He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her with that same impassive expression he’d worn most of the night. “But you meant the rest.”
“About us being friends and nothing more? Yes.” The words were bitter sliding off her tongue.
“Any particular reason you feel we don’t have any potential? I know, you don’t owe me an explanation, but I’m asking for one anyway. I wasn’t ready to go ring shopping, but I also wasn’t fucking you because I needed a place to stick my dick. I want to see where we go. I thought you did too. If I read that wrong... Did I read that wrong?”
“No.” She couldn’t lie about that. “I wanted it too, but things change. The last couple of weeks are proof that life can land on its ass in a split second. I don’t see that option for us anymore.” That hurt. It left a gaping hole in her chest that the most potent logic couldn’t fill. Guy she may or may not fall in love with, or career chance of a lifetime for both of them?
Pick the guy.
She couldn’t.
“I’m going to ask again...” the pain leaking into Mason’s voice matched what Ginny felt, “...why not? Why are you writing this off now? I’m not talking about you owe me sex because I invested time in us. This isn’t about the sex. We’re having fun together. Is it because of Trina? I’ll cut her of my life.”
“No.” The word came out more sharply than Ginny intended. “I’m not going to dictate who you spend time with, and you can’t give up this job. That’s what it’s about. The jobs... You’re not the only one who had an offer today.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat that tried to silence her. “I have an opportunity in Montana. It came out of nowhere, and it will do for me what this offer of Spencer’s will do for you. Neither of us can pass this up. We may never have these chances again.”
And that was true. It broke her heart to admit it, but reality was what it was.
“I see.”
Why couldn’t she tell what he was thinking? That was her thing. “I wish things were differently. If I could see any way around this...”
Mason shook his head. “No. You’re right. We both have to do this.”
Don’t agree with me. Give me a new answer. Something that lets us stay together.
But that answer didn’t exist. “The apartment is paid for the next two months. You’re welcome to stay here until you get settled in Malibu.”
“And just like that, we’re over before we start.”
Ginny nodded. She was out of words. It would be nice if she was devoid of feelings, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
He shouldn’t have come to the wedding. He justified it—Trina was his friend, Spencer was going to be his boss, and Ginny obviously didn’t care.
But this sucked.
He sat with the bride’s friends, and like everyone else, watched in awe as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. Her older brother and a guy who looked suspiciously like someone Mason saw in a video game once were Spencer’s best men. Two women Mason never met stood on Trina’s side.
Who would be by Ginny’s side at her wedding? Mason would ask Max to be his best man—
That was a bad train of thought to entertain. He didn’t even know if he loved her, and now there was no chance he’d find out.
The ceremony was beautiful. Mason had never seen Trina so happy. Her glow lit up the room brighter than the sun streaming through the church windows. And the way Spencer rarely pulled his gaze from her filled the air with an almost tangible adoration.
Mason was furiously jealous. Not of Spencer, but of the love that flowed in the room.
He headed to the reception hall, wondering as he drove why he was hanging around.
Because this is better than being at Ginny’s place, pretending life is continuing as normal.
He waited in line to congratulate the bride and groom. “You look incredible,” he said to Trina when it was his turn.
“You’re sweet. I’m glad you came.” She hugged him. He shook Spencer’s hand, and listened to her have an almost identical conversation with the person behind him.
Would Ginny go nuts in a setting like this? Sure, she was practiced at it, but did she have dreams of a white dress and a huge wedding party, or would she want to elope? Pay a guy dressed as Elvis to marry them in a Las Vegas chapel?
Maybe someday she’d give those answers to the right guy.
Mason sat at a table at the back of the hotel reception room, listening to the people around him chatter. He watched as Trina danced with her father, who then switched places with Spencer. He watched as everyone else spilled onto the floor.
He politely brushed off a brunette in a stunning pink dress, when she asked if he’d join her.
Why was he still here?
Right. It was still less awkward than going home.
He sat there through a couple more songs. It was time for him to call it a night.
“Hey, Mr. Scowly.” Trina pulled out a chair and sat next to him. “Where’s Ginny?”
“Working.” He didn’t want to get into this with anyone, but especially not her. Tonight was her night.
“Is that why your frown is etched in place?”
Mason forced a smile. It probably looked horrible. “Something like that. She’s moving to Montana soon, and...” And what? Wouldn’t talk to him anymore?
“Oh.” Trina frowned. “Are you going with her? Is that why you haven’t taken the job yet? I know, that’s between you and Spencer, but I was curious.”
“No, I’m not going with her. And I am going to take the job, I just haven’t made it official yet.” Saying it aloud, that he was accepting, was the one bright spot in his day. He wanted this opportunity.
Spencer stepped up next to Trina and rested his hand on her shoulder. She covered his hand with hers. “Did you break up? Are you going to try to make it work long distance? Sorry if I’m prying.”
“We weren’t a couple.” Mason hated the reality of that. He was going to say she just puts on a good show, but the resentment wasn’t there.
“Oh. I could have sworn...” She glanced at her new husband. “He said yes.”
“Glad to hear it.” Spencer shook Mason’s hand. “You and I will talk when she and I get back.”
“Yeah. No problem. And I won’t make the two of you talk business. Congratulations to both of you. You look very happy,” Mason said.
Trina’s grin was back. “We really are.”
They drifted off to talk to other people.
A short while later, Mason left. He intended to stay in town for the night, rather than make the six-hour drive back to San Francisco, but half an hour later he was on the freeway headed home.
He should be sick of driving after the trip out here. Instead, the only thing he didn’t look forward to, was making the trip alone.
Rather than listen to his thoughts, he cranked the radio, cracked the windows, and let the external noise fill his head.
When he got home, Ginny’s bedroom door was open, but he wasn’t surprised to find her sleeping.
He wanted to talk, but he wouldn’t wake her up to do so. It would wait until tomorrow.
WHEN GINNY HEARD MASON come home, she did the most childish thing she’d done in ages—and she knew that was saying a lot considering her behavior the past few days. She pretended to sleep.
Every time she had to face him, it was more difficult. She was grateful she’d come clean about her reasons for leaving. That she’d put her feelings on the table, but also made the choice clear.
This was killing her, though. Seeing Mason made her question her decision, and it got worse with each encounter. If she caved and stayed, she’d resent him, despite the fact it was her decision. If she left and took him with her, he’d probably harbor the same feelings. This was the only way.
And no matter how many times she told herself that, it felt like she was giving up.
She didn’t need to be in Montana for a few days, but staying there alone was better than being here and
ignoring Mason. Half an hour later, she’d changed her plane reservation, packed her few belongings, and called for a cab.
She padded quietly into the kitchen, and scribbled him a note.
It took her several scratched out false-starts, before she decided on I had to leave early. I’m sorry I missed you. Keep in touch.
Ginny didn’t make a sound as she walked to the front door. She grabbed the knob.
“Really?” Mason’s flat voice hit her back. “I get a note and you sneaking out in the middle of the night? I don’t even rate a personal goodbye?”
She gripped the knob tightly, to give her something to focus on. “I guess so.”
His soft footsteps on might as well have been drumbeats for the way they echoed in her ears. He stopped close enough his heat radiated toward her. “At least let me drive you to the airport.”
“I already called a cab.” She couldn’t look at him. She’d falter and break if she did.
“I see. So... I guess have a safe flight and thanks for everything and good luck.”
“Me too.” Her voice cracked. Her response didn’t make sense. At least she’d managed to say something.
He kissed the top of her head. “Goodbye.”
She didn’t trust herself to say anything else, so she left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mason swore he heard a sob right before the door shut between them.
He understood the sentiment. He was tempted to do the same.
So that was it. She was gone, and they’d both move on.
Except he couldn’t do that. If she’d told him to go to hell, or that she never wanted to see him again, he’d let her walk away.
That didn’t describe now. But he also couldn’t chase her down. They were pursuing her dreams. Asking her to stay an extra day or two would just make that harder.
He wandered to the couch and flopped onto the middle cushion. What was he supposed to do?
Ginny said they were friends. Mason wanted that. He’d be happy with that. He fished his phone out of his pocket.
He typed I miss you, then erased it. The words had too much implication.
Enjoy life. He deleted that too. It was too cold.
Have a safe flight. He clicked Send.
A response buzzed through within seconds. You already said that.
The response might be snarky, but he heard it in her voice, with a hint of teasing, and couldn’t help his smile. But now you have written proof.
:) Thank you.
How did such a brief thought make him feel so much better? It wasn’t as good as having her here, but suddenly it didn’t feel like she’d cut everything off between them.
We’ll keep in touch, right? he asked.
Do you want to?
Of course he did. Of course I do.
Me too.
This time he understood what she meant by that.
Send me a message when you land, so I know you’re safe, he typed.
I will. Talk to you in a few hours.
Mason let his phone drop onto the couch. That wasn’t a solution, but it was a start.
GINNY WAS DRAINED WHEN she got back to her motel room. One day on the job, and she could already see it would be tougher than her residency in San Francisco.
She’d sat in on a consultation with a girl about her age, who was living in a shelter with her daughter. Mother and daughter had escaped an abusive boyfriend six months ago, and the woman had finally found work.
Ginny’s heart had cracked when the woman started crying with gratitude and relief. But it was a good crack. Ginny wanted to wrap her up and tell her that despite the bumps, as long as she kept pushing, she’d keep rising above it all.
There were going to be crushing days as well, Ginny knew that, but this was a good reminder to start with, that she was helping these women.
She had a mile-long to-do list. Things she’d done to prepare for life in San Francisco that she needed to do here. Apartment hunting was on the top of the list. It would wait until her next day off. Tonight, she wanted to plant herself in front of the TV, with a pint of ice cream, and tune out the world.
Half an hour later, the ice cream was gone, and nothing was grabbing her attention on the television.
Call Mason.
She shouldn’t do that.
Why not?
Good question. One she didn’t have an answer to. Friends talked, right? She’d spoken to both Colleen and Shannon when she got into town.
She wanted to Facetime with Mason, but he had to be an Android snob. She should get him to walk her through installing a different video app, so she could see him. Tonight, she settled for dialing his number all normal-like.
“Hey.” He answered before the first ring finished.
The cheer in his voice made her grin. “Hey, yourself. This is Ginny, by the way.”
“I kind of figured, with your name showing up on the screen and all. Besides, I recognize your voice.”
How did he make her blush with such a simple statement? “You sure?” she teased. “You haven’t forgotten my name in the sea of women pounding down your door?”
“Never. Not in a million, gazillion years could I forget your voice.”
That just wasn’t fair. “Shameless flatterer.”
“Only for you. How was your first day of work?”
“Exhausting. Rewarding.” I wish I’d come home to you. She wasn’t going that far. This was their reality, and she wouldn’t make things worse.
“I’m glad to hear it. Except the exhausting part.”
“Me too.” What was she supposed to say now? Small talk should be her thing. “How’s not having to worry about work?”
“It’s good. I’m binge-watching Supernatural.”
She should tease him. Ask if he was checking out Sam or Dean. It wasn’t as much fun without him here. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah.”
Wow, this sucked. She wanted to chat for hours. Watch the show with him. Poke holes in the plot, but also be scared by the monster of the week.
But she didn’t want to miss him more. “So... I guess I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Sure. Cool.” His flat tone reflected her disappointment. “Call me tomorrow when you’re done with work.”
She should tell him no. “I will.”
Maybe she’d conveniently forget. Or send him a text that said she had another appointment.
Or maybe she’d wean herself from his company more slowly. Another call tomorrow wouldn’t hurt.
Until there were no more calls.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Mason’s phone chimed, and he grinned at the flashing video chat icon. Ginny had asked him last night for instructions to install something. It seemed like it had worked.
He answered, and her face appeared on screen. It had been less than a week, but seeing her again, even long-distance, was like a salve on his heart.
“Hey, handsome.” She grinned. Faint shadows hung under her eyes, and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail.
She looked incredible.
“Hey yourself, sexy lady. Welcome to your weekend.”
Ginny scrunched up her nose. Her freckles stretched on screen before smooshing into a new pattern. “I think I have more to do over the next few days than during the week.”
“You need a break first.” He liked seeing her this way. He liked seeing her at all. It wasn’t as good as having her here, but he’d take what he could get.
She twisted her mouth. “Did you have anything in mind?”
“Well... Dean’s about to have to throw Sam into hell to save the world.”
“Spoilers.” She sounded indignant.
Except she’d seen the series. She’d known half the lines in the episode they watched last night. Apparently, she used to fall asleep with it on when she needed background noise to drown out an overactive mind.
“If you’re not interested now that you know how it ends...” He let the teasing threat hang bet
ween them.
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I can watch. This time.”
“On three?”
She nodded. “One. Two. Three.”
He hit play, and she would too.
It was kind of surreal, letting the show stream on his laptop, while he kept his phone propped up nearby, so he could see Ginny’s face. Her expressions as the show played were worth it, though.
“I wonder if I can get one of those angel blades,” she asked.
“Who are you going to use it on?”
There was no hesitation. “Any man who’s responsible for putting a woman in a situation where she needs our care. Or do you think that’s overkill?”
“I think it’s perfectly appropriate.” The conversation faded again, aside from her interjecting the characters’ lines occasionally, but the silence was comfortable.
“How do you think they torture a masochist in Hell?” Mason asked.
Ginny’s furrowed brow said she was considering the question. “Make them comfortable and offer them a cup of coffee?”
They kept watching until his phone beeped with a low battery warning. “I should let you go. My phone is dying.” He hated saying the words. It was tempting to plug into the charger, and keep her on the line all night.
“I guess so.” Her reluctance matched his. “I do have a busy day ahead of me.”
He only had a few seconds left. He could plug in, but he did that last night and spent another hour saying goodbye. “Good luck with the apartment hunt.”
“Thank you. Make sure you’re charged, because I’m going to call for your opinion.”
“I’ll be here. Night.”
“Night.”
He disconnected before he could say something he couldn’t take back.
The video chat was nice, but God, it made hanging up even harder. How long until he accepted she wasn’t coming back? Until the calls became less frequent, and he learned to move on.
Drive Me Wild (Ridden Hard, #4) Page 14