of casual hookups and surface-level relationships, I’d finally found someone who made me want something more.
I shut off the water and grabbed my towel, drying off fast as I headed back to my locker. I dressed in record time.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up outside Lila’s place. Taking the stairs two at a time, I ran up to her floor. I knocked, hard enough to sting my knuckles.
“Lila? It’s me. Open up.”
No answer. Then shuffling footsteps.
The door swung open and there she was, but not the polished, put-together Lila I was used to. She wore baggy flannel pajama pants and an oversized University of Miami sweatshirt. Her hair was piled into a messy bun, and her eyes were wide and red-rimmed.
“Mason? What are you doing here?” Her voice came out scratchy, exhausted.
“You weren’t answering my texts.” I kept it simple. “Can I come in?”
She hesitated, glanced behind her like she was checking the state of the apartment, then stepped back reluctantly.
I moved past her and stopped. Worry edged out everything else. I pulled her into my arms.
She tensed for a second before sagging against me, like the fight went out of her.
My frustration fell away, replaced by something more urgent. “Lila. What’s going on?”
She pulled back, putting space between us. “Nothing. I’ve been busy with work.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, keeping my voice low. “About Vanessa. About the tabloids. About your name getting dragged into it. It isn’t fair to you or your company.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, eyes sliding away from mine. “I just needed some space.”
“Space from what?” I asked. “From me? From us?” I gestured around her apartment. It was messy in a way that didn’t fit her at all. “This doesn’t look like fine, Lila. This looks like hiding.”
She finally looked at me. Defiance flashed in her eyes, bright and brittle. “Maybe I like hiding. Maybe not everyone wants their personal life splashed across the internet for strangers to dissect.”
There. Finally. The edge of the truth.
“So this is about the Vanessa bullshit.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
She gave a short laugh, empty of humor. “‘Vanessa bullshit.’ Is that what we’re calling it? Your ex-girlfriend dragging me and my workplace into some tabloid sex scandal?”
“She’s not my ex-girlfriend,” I corrected automatically. “Vanessa and I were never—”
“Save it.” Lila turned away, shoulders tight. “I don’t need the details of your relationship with the lingerie model.”
“Makeup artist.”
She turned back, confusion pinching her brow. “What?”
“Vanessa is a makeup artist, not a model. I met her on the Apex Gear shoot.” I dragged a hand through my hair, irritation snapping at my nerves.
“Not that it matters. The point is, she and I were never serious. It was casual, it ended months ago, and now she’s stirring up drama because she’s pissed I moved on. ”
Lila wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly looking smaller. “Well, congratulations. It worked. Drama stirred.”
“This is on me.” I forced my hands to unclench at my sides as I searched for the right words. “She shouldn’t have pulled you into this. Or your workplace. I’ll put out a statement and take the hit. My PR team can handle it. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you out of it, to make this right.”
She immediately shook her head. “No statements. No press releases. Nothing that links me to this publicly.”
“Okay.” I swallowed, trying a different approach. “The team has a PR firm on retainer. They’re good at pinning stories like this, making them disappear. I could get them to—”
“No.” Her voice sharpened. “I don’t want anyone ‘spinning’ anything about me. I don’t want to be part of the story at all.”
I frowned, searching for the logic under the panic. “Lila, we might not have a choice. Your name is already out there. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting!” Her voice jumped, then she yanked it back down, breath tight. “I just need this to go away. I need to not be associated with… with all of this.”
“All of what?” I asked, a new hurt blooming in my chest. “With the scandal, or with me?”
Silence. Deafening, crushing silence. Lila just stood there, her shoulders trembling. She turned away from me. “You don’t understand.”
“Help me understand,” I urged. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re using this as an excuse to shut me out. I don’t get it, Lila. We were good. Really good. And now you won’t talk to me, won’t see me, won’t even tell me what’s actually going on.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Her voice went flat, too controlled. “I need some time and space to let this blow over. That’s all.”
I studied her profile, the hard line of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders like she was bracing for impact. “You’re not just upset about this. There’s something else. Something you’re not saying.”
Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide, panic flickering so fast she probably thought I missed it. “No, there isn’t.”
“Lila.” I moved in, gentler this time, and turned her to face me. “I’m right here. Whatever it is, you can tell me. Let me help.”
For a brief moment, something raw flashed across her face. A glimpse of whatever she was holding back. Then her expression snapped shut again, like she’d slammed a deadbolt in my face.
Frustration surged. “Why won’t you talk to me? What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” she shot back. “I’m being realistic. This is exactly why I didn’t want to get involved with someone like you in the first place.”
The words landed like a blindside hit, sharp enough to knock the breath out of me.
“Someone like me,” I repeated.
She flinched and looked away, guilt flickering across her features. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it?” I stared at her, hurt and confusion warring in my chest. “Because it sounds like you’re saying this, us, was a mistake from the beginning.”
“Please, Mason.” She stepped back, creating a chasm between us. “Just go. I can’t do this right now.”
“Fine.” The word tasted like rust. “Take all the time you need. But I need to know one thing, and I need you to be honest with me.”
She lifted her gaze, wary. “What?”
I held her eyes. Put everything I had on the table. “I get that you don’t want to be linked to me in public. But what about in private? Is there still something between us worth fighting for?”
I waited. Heart pounding. Praying she’d let me in.
Seconds dragged. She stayed still, giving me nothing.
The pause gutted me. Worse than any hit I’d taken on the ice. Worse than any loss. Because I was losing her, and I didn’t even know why.
“Lila, please.” My voice cracked on her name. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out.”
The quiet stretched until it felt like a living thing between us. I curled my fingers into fists, fighting the urge to punch a wall, to shout, to do something that would make her react.
It wouldn’t help. It would only push her further away.
“Fuck.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
I backed up a step, forcing air into my lungs. “Right. Message received.”
Her eyes finally met mine. There was something there, but it was gone before I could pin it down. Regret. Fear. Both. Neither. She wasn’t giving me any hints.
I headed for the door, my chest so tight it hurt. I paused on the threshold. “When you figure out what you actually want, you know where to find me. But I’m not going to keep chasing someone who won’t even tell me why she’s running.”
My hand closed around the knob. I looked back one last time, like an idiot, hoping she’d stop me. Hoping she’d run into my arms and tell me everything would be okay.
She didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. The latch clicked, soft and final. I leaned back against the wall, throat closing like my body was trying to hold the damage in. I stared at the door until my brain stopped expecting it to open.
What the hell just happened?
I’d come here to fix it. To make it right.
Instead, I left with nothing but the sick feeling that she was already gone.