by Eden Summers
The room remained quiet, her heart rate increasing with her growing frustration until his lips finally parted. She held her breath, waiting for a response. Something. Anything to tell her he still had a heart.
“And what should I apologize for, wildcat?”
***
MASON WATCHED SHOCK consume Sidney’s features, and then with a blink, it changed to fury. She was livid with his question, her hands clutching the edge of the table, threatening to break the wood.
“W-What should you apologize for?” She straightened her shoulders and glared at him. “Christ!” She shook her head, ran a rough hand through her loose hair, and then finally laughed with derision. “Of course you don’t know. You’re the all ignorant Mason fucking Lynch. You don’t give a shit about anyone other than yourself.”
That was a lie. He’d always cared for her. Their problems had actually been born from his infatuation. Yet, he couldn’t deny her accusations because the truth was tough to admit. The night of the Grammys, he’d fallen harder in lust for her, with the force of a skydiver without a parachute. He began hanging on her every word. Memorizing every smile. When she’d been in his bed, he’d retrieved his phone with the solitary intent to capture a piece of their time together. He hadn’t wanted to forget how good that night felt.
What happened in the following days had been out of his control. It wasn’t a publicity stunt, like so many people claimed. He hadn’t shared the recording with a soul. The fact half the world had viewed it made him sick. But no one had ever bothered to hear his side of the story. Except the police. He’d been judged by his so-called friends within seconds, announced guilty within a breath, and like Sidney, his life had never been the same.
She wasn’t alone in being pissed as hell and hurting. He’d laid through hundreds of sleepless nights, and finally the toll had caught up with him. His muse was gone, his passion had dried up, and there was no doubt in his mind that it all stemmed from that one fucking video.
He laughed to himself. Fucking video. Yes, yes it was.
Sidney’s mouth dropped, and she let out a breath of incredulity. Shit.
“Thanks for dinner,” she spat. “Unfortunately, I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Sid…” He grabbed for her arm, to somehow soothe the situation.
She pulled away from him, glaring at his hand as if it were diseased. “Don’t you dare.”
He let his arm fall, the anguish in her eyes causing nausea to creep up his throat. “I’m…” He couldn’t say it. The words wouldn’t leave his throat no matter how much he wanted to ease her pain. His chest constricted, but he couldn’t apologize for something he didn’t do.
“You’re what?”
He held her stare, already hating his reply. “Nothin’.”
“Right.” She frowned, her gaze drifting into space. “I can’t believe I’m still hung up on hearing those words from you.” She sighed, her fury being replaced with an icy resignation which chilled his bones. “I’ll be ready on Monday, Mason. Until then, leave me the hell alone.”
He took one final look at her, making sure the masochistic part of him received a full dose of her anguish. Then he left without a word, not even bothering about his dinner. If he opened his mouth, he’d regret whatever blurted out, and at the moment, he had enough remorse to last a lifetime. He tromped his ass from the pool house, sulked through the kitchen, down the hall leading to the far right of the building, and locked himself in his studio.
He was pissed off, his blood thrumming, his ears filling with static, and for the life of him, he couldn’t turn it off. Sidney had a hold on his heart, she always had, and he’d do anything to get rid of it. He didn’t like feeling weak. It was hard enough losing his muse, but his balls too? Hell no. He had to work out a way to get what he needed from her, and get over the past at the same time.
Trying to calm himself, he grabbed his favorite Gibson acoustic, made a beeline for the stool in the middle of the room, and sat in silence. The walls closed in on him, almost making him claustrophobic. This place used to be his sanctuary. The one room he felt like that chick from the Titanic standing at the bow, arms outstretched, flying like a majestic eagle. He fucking soared in here. Well, he used to.
Time passed, minutes or hours, he wasn’t sure. Every moment was filled with images of Sidney in his mind. The way she used to smile at him. How she’d nudge his shoulder and laugh at his ridiculous jokes. The way her face lit up with euphoria when her name was called from the Grammy stage.
What he wouldn’t give to relive that night. As mind shattering as her mouth had felt against his, if he had his time over, he’d choose never to kiss her. Never to brush his fingers along her delicate skin or feel the curve of her breasts pressing against his chest. He’d give it up to return to the way things were. To a time when he was disillusioned at having a great group of friends and didn’t have to pretend the other Reckless Beat members had his back, when it was now clear, they didn’t even know him at all.
Leisurely, he strummed the strings, sighing with regret over the past, over his accomplishments which seemed more profound when they were with her. They’d been a great team. Kicking ass and taking names.
Without realizing, he started humming, echoing the sound drifting from his guitar, making voice and instrument come together as one. Wildcat woman, you make me burn. Wildcat woman, you have a lot to learn. His fingers moved faster, his heart changing from a dull beat to an enthusiastic tempo. He scrambled for a notepad and pen from the stool beside him, blindly scribbling notes on the paper.
I’ll make you succumb, just wait and see. There’s not another man who knows you like me.
A grin split his face, adrenaline coursed through his veins, and as the night progressed, more lyrics flittered into his mind. Dark and edgy, soft and soulful. He preferred his music rough, with a gritty aftertaste and a lot of bite, but he wouldn’t leave any words off the page.
Let me drown in your body, and lap up your cream. Don’t worry, wildcat woman, I’ll fuck you till you scream. His muse was a crazy mofo, finally back with vengeance, and nothing made him happier. He wanted to shout, to yell his appreciation to the heavens, and fall to his knees in thanks. I let you rule my life, left broken friendships in my wake. Now I’m crumpled on the floor, alone, with nothing left for you to take.
As soon as his pen scribbled the final letter his mind blanked, his chest hollowed, and the unmistakable emptiness that accompanied the vanishing of his muse took over. He tried to restart the process, to strum his guitar, hum, and picture Sidney. Nothing worked. His thoughts were clear, bone-dry.
He closed his eyes and ran a hand over the stubble marring his jaw, suddenly succumbing to exhaustion. At least he wasn’t ruined. His muse had returned, invigorated and sadistic, even if temporarily. He just needed to figure out how to get her to stay.
The more he thought about it, the more it became clear. Sidney had been the reason he’d lost his muse. She was the one who sparked his creativity to life. He had to fix things between them, and somehow do it with his pride intact. He couldn’t apologize for something he didn’t do, and he sure as shit couldn’t bear the full weight of blame.
First thing tomorrow, he was going to work his magic, reclaiming Sidney’s friendship and getting his career back on track. He just needed to determine how.
MASON SHUFFLED INTO the kitchen the next morning, his eyes still adjusting to the bright sunlight as he flicked on the coffee machine. He’d almost slept until lunch, which wasn’t a surprise when he hadn’t climbed into bed until after three.
Like every other night, his thoughts were plagued with re-runs of the sex tape. His conscience liked to taunt him daily, replaying his decisions as if waiting for him to admit to his mistakes.
He never would.
He refused to regret taking the snapshot in time. The recording captured the only instance where he’d been interested in something other than lust. Infatuation hadn’t taken hold of him before. He’d never given a sh
it about the ladies who shared his bed, until Sidney. Sleeping with a friend, someone he’d had an emotional connection to, had been profound, so he sure as shit had the right to seize the fucking moment. Especially when she hadn’t told him to stop.
As he sipped his coffee, he headed to the kitchen sink, resting his elbows against the counter while he peered out the large pane window. His gaze focused on movement over the far side of the fenced pool area, to the woman standing in the sunshine. Her dark hair shone in the light, her concentration capturing him, even from this distance. She was stretching, moving with practiced grace—Tai Chi? Yoga? He had no clue what it was, but he stood riveted as she continued to slowly slice the air with her hands, his dogs less than a foot away, watching with the same fascination.
Her hips followed the movements of her arms, turning her back to him. Then, as if the devil had whispered in her ear, she bent over, legs straight, and gave him the most tempting view of her ass.
“Nice, wildcat.” He grinned.
She still had a gorgeous view from behind. Yet, she was smaller now, her body less curvy than he remembered. He tried to convince himself it was a diet change or new exercise regime. Tried and failed. Deep down, he knew stress, and probably depression had made her this way. He’d gone through the same after his cock show went viral. The difference was, he’d bounced back when his ability to give a shit about the world was lost.
Again, she turned, and Willow and Shadow rushed to their feet, their eager noses nuzzling into her hips. Her face lit up with a dazzling smile, the first he’d seen from her in years. It took all his strength not to go to her, to view her tempting dimples up close and memorize her happiness before it faded. For a moment, all darkness between them vanished, and he was back in the past. Loving life, and quite possibly, loving her.
There was something about the way she showed his mutts affection that made his chest restrict. He cared for the guys of Reckless Beat, but after the way he’d been wrongly accused, Mason held them at arm’s length. They had his friendship, his support, and loyalty. However, the trust had been tarnished. The only other people he cared about were his sister and mother. So his dogs ranked highly on his affection scale. They were his sounding boards, and probably the closest he’d get to having children of his own.
When they continued to hound Sidney, making her stumble back, and begin running to start a playful game, he dumped his coffee in the sink, grabbed his sweater off the dining table, and headed outside. Time to win back the friendship of a woman who wished him dead, and reclaim his muse.
He strode toward her, his gaze never leaving the brilliant smile on her face as his girls jumped at her legs, barking in excitement. “Willow, Shadow, down,” he ordered. The dogs obeyed, their asses hitting the grass the same moment Sidney’s posture stiffened.
“Morning.” He couldn’t help eyeing her with appreciation. Her yoga pants were tight, the dark purple material clinging to her thighs, the way he wanted his hands to. The matching jacket did nothing for her figure. It hid her body and set his idle mind to work, picturing what she might have on underneath. “There’s coffee inside if you want some.”
The joy vanished from her features. “I’m fine.”
He quirked a brow. She kept saying that, and he knew it was a lie. He’d seen her naked, felt her curves beneath his rough palms. She was better than fine. She was fucking delectable, and his muse was ready for another taste, no matter how much his rational thinking begged to differ.
“So this is how it’s going to be?” he asked, stepping forward to scratch Shadow behind the ears. “Barely civil with a healthy dose of attitude.” He’d naively hoped their argument last night would’ve gotten the bitchiness out of her system. Ha! He was such a dickhead.
Sidney lowered her gaze, her chest expanding with a deep breath. When she glanced back up, her eyes were devoid of emotion. He couldn’t read her, couldn’t determine what she would say, and his chest pounded in anticipation.
“How many times do I have to say this, Mason? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be around you. I didn’t come to chit chat or pretend you didn’t feed me to the vultures. I’m here because you need me. I’m here to do you a favor. So don’t pass the time acting like we’re still friends.”
Ouch. “Message received.” He held up his hands in surrender. Winning her over wasn’t going to be easy. Women had always fawned over him. He’d didn’t know how to handle an adverse situation.
“About damn time,” she muttered.
An ache began to build under his ribs, tight and unyielding. In the few times he’d seen her in the last two years, he was guilty of riling her. He’d deliberately piss her off in the effort to deflect attention away from his own anger and resentment. Now, his feelings had changed. He was tired of shouldering the blame, and he desperately wanted his muse back. An added bonus would be Sidney finally opening her eyes and realizing he’d never been the asshole she thought he was. That he never would’ve done anything to deliberately hurt her.
She stalked away, daring to whistle his dogs to her side with her retreat. So much for his most loyal companions. They eagerly followed after her, not sparing him a second glance.
I’ll destroy you. Steal those you adore. And kick you in the balls, as I walk out the door. He chuckled with derision. It seemed his muse was infatuated with Ms. Higgins.
Determined to try his luck with Sidney later, he went inside to restart his coffee routine. He regained his position in front of the kitchen sink, watching his guest take a seat on one of the chairs outside the pool house, smothering his dogs with attention. He needed to reevaluate the situation. To determine the best way to break down the wall of hate she’d built between them. It didn’t have to be permanently demolished, maybe just a temporary fracture to give his muse what it needed.
He continued to ponder and enjoyed the first sip of hot liquid on his tongue. Expensive coffee, peaceful home, and a great view. The second taste was destroyed by the buzz of his gate intercom.
“Fuck off,” he groaned. He could’ve ignored the distraction if time hadn’t proven that people who showed up at his property usually had a good reason. Today, he didn’t want additional company. His mother would meddle, his sister too, and as far as he knew, Leah had gone back to New York with no plans to return.
Dragging his feet to the intercom panel beside the fridge, he pressed the button to speak. “Yo.”
“Open the gate, man. I’ve been trying to get hold of you on your cell for over ten minutes.”
“Sean?” He eyed his friend on the small security screen. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Apparently, playing decoy.”
Decoy? He didn’t want any damn decoy. He needed alone time with Sidney, so he could win her over.
“A little notice would’ve been nice. I’m not even dressed.” Something akin to jealousy sparked inside him. He didn’t want Sean near Sidney. He never had.
“Like I give a shit. Just open the fuckin’ gate.”
“SO, WHERE IS she?” The Reckless Beat drummer strode into the kitchen, scoping the halls as he passed.
“I don’t know,” Mason lied.
“What?” Sean turned, fixing him with a frown. “I thought this visit would be a godsend. Why aren’t the two of you in the studio trying to bang out lyrics?”
Oh¸ Mason wanted to bang her in the studio all right, but he didn’t have a chance in hell at the moment. He shrugged, hoping his act of indifference masked the annoyance pulsing through his veins. “If you thought we’d be working, why did you come around?”
“Because…if you weren’t focused on the new album, I didn’t like the chances of the two of you getting along. I’m actually surprised to not find you castrated and lying in a pool of your own blood.”
“Ha ha,” Mason drawled, ready to push Sean back out the front door. This shit was getting old. Fast. He was running out of time to figure out his next move with Sidney, and his muse was antsy to go in search of its insp
iration. “Well, now you know I’m safe. You can leave.”
A grin tugged at his friend’s lips as he strolled to the glass doors leading outside. “Trying to get rid of me?”
No shit. Mason didn’t bother answering. He walked to Sean’s side, following his gaze to Sidney standing in the sunshine. She was back to her Tai Chi routine, her body gently flowing like the breeze.
“How is she?” Sean asked, his tone devoid of humor.
Mason didn’t want to contemplate the answer. He’d been trying to ignore the guilt that would follow if he did. It was obvious she’d changed over the years, in appearance and temperament. She’d never been caustic before. In the last two years, she’d done a fine job honing the acid in her words. Her nastiness proved she was trying to hide similar scars to his own, and he wasn’t sure he could handle the extent of her suffering if he dug deeper.
Just because she hated him, didn’t mean he stopped caring about her. He simply worked harder to hide it. Not a day passed where he didn’t worry about what she was going through. And at the moment, she was defensive, feisty, with enough enthusiastic hatred to distract him from their underlying problems. He preferred to keep it that way. “I don’t know.”
Sean peered over his shoulder with a scowl. “If you two aren’t working, and you don’t care enough to ask how she’s doing, then why the hell is she here?”
Mason broke eye contact and turned this focus back to Sidney.
“I don’t get you, Mace. At one time, I thought you were really into her.”
“Literally speaking, I was.”
Sean growled. “Don’t do that. Don’t be an ass. She deserves better and you know it.” He shook his head in disgust and opened the door, taking a step outside. “Hey, Sidney.”
Mason scrutinized her, watching every move, every reaction as she straightened and turned with a growing smile.