Chapter 21 Shane/Mason—Messy lunches and new beginnings
Shane
After the awkward tension last night, Shane and Anna had watched some television and gone to bed.
The same bed. They had stayed on their own sides, though he had itched to reach out and touch her many times during the night.
She slept on her side, shifting from facing the wall to facing him several times throughout the night.
They were less than an arm’s length apart.
She fell asleep easily and quickly. He could sense she’d been tired.
Weeks of emotional anguish would do that.
At one point, he reached across and touched her soft hair. She turned away, mumbling in her sleep.
He hadn’t slept well. Sexual frustration and constant rumination had ruined his sleep, but not his peace. Lying next to Anna while she slept was peaceful. Comforting. Despite her being out to the world, being next to her felt companionable. He didn’t feel alone after feeling alone for so long.
Anna called down and ordered breakfast, unwilling to risk a run-in with April and Mason in the in-house restaurant, and they’d eaten in companionable silence.
Scotty: They’ve left the hotel.
Shane: Thanks mate. Give me a heads up if they return in the next half hour.
“They’re gone,” Shane told Anna.
She giggled, clapped her hands, and jumped up and down. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a fake, bloody head. Apparently, Mason was a bit of a scaredy cat and Anna was keen to explore that further. She wandered out to the balcony and reached over the railing.
Shane grabbed her by the waist.
“Too far, Tinkerbell. This revenge is not worth dying for,” he scolded.
“Oh hush, I’m fine.”
He kept a firm grip on her as she reached over and dumped the bloody head on April and Mason’s balcony. Thankfully, it landed right side up in a corner of the balcony not visible from the door. This feels natural. I don’t want to let her go, he thought.
Anna righted herself, straightening up, but he didn’t remove his hands.
This was becoming a habit. She turned, facing him, or rather, facing his chest. Even sleeping in the same bed as her last night hadn’t felt this nerve-wracking.
His hands gentled, no longer feeling the urge to grab her tightly to prevent a balcony tragedy.
Instead, his fierce grab turned into a soft caress.
He ran his open hands up and down her sides, prompting her to stare up directly into his eyes.
She was so warm. Toned, but with a soft little belly. She looked half stunned, half aroused.
Should I kiss her?
He began to move his head down, staring at her lips.
She stared back but didn’t move. He moved slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away.
She remained as still as a stone. Their lips pushed together gently.
She had a soft, full mouth, just as he’d imagined.
They kissed again; both sets of eyes were closed.
This time, he didn’t move away. He just left their lips touching, moving slightly, waiting for some kind of signal.
She slid her hands up his upper arms onto his shoulders, then finally, around his neck.
That was the signal. He pushed his lips harder into hers, motioning hers open with his.
Their tongues met, gently but firmly. She tasted like fresh coffee and strawberry jam and smelled like her usual sweet perfume.
This was amazing. She was soft, passionate, and warm.
She felt as into this as he did, flushing him with even greater pleasure.
He wasn’t sure how long it lasted. Long enough for his dick to harden and long enough for her to have pushed into him so they were chest to chest. He could feel her breasts pushing into him, her leg moving between his, sandwiching one of his strong thighs.
The chime of his phone killed the moment. She pulled away, glancing inside their room.
“Um, you have a message,” she whispered, shifting her eyes from inside the room to his chest.
“Whoever they are, their timing is fucked,” he said, his voice deeper than usual.
She stepped away, but he arrested the movement by tightening his grip on her.
“Hey, that was amazing. You are amazing. We’re not doing anything wrong,” he assured.
The last thing he wanted was for her to feel guilty or regretful. Sure, the timing was off, but they were essentially single in their hearts. Actually, he no longer felt single. Hopefully, after that kiss, she no longer felt single.
As he let go, she lowered her head and stared off into the distance like their view of the back of another building was somehow fascinating. He entered the room and checked his phone.
Scotty: Reservation at hotel restaurant for lunch at 1 pm. Want a table in the back? View of them but screens will mostly hide you.
Shane: Definitely! Thanks.
Shane called out to the balcony.
“Tinkerbell, will you join me for lunch and a show at 1 pm?”
She turned, smiling deviously.
“I’d love to, GI Joe!”
Mason
What a clusterfuck last night had been. Who had sent him the picture?
He’d Google reverse searched it, but it brought up nothing.
How dare April accuse him of cheating! He wasn’t a cheater.
His stomach clenched. He was a cheater. But he didn’t have a third woman.
That would be truly disgusting behavior.
It had to be Lilah, but the woman in the photo had a totally different build than Lilah.
And why would she seek revenge this way?
She had no way of knowing he was seeing April or that they were away together, so she couldn’t be behind the photo or the card.
A sickening feeling gripped him. Could it be Anna?
No, definitely not. If she knew, she’d be hysterical and confront him.
She didn’t have the emotional capacity to play it cool.
And it certainly couldn’t be the Hulk. He’d just kill him, not mess with him like this.
This was just too complicated. He never signed up for all this shit. He pictured his mother, chanting the quote she’d used frequently when he lied as a child:
Oh what a tangled web we weave when we first practice to deceive.
Fucking Sir Walter Scott. He certainly wasn’t wrong. He had woven a tangled web, and for what? A woman he didn’t love, didn’t even want sexually anymore. And who had he deceived? His loyal, sweet fiancée. If he thought he felt broken last night, it was nothing on how he felt now.
“Come on, booking’s at 1 pm,” he called out to April, who was no doubt plastering on her makeup for a casual lunch.
“This kind of perfection doesn’t just happen,” she trilled.
This woman’s moods were completely unpredictable. Last night, he thought she wanted to throw him off the balcony, but she’d woken this morning sweet and docile, even offering to rub the crick out of his neck that he’d earned sleeping on the sofa.
They made their way silently to the restaurant. Of course, April ordered the most expensive wine, putting on her French accent. What he had once found endearing in her now seemed artificial and pretentious. He ordered a beer and the silence between them continued.
“I’m sorry about last night. I’m just feeling so insecure right now,” April said. “I love you so much and I have no doubt we’re meant to be together. This is how the strongest couples are forged Mase, through hardship and challenge.”
“Yeah, self-inflicted challenge,” he muttered.
“Let’s have a nice day. We can go shopping,” she looked at him hopefully.
Fuck no. He barely had any money left. Last night’s dinner had cost him a bomb, and she’d tipped like crazy when they reached the hotel.
Not out of any desire to reward people for hard work though.
He was certain her motivations were to appear rich.
Like she had money to throw away. Add in the in-room treatments she prepaid at the desk at check-in, he was frightened to check his balance.
“Let’s go back to the room and have a bath together,” he suggested, desperate for any activity that wouldn’t further drain his account. He could do it. He could have a long bath with her, listen to her prattle on and somehow make his dick rise to the occasion enough for her to believe he meant it.
“Boring,” she pouted, but thankfully she was distracted by a woman walking past in what was apparently a new skirt from some Italian designer dude’s collection.
She droned on all through lunch, giving him a headache.
He rubbed his temples. Why had he ever found her impressive?
This woman was dull and repetitive. She never shut up but at the same time, she never said anything at all.
He couldn’t decide what was worse, her complaints or her demands.
“Let’s go for a walk then. My back could do with it after last night’s crappy sleep,” he suggested with fully intended snark.
“Yeah, and you snored all fucking night so it’s not like I slept,” she said crossing her arms and moving forward in her chair to glare at him.
“Fine, you walk. I’ll shop. Give me your card,” she demanded.
“No, the Bank of Shane can pay for that. I’ve covered everything else,” he snapped back, pushing his empty plate away from him angrily.
The check came and he signed it to his room. Before he drained his after-lunch coffee, the waiter returned.
“Sorry sir, your card has been declined.”
“What?” Mason asked.
“Run it again. God, you people don’t know what you’re doing. I’m an accountant. His card is good,” she snapped.
The waiter obediently disappeared, but reappeared moments later and repeated his message.
Mason sat in his seat, sweating. What could he do? He couldn’t use his joint account with Anna. He was nowhere near where he said he’d be this weekend. How could he explain a $120 lunch charge at a hotel that was hours from his “work site?”
“Um, April, can you cover it please? It must be a banking error.”
April shot daggers at him but handed over her card.
“What the fuck Mase?” she hissed.
“It’s a banking error. I move money around all the time. I’ll fix it,” he promised. “Besides, I’m sure it won’t kill you to cover something in this relationship.”
She threw her hands in the air and then crossed them over her chest. Her eyes were pure fire. The poor waiter looked like he thought she was going to bite off his hand when he returned her card.
“I’m going shopping,” she snarled.
“I’m going for a walk on the beach,” he retorted.
They both rose, pushing their chairs back to the point that his chair fell over. Walking in separate directions, they stormed out of the restaurant.