by Eden Summers
Mason frowned. “Do you plan on hiding in the pool house while she’s here?”
“I probably would, if I wasn’t already going out with Sean.” The decision to accept the invitation had been easier than she anticipated. Coming face to face with the mother of the man the whole world had watched you deep-throat was a great motivator.
Chocolate eyes narrowed on her. “Since when?”
“Since now.”
“You’re welcome to come,” Sean added.
The tendons on the side of Mason’s jaw ticked, and she held her breath waiting for his response. She was weak, laughably so. She couldn’t stop herself from hoping he cared about her. It wouldn’t answer anything. It wouldn’t change the past. Yet, the thought kept nagging at her—if she could glimpse the slightest hint of regret, maybe the betrayal she couldn’t let go of would lessen.
“I’ll call her back and cancel.”
Sidney slowly released the air in her lungs, certain the apprehension tightening her chest was a precursor to the pain ahead. Sean’s plan was moving forward of its own volition, as if fate were pushing it along. Who was she to deny it? But now she had to consider the possible outcomes. Either way, if Mason had feelings for her, or if he didn’t care at all, there would be an emotional toll. And then there was the question of karma—what price was she willing to pay for putting this game into motion?
MASON HAD EATEN dinner alone, too frustrated with Sean overtaking his weekend to badger Sidney into sharing a meal. Little drummer boy had gone home to get ready, and still the lingering annoyance wouldn’t dissipate. Instead of spending the alone time trying to win Sidney over, Mason sulked to the pool house, handed her a covered plate of mushroom carbonara, and left without acknowledging her grumbled words of thanks.
The following half hour had been spent slicing through red tape to insure their night out wasn’t ruined by their celebrity status. He’d called Jim, his bodyguard, and told him the time and place to meet them. He’d also made the usual arrangements with their local drinking spot on the outskirts of Goochland. In return for a generous tip, the management and staff would organize additional security and keep their mouths shut about the superstars set to arrive.
Now, he was sitting back at his dining room table with a beer in hand, staring into space, hating everything that had gone wrong since Sidney arrived. His career was on the line, yet his pride and his dick kept fucking up his decisions. And watching Sean and Sidney flirt ramped the inability to hold his temper.
He continued to stare at the table as the glass door leading outside opened with a swoosh. Every tap of Sidney’s heels against the tile floor penetrated his chest, and her perfume entered his lungs, working through his blood like a virus set on destruction. He wondered if she’d picked the scent especially for Sean. Would she be dressed to impress him too?
Fuck. Mason wasn’t overly familiar with jealousy. If he wanted something, he worked his ass off to obtain it—industry awards, money, fame. The opposite sex had always fallen upon their knees before him. Except Sidney, she’d been more class than he was used to. And of course, now she was interested in his best friend—the cherry on top of this fucked-up cake.
He kept his gaze diverted, unable to meet her hazel eyes, in case he lost control of the biting remarks clambering up his throat. Telling her how great her clothes were going to look on Sean’s bedroom floor would initiate another fight he didn’t have the strength for.
“Thank you for dinner,” she murmured.
Stare straight ahead. Don’t look at her. Do not start a conversation. Then, maybe, you can get through the night without her trying to rip your throat out. “No problem.”
“Sean’s not here yet?” She pulled out a chair and sat down, leaving a space between them.
“Nope.” He raised his hand, examining the calluses on his palm. “He shouldn’t be too far away.”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence which, pissed him off. He wanted things back the way they were—their friendship, their attraction, the way they effortlessly worked together. Their current relationship was bullshit. Yeah, he loved seeing her riled, but not like this. Not with her friendly eyes glaring at him, or her face set in a constant scowl. She was beautiful. She was made to smile and share those gorgeous dimples with the world.
What he needed to do was set the record straight. To get the fucked-up misapprehensions out in the open and the weight of this mess off his shoulders. Only he couldn’t talk to her with Sean on his merry way to spoil the night.
Tomorrow, then.
He would take the high road, spill his guts and hope to hell there was something left to salvage in the aftermath. He couldn’t take another night of her resentment. And he sure as shit couldn’t spend one more day watching his friend drooling all over the woman Mason wanted.
His dogs began to scratch at the glass door, whining in an effort to gain attention. Traitorous mutts. They’d already grown attached to Sidney, following her whenever she walked from the pool house to the main mansion. He gave a derisive chuckle, still staring at his palm, and wondered how long it would take for them to stop whimpering once she left for good.
“Something funny?” Sidney murmured.
He snapped from his musings and glanced up at her. Wham. Her hazel irises knocked him right in the solar plexus. She was stunning, in the most casual way. Her dark hair, normally pulled back in a tight pony, was draped over one shoulder of her sexy leather jacket. The deep V-neckline of the tight cream top underneath showcased the tempting swell of her breasts. But it was those eyes, now outlined with dark, sultry make-up that took away his ability to think.
The vulnerability he’d begun to glimpse more often since she’d arrived was focused back at him, raw and heartbreaking. For a moment, he simply stared, letting her fragility sink under his skin. Each second was torturous, each flicker of her dark eyelashes making him bear the weight of responsibility for making her this way a little harder.
It was his fault. If he hadn’t taken the video, this never would’ve happened. There, he’d admitted it…at least to himself.
“Sidney, I—”
The buzz of the gate intercom cut him off. What made it worse was the relieved breath she released, knowing her knight in shining pickup was here to save her. Her chair scraped back, and she pushed to her feet, grabbing her purse like a lifeline. Without a word, she began walking down the hall, giving him one long, punishing view of her ass fitted into tight black jeans while her matching shiny stiletto boots tapped their way to the front door.
Kill me now.
He cursed a blue streak to the security panel beside his fridge, pressed the release on the front gate, then grabbed his cell, keys, and wallet off the bench. Tonight was going to be painful, yet staying home and imagining what type of moves Sean would put on Sidney wasn’t an option.
They’d ditched him at lunch and became a little too close on his picnic blanket. He wouldn’t give them the opportunity to be alone again. His career, his pride, and yeah, okay, maybe his heart, all depended on a positive outcome with this woman. He just had to hope alcohol would dull his senses enough to make it through the night.
And if that didn’t work, he hoped his bodyguard would hold him back from sucker punching Sean if he laid another hand on Sidney.
***
“TO OUR FAKE relationship,” Sean announced.
Sidney clinked her wine glass against the neck of his beer bottle and chuckled. He had a way with her, a natural ability to make her smile even when she was in the crappiest mood. “To our fake relationship.”
She shouldn’t be blasé about what they were doing. It was deception, after all. Problem was, she’d given up caring about anything as the first sip of wine hit the back of her tongue. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to tell Justin about her plans for the night. First time ever, she’d been ashamed of telling her best friend something…well, apart from the whole three-way thing. She knew how he’d react. He’d remind her about the
last time she was drunk around Mason and Sean. Then he’d slip into conversation all the times he’d had to save her ass because of a low tolerance to alcohol. Hey, Sid, do you remember that time you were so drunk you thought you were trapped in a public bathroom? All that hyperventilating because you kept pushing on a pull door. That is why you don’t drink without me.
He really was her savior. Not a drama had passed in the last two years where Justin hadn’t been there to catch her when she fell. He was determined to make her succeed again. His drive was one of the many things that kept her going. So informing him she was flushing all that down the toilet to try and get back at Mason would probably make him a little pissy.
But it didn’t change the fact Mason was still an ass, and she was punishing Sean with every second they spent nestled beside each other. It was time to say to hell with life and go with the alcoholic flow. Tonight was in Chardonnay’s hands.
Relaxing into the corner booth of the quiet bar, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. This place was nice. Quiet. With music memorabilia lining the walls, a band setting up in the far corner, and some of her favorite old-school music playing on the jukebox. Retro Pete’s was the perfect destination to step back into the world of the living, get crap-faced, and let her hair down.
God knew she needed the buzz. It took the edge off her frayed nerves and gave her the boost of confidence she’d desperately been searching for all day. The wait for nightfall had lasted an eternity. She hadn’t been able to get Mason out of her mind. No matter where she went, or what she did, his presence followed her everywhere. She should’ve listened to Justin and stayed in New York. At the very least, she should’ve caught the next plane home when her objective changed from her career to her heart. It was pitiful to cling to the hope of Mason’s jealousy. Problem was, she couldn’t turn it off.
When he’d brought dinner to her door and left without a word, she couldn’t fight the initial instinct to feel sorry for him. She’d grown up in a religious home, built on love and understanding, so the reaction was ingrained. Something she couldn’t control. Her weakness fueled the anger burning in her chest. Mason didn’t deserve her pity, and he had no right to play the wounded party. Sidney had earned that role.
She just needed to ignore her hormones and focus on the hurt he’d caused. Fate had brought her this far, intoxication should help finish the journey.
“Stop glaring,” Sean murmured, shuffling closer to her side. “You’re eyes are meant to be on me. Not him.”
Sidney refocused her gaze to the cheeky grin of the man beside her. “Sorry.” She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the lack of sleep, or the dark-grey shirt that made his dark-blue irises seem ten times brighter, but Sean looked mighty fine tonight. “I’m new to this. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.” She rubbed her hands together in preparation. Little Miss Inner Bitch was ready to roll.
Sean cocked a brow, the side of his lips tilting higher. “Sorry. You’re on your own, sweetheart. If I have to dictate actions, I’d have you straddling my lap quicker than you can take your next breath.”
Her cheeks heated, and she lowered her gaze at the hunger in his eyes. “Stop it.”
He leaned in, the warmth of his breath tickling the skin of her neck. “You know I’d take you home in a heartbeat. And I’d treasure you, Sid. I’d make you forget the past.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and wistfully made herself believe it could be that easy to wipe the slate clean. A gorgeous man to occupy her mind and her body might be all she needed. In a daze, she tilted her head toward him, breathing in his aftershave, stealing a little more of his attention to rebuild her tattered pride. His mouth brushed her cheek, the heat of his lips scorching her and ricocheting all the way through her chest. For the briefest second, she was catapulted back in time. She was at the height of her life, on cloud nine, only the affection making her body simmer came from a different Reckless Beat band member.
As his kiss drew closer to her mouth, she snapped from the daydream and pulled back with a wince. This wasn’t fair to Sean. This wasn’t fair to herself. And as her gaze drifted to Mason at the bar, his feral focus narrowed back on her, she realized jealousy would never be enough payback to make up for what he’d done.
“Sorry,” Sean muttered. “I got carried away.” He straightened, placing distance between them.
The heat faded from her chest, doused by regret. “No. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” She turned her gaze back to Sean. His pained expression haunted her, making her wish she could control her attraction. She didn’t want to hold a flame for Mason. She didn’t want to hold anything apart from seething hatred for him, but she had no control over her body’s reactions. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Relax.” He gave her knee a friendly squeeze under the table. “We’ll be fine. Have a few more drinks, and I’ll get you up on the dance floor to shake away your troubles. I bet you haven’t let your hair down in a while.”
No, she hadn’t. Socializing hadn’t been her forte for some time. “What about Mason?” Was it even possible for her to relax while he was around? He was still leaning against the bar, his potent gaze greeting her with ferocity whenever she looked his way. His bodyguard hovered a few feet behind him, raking his death stare over the salivating women in the building, all waiting for their opportunity with the famous rock star.
“Fuck Mason,” Sean growled. “Just ignore him.”
Sidney took a large gulp of wine, finishing the glass. Nobody should ever say those words to her. Her lascivious body took the statement literally, and all the rushing hormones she’d worked hours to control came rushing to the forefront.
She wanted him, god damn it. The arrogant way he leaned against the bar, the defiant rise of his brow, the seductive tilt of his lips. Chardonnay, what the fuckery?
“I need another drink.” Or did she? “Do you want anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Sean smiled at her, and she could’ve sobbed at the non-existent effect it had on her body. Senseless fucking hormones. Grabbing her purse, she slid from the booth, keeping her gaze diverted from the man set to destroy her. “I won’t be long.”
I’M GOING TO kill someone.
Mason had reached breaking point. He’d been optimistic when they entered the quiet bar and greeted his bodyguard. The usual ramped up security team were hovering in the corners, the staff extra bubbly with nervous smiles and widened eyes. Their arrival had been smooth. Then in the few minutes it took him to order drinks at the bar, he’d turned and found Sean and Sidney all over each other in the corner booth and his optimism shot to shit.
His idea to fix things with Sidney had reversed a motherfucking mile, and he’d stood rooted in place, trying to determine why the hell it annoyed him so much to see the two of them together. He shouldn’t care what either of them did. He’d get over his attraction eventually, as long as he regained his muse. Then again, glancing at her and noticing those deep dimples coming out to play for another guy made him livid.
He had no fucking clue what was going on. This was new to him—the indecisiveness, the envy. He’d been an emotional virgin before Sidney, and he wished he could backtrack and un-pop that cherry.
To avoid a murder charge, he’d kept his grumpy-ass at the bar and tried to convince himself to leave. Did he want to go home and spend the entire time thinking about what the two of them were doing? Hell no. But he didn’t want some punk recording the moment Mason lost his shit either.
“You got lady problems, Mace?”
Mason swiveled on his stool, turning his focus from the corner booth to his bodyguard sliding onto the stool beside him. “Is it that obvious?”
Jim’s face brightened with a crooked smile that didn’t fit in with the frown permanently etched into his forehead. “Kinda.” He raised a hand to the bartender, ordering another soda. “Want me to break Sean’s legs?”
Mason scoffed. “Unfortunately, if you broke his legs, he�
�d still be able to use his dick.” And that part of Sean’s anatomy was haunting Mason the most. He could still picture with vivid clarity, the way Sidney’s pale skin looked against Sean’s and the sound as she moaned from his touch. If the two of them went home together, Mason would be taking a fast trip down Shitfaced Alley.
“If it makes you feel any better, they both seem more interested in making sure you’re watching than enjoying each other.”
Mason scowled and gave an unconscious glance toward the corner booth. Again, they were huddled close, Sean grinning beside Sidney’s ear, her dimples deep and infuriating. “What do you mean?”
“When you’re ordering a drink, or looking the other way, they take a breather from the lovey-dovey crap. They reserve the touchy, feely shit for when they know they’ve got an audience.”
No fucking way. Were they playing him? He shook his head, denying the idea. There was no reason for it. Sidney hated him, and nobody knew the way he felt about her. Unless… “They’re trying to get back at me,” he murmured to himself.
“Seems like it.”
Fuckers. Sidney had always been a point of contention between him and Sean. No doubt they still shared an attraction born from the night of the Grammys. He just hadn’t expected either of them to rub it in his face. This had to be payback for Mason’s attitude toward her. Or retaliation for the mistakes he was supposed to have made years ago.
Two could play that game.
A smirk pulled at Mason’s lips as he stood and clapped his bodyguard on the shoulder. “Wanna do me a favor?”
“What do you need?”
“Fade into the background so the ladies know I’m free to chat. I’m suddenly feeling lonely.”
“You’re a manipulative prick.” Jim chuckled, moving to his feet. “Want me to send a few over? The women at the end of the bar have tried to get past me a few times.”