Chapter 29
Em
“ N o, Mom. I’m fine,” I groan into the phone for the millionth time. “Really.”
My mother’s call woke me shortly after Ash left for work. She’s heard about the recent string of murders on the news and wanted to make sure that I’m not being reckless with my safety walking at night.
I couldn’t confirm the ‘not being reckless’ part, but I did assure her that I was safe, and luckily she didn’t press for details. I didn’t want to mention that instead of one guy watching out for me, I have two .
I catch a rustle through the speaker as she adjusts the phone by her ear while shuffling around the kitchen. A pan sizzles over fire. She’s cooking breakfast.
“I ran into Nate the other day at the farmers market,” Mom chitchats on in a merry tone. “He was with his new girlfriend.”
I hug Ash’s comforter closer to my naked body, feeling suddenly exposed. “Good for him,” I reply. “I’m glad he’s moved on.”
I harbor no ill will toward Nate. It took me a long time to realize we weren’t a good match, and calling our engagement off was as much for his benefit as mine. Still, I feel a twinge in my stomach.
“Her name is Sarah. Lovely young woman. She owns a pastry shop in town.”
My mother’s words come out offhandedly, but something strikes a chord. I wonder if she considers me a failure. I’m broke, I live in a crappy apartment, and I’m stuck in a minimum wage job with no prospects of getting out any time soon.
“I invited them over for dinner this weekend.”
The fingers of my free hand curl toward my palm involuntarily, bunching the soft fabric in my lap as I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth.
I force my voice soft. “How nice.”
I think I’m gonna be sick.
“Soooo,” Mom drawls inquisitively, “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
I knew the question was burning on her mind, but I won’t disclose my current situation with her. I know she will disapprove and think I’m a whore for my choices.
Was I seeing someone? Yes. But…
“I’m not dating anyone,” I reply on reflex.
“Oh well. I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon. You’ve only been there a short while,” she reasons. “Are you coming home for your birthday? We would all love to see you.”
My shoulders sag with a long sigh. I shake my head. “I don’t know. ”
My birthday is still a few weeks away, and I haven’t yet decided whether I want to take a few days off to make the long drive.
Especially now that my parents have replaced me.
I sit up straight. “Listen, Mom, I gotta go,” I tell her to end the call.
“Oh, okay, honey.” Her hair whispers into the phone with the abrupt shift in her posture. “Call soon, alright?”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up and drop my phone into my lap. It shouldn’t have surprised me. My parents have always loved Nate and treated him like a son. Even without me by his side, they still consider him family.
I was the broken one.
They resented me for calling things off. There had to be something wrong with me. In their eyes, he was perfect—handsome, polite, successful. Why couldn’t I make it work?
Maybe there really is something wrong with me, I reflect, but I’ll be damned if there isn’t someone out there who can match my freak.
I swing the comforter off my legs and slip out of bed to get dressed even though I still have hours to spare. Since my mother’s call woke me early, I figure I can take the opportunity to do some sleuthing.
I still haven’t seen Mason’s room.
Gripping the handle, I pause briefly in anticipation of it being locked, but it isn’t, and I’m somehow relieved that he doesn’t feel the need to hide things from me. He knew I’d be alone here while they’re at work .
I swing the door inward and meet the darkness beyond like it’s an extension of him. It’s one thing I expected of Mason.
But the first thing I notice after the thick blackout curtains and black sheets is that it’s very clean. Even tidier than Ash’s room.
I give air to a little snort. A neat freak is not what I took him for.
I don’t switch on the light as I enter. I have a feeling he doesn’t either, and I want to see it the way he does.
Mason wasn’t lying when he said his room matches Ash’s in size.
My eyes sweep the space. He has several shelves with books, ranging from the mechanics of cars and motorcycles to various styles of art, but there are also volumes of classic literature.
A soft grin teases my lips, and my finger tips the spine of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein affectionately before I let it fall back into place.
Everything is sorted by type and alphabetized. Very organized indeed.
I turn toward the open door of his closet. The walk-in is also spacious despite it not being the master suite. Various pairs of black boots and dark cargo pants as well as jeans fill the space.
I flip through the hangers of shirts. From what I can see, his style is the same as Ash’s, though Mason’s attire is distinctly darker. His brother wears colors other than black.
As I exit the closet and give the room another browse, it strikes me that there are no drugs of any kind that I can see. Not even a bong. No alcohol either .
My eyes land on the yellow and red bottle of cologne on the dresser to my right. I pick it up, brushing my thumb over the Creed logo on the front.
I recall the first time the fragrance licked through my airways—how it invaded my senses and overrode my inhibitions. The man owned me before I even knew who he was.
I pull the cap off. As I lift the bottle to my nose, heat rushes my body. The distinct scent of Mason pulls me into an embrace, and I instantly feel myself melting.
My body begins to throb fiercely with the memory of him filling me everywhere. The empty space between thighs aches for his touch, and while I’m still clutching his cologne, my free hand answers the call.
Leaning back against his dresser, I stroke myself over my jeans. I consider taking care of my need right here in his bed. He would never know.
My fingers hover over the button. My eyes catch sight of the plastic LED mask on his nightstand, and an idea forms in my head.
But I have to stop off at home for a minute.