CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

My stomach churned through the rest of the week. I think it was filled with a nice, acidic regret. And maybe some guilt too, though that one made less sense. I wasn’t attached to anyone; I shouldn’t have felt any qualms about telling Ethan I’d go out with him. But I did.

I never should’ve said yes. I wasn’t really in the dating mood; well, not in the mood to date anyone but one person. And that one person wasn’t Ethan Riker.

But that one person ~was~ utterly forbidden and I should move on. I mean, if his visit Saturday night to tell me about his escapades with married woman and detail his stupid plan—that totally didn’t involve me—hadn’t convinced me he was forbidden, then Wednesday night certainly did.

I arrived for my babysitting duties to find he had already left for work—typical—but an envelope full of money had been stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. My name and the words ~babysitting $~ had been scribbled on the front in his heavy scrawl. Somehow he’d known exactly how much Dawn owed me.

It hit me then. Like really~, Reese, wake up and smell the lattes~ hit me.

His sense of responsibility toward his family was everything to him. Everything. He didn’t care if his obligations made him do things that caused him to feel trapped or had him feeling dirty until he hated a part of himself. He wasn’t going to stop taking care of Dawn and Sarah in the only way he knew how. He had sold his soul to ensure every bill his mother forgot to pay was taken care of, even the fricking babysitter’s bill.

A part of me hated him for that, since I was the one who got shafted because of his unwavering, altruistic commitment. But another part of me admired and respected him for his love and sacrifice for his mother and sister. He did it because he cared so much for them, and I adored the way he loved those closest to him. It made me ache to become a member of that exclusive circle.

I almost ignored the money. Its origins made me sick. Plus he needed it for important things, certainly not some of the trivial things I’d used it for, like those cute earrings I’d ordered online that totally matched my nose ring. And I didn’t care if no one ever paid me another cent for spending time with Sarah. But I took it anyway, because I knew it would make Mason feel even cheaper and dirtier if I didn’t.

I’d donate it to some charity, or maybe to the baby fund I had a bad feeling Eva was going to need.

And I told myself that I would only be friends with Mason from here on out. No more flirty texts, no more forbidden thoughts—okay, that one was impossible to do, but I would at least try—and sadly, no more lunches together. He didn’t need me attempting to tempt him away from his goals of supporting his family.

I was set on this plan until Mason actually appeared by my table during my lunch break on Friday and plopped his bag onto the bench across from me.

“Hey.” He paused to draw in a deep breath before adding, “Sweet Pea,” with a large, knowing smile.

Damn. My plans to stay away and respect his decisions fizzled completely.

But I couldn’t help it. I was beginning to have withdrawals. After getting to see so much of him this past weekend—literally and figuratively, wink, wink—no Mason in five days just felt…wrong. Besides, he had come to me. So even as I told myself to shoo him along, my pulse raced with joy as he seated himself.

Feigning a heart attack, I slapped my hand over my chest and gasped. “What is this? You’re sitting with me…~in public~? Have the horny guy urges subsided then? Have I lost my seductive appeal completely? Say it ain’t so.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “No. They have not subsided. I’ve simply come to the conclusion we’re going to have to accept that the urges will probably be a permanent facet of our relationship from here on out. And if you say you can control yours, then I’ll try to control mine.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Big of you.”

A full, throaty laugh rumbled from his chest. “That and I can’t see your nose wrinkling from all the way across the courtyard. You have no idea how much I’ve missed that.”

His cute and playful side got to me like nothing else. Needing to control my own urges, I sighed and went back to my homework I’d been trying to work on before he’d appeared. “Yeah, yeah. I bet you’re just falling behind in calculus and need my help.”

Without denying it, he gave a shrug. “Since you mentioned it…” He pulled his calculus book from his messenger bag and flipped it open to the page where his homework sat, half finished. As he searched for a pencil, he asked, “What’re you feeding me today?”

His smile was so fresh and alive, it sparked a piece of life back into me, something that had wilted in the past few days without a good dose of him around.

I still couldn’t believe Mason was here, across the table from me, being my friend again. Without saying one sarcastic comment, I slid what was left of my mini bag of potato chips across the table to him, since I had finished all I was going to eat, and I probably would’ve offered him one of my most cherished lattes at this point because I was so thrilled he was here.

He nodded in approval and snagged my chip bag. “Nacho cheese. Nice.” As he pulled out a handful, he glanced at me. “Turn in your English paper yet?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Oh, so you care about my English paper ~today~, huh?”

His shoulders slumped. “Reese. Come on. I’m sorry I said that to you at the party. I was in a mood.” He set his hand over his heart and sent me a pout of sincere apology. “I care about ~everything~ you do.”

I groaned to cover the whimper of melting emotions. “Okay, enough already. The bullshit around here is getting too deep to wade through.”

“What?” He had the gall to look offended. “I’m serious.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. So let me guess. Your landlady still thinks you and I are riding the baby-making train together, doesn’t she?”

With a sigh, he dusted the nacho cheese dust off his fingers. “Pretty much.”

“Wow.” I sighed as if ashamed of Mrs. Garrison for her prejudiced opinion. “Why is it so hard for people to think we’re just friends?”

Mason studied me a moment, his expression probing and indistinguishable, before he gave a non-answer shrug. I could tell he didn’t want to discuss the topic.

“She insulted me when she had you cornered at Sarah’s birthday party, didn’t she?”

“Yep.” This time, his distraction tactic was to open his bag and pull out my copy of ~The Prisoner of Azkaban~, which I’d left with Sarah a week ago.

Snapping my fingers, I crowed. “I knew it! Typical, petty, jealous move. What’d she say? She said I have a big butt, didn’t she?”

Rolling his eyes, Mason muffled out his answer from a full mouth. “She did not say you have a big butt. Trust me, your butt is…perfect.”

I swallowed. Then swallowed again. I don’t know why his compliments totally came at me from left field. He gave me plenty of them. Still, I was never prepared for the impact his flattering words wrought.

Not quite sure how to respond, I waved my hand and kept talking about Mrs. Garrison, because I felt petty and jealous myself. “Then what did she say about me?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye as he tipped the bottom of the chip bag up to make sure he had freed every last crumb. “Don’t worry about it.”

My mouth fell open. “Oh, now you ~have~ to tell me.”

What the heck had that evil cougar ~said~? I knew I wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But I couldn’t think of any of my body parts that were so abnormal that Mason couldn’t divulge her insult.

He sent me a warning frown, asking me to drop it.

So not going to happen.

“Come on,” I pressed. “Just tell me. I’ll be your best friend.” I fluttered my lashes.

He rolled his eyes. “You already ~are~ my best friend.”

I was? I straightened, alarmed, flattered, and extremely touched. Aww…another unprepared compliment. I blossomed with delight. “Well…thank you. But as my new bestie, you’re now obligated to tell me what she said.”

“Reese,” he groaned.

My alarm grew. “Oh, my God. How bad ~was~ it?”

“It wasn’t even true. So…just drop it. Please.”

Oh, hell, no. “If it wasn’t true, then why can’t you tell—”

“Fine. She said you were an attention seeker. Okay? She said you were stealing the limelight away from Sarah on her own birthday, which wasn’t—”

“Oh, my God. Did I?” I set my hand over my chest, where an acute ache had started.

I couldn’t believe that witch. She’d just totally broken jealous girl code number one. When insulting the ~other~ woman, you went after her looks…not her personality. God. What a nasty blow below the belt.

Her dirty tactics had definitely done the job though. I felt awful.

Well played, skanky pimp landlady, well played.

But I’d only acted so ~out there~ at the party to help ease the awkwardness. I’d wanted to show the other girls how sweet, and loveable, and fun Sarah was. I’d been trying to place the attention ~on~ her, not steal it ~from~ her.

“No!” Mason broke in emphatically. “I ~told~ you, what she said wasn’t true.”

“But—”

“Listen to me.” He leaned partially over the table to look me straight in the eye. “Before you showed up on Sunday, my sister was absolutely miserable. The next morning, she said it was the best birthday she’d ever had. And that was because of you, got it? ~You~ made those other girls interact with her. And now, that tall one, Sorcha, she’s even coming back on Saturday afternoon to spend the day with Sarah.”

“Really?” I brightened, excited to learn this. “That’s great. ~Oh~! I liked Sorcha.” And now, I totally loved her.

Mason shook his head and gave me a slight grin. “You are the least selfish person I know.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Well…I can be a little selfish.”

Okay, a lot selfish. ~Jeez~. Picky much?

He didn’t look convinced. “I don’t see it. That day in the library…with Dr. Janison and Eva.”

Wincing, I remembered.

“Every woman treats me that way, Reese. I’m not a person to them. I’m just…a good time or something vile to be avoided at all costs. And then you came along and you…you ~hugged~ me. You are the first person who sees me, Mason, not ~sex~ for sale. And that kind of compassion is not a sign of a selfish person. At all.”

“I…” My lashes beat like a hummingbird’s wings, batting away any possible tears. “Well, thank you. But you ~are~ a person, and—”

He lifted a finger to hush me. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. And you are…you’re…” He paused to shake his head.

“I’m…?” I prompted, not sure if I wanted to know where this was going, but my curiosity was too intrigued not to push for more.

“You’re quirky…and yet conventional. Innocent but worldly. Reserved yet outgoing. Candid yet guarded. Trendy but also practical. And childlike while still managing to be mature. It’s like…you’re the perfect contradiction.”

I gulped, gaping at him and unable to say a single word. For him to come up with that kind of explanation, he’d really had to think it through. Knowing Mason had thought of me so thoroughly took my breath away.

He stared at me a moment longer as if he wanted to say more, something probably meaningful enough to knock me on my butt, but he cleared this throat and glanced down. Seeing the book in his hand, he handed it across the table to me. “Anyway...here. I think I can officially say I’m addicted to ~Harry Potter~. Sarah and I couldn’t wait to borrow ~The Goblet of Fire~. We bought our own copy and started it yesterday.”

I cleared my throat, trying to catch up with the one-eighty he’d just taken in our conversation. “Wow.” I swiped at my cheeks to make sure they were dry—which they were, thank you, God—before I took ~The Prisoner of Azkaban~ back. “You and Sarah are just cruising through the series. I’m impressed.”

“That going-back-in-time scene was really cool. I couldn’t put it down.”

Grinning, I hugged the hardback to my chest. “It was always one of my favorites too. Especially when they saved Buckbeak.”

“I ended up reading it twice. Once when I read ahead, and then again when Sarah wanted it read to her.” His eyes warmed as he smiled. “Which reminds me…”

He half stood so he could slide his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and dig something out. Curling his fingers around whatever he’d retrieved, he grinned mischievously enough to make me suspicious as he sat back down.

I leaned in slightly. “What do you have there?”

His lips spread wider. “Something for you. I had it made. This guy I know takes an advanced metal crafting class and put it together.”

Totally not expecting that, I straightened. “You did what?”

He extended his hand and uncurled his fingers. “I know it’s pretty crude, but I thought it might fit on your bracelet.”

A tiny silver charm blinked up at me in the sunlight. My mouth fell open. His friend had somehow crafted the ~Harry Potter~ logo, making the initials H.P. with the lightning bolt in the P and everything. To me, it didn’t look crude at all. It looked perfect.

“Oh, my God.” I took it from his fingers with gentle reverence. “This is amazing, Mason.”

“He almost ruined the surprise on Sunday when he called during Sarah’s birthday party to tell me he was done. I’d been hoping he’d finish before then.”

I glanced up, shocked to learn that call had been about a surprise for me…not a client setting up an appointment. And here, that had been one of the biggest deciding factors I’d had for telling Ethan I would—

I shook my head, not wanting to think about that right now. Mason had ordered a present to be made especially for me.

“I had one made for Sarah too. Yours was actually the prototype. So I think it might contain a few more mistakes.”

“What mistakes?” I shook my head as I used the tiny hook that had been made to attach it to my bracelet. “It’s flawless.” I held my wrist up so I could see all the charms dangle. The HP was by far my favorite. I looked up with a big goofy grin, my heart full of affection. “Thank you.”

He opened his mouth to answer when someone sat on the bench seat beside me. I wasn’t expecting Eva today, but when I turned, I thought it would be her.

Ethan’s face totally caught me off guard. He grinned. “Hey.”

I fumbled. “Umm. Hi…Ethan.” A blush hit me so hard I could feel it spread from the roots of my hair all the way down my neck. “I…I’m not used to seeing you on a Friday.”

He chuckled. “I know. But I saw you over here and thought I’d say hi.” Then he glanced across the table. “Hey, Mason.” Giving a friendly wave, he seemed nothing but congenial and courteous.

And yet Mason reacted as if he’d been flipped the bird. “Riker,” he bit out in a tense voice, pulling back slightly in his seat to send a suspicious, narrow-eyed stare back and forth between us.

“Oh! You two know already each other?” I blurted out, wanting to keep things as kosher as Mason obviously didn’t want them to be. “Great. That saves me from making introductions because obviously…I forgot to make introductions.” I snorted at my own lame joke, revealing just how nervous I was.

Ethan grinned like a gentleman, but Mason looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. My grin died a quick, painful death.

“So, I’m really excited about tomorrow night,” Ethan went on. “And I forgot to ask: Was there anywhere special you wanted to go?”

“Umm…” I bit my lip, desperately trying to ignore the way Mason swung his head to gape at me. Color leeched from my face, and I grasped for reasonable thought. But why did I suddenly feel…awful?

“No,” I croaked. “I can’t think of anything. Just…wherever is fine. I’m not too familiar with Waterford yet.”

“Great.” Ethan’s smile was slow and pleased. “I have a couple places in mind.” He glanced at his wristwatch and let out an impatient breath. “I have to get to class. See you tomorrow.”

He stood up just as quickly as he’d sat down. Then he bent toward me and stamped a quick kiss to my cheek before I even realized what he had planned.

“Whoa!” I blurted out and leaned away, even though he’d already pulled back.

He paused to squint his eyes at me questioningly. I flushed and opened my mouth to apologize. But the waves of anger coming across the table from Mason made me stop. With a tense smile, I said, “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, darted a glance to Mason, and took off.

I stared after him, biting my lip, too afraid to breathe. Maybe if I didn’t mention anything, Mason wouldn’t question it. But when I risked a glance his way, I knew immediately, he would question it. Big time.

“You’re going out with him? ~Tomorrow~?”