by Eden Summers
“No. Not here!” She shook her head, as if shaking away a daydream. “You need to go back to the house.” She shooed him away. “Go.”
He sidestepped, dropping the freezing material of his shirt back onto his stomach while he blocked her from leaving the bathroom. A shiver wracked his limbs, and no amount of warm thoughts made the biting cold cease. “I’ll go…after you listen to what I have to say.”
She whimpered in defeat, her gaze slowly rising to meet his as her shoulders slumped. “We’ve been over this. I don’t want to relive—”
“Don’t you want to know why I never answered your calls?” The time for angry banter was over. As much as he enjoyed knowing she still held onto the past, he could no longer suffer under the bite of loathing in her eyes. He finally wanted to see her looking at him in something other than disdain.
“Mason,” she pleaded. “It’s too late. I’m exhausted. And I’m ready to move on. Being here has given me closure. I’ve realized you weren’t the guy I thought you were. You never cared, and that’s OK.” She shrugged. “It’s kinda freeing. I can get on with my life.”
The hell she could. “You might be ready.” He leaned into her, narrowing his gaze so they were eye to eye. “But I’m not. After all this time, I deserve to be heard.”
“You deserve it?” She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure you don’t deserve a damn thing from me. I could’ve sued you. I could’ve taken you to court and demanded a whole big chunk of your money for what you put me through. Instead, I hid. I was too damn ashamed to even leave my apartment. So, in my mind, I don’t owe you dick.”
He ground his teeth together, battling the urge to release a verbal barrage of anger-filled truth. “Well, it’s your choice.” He spread his arms wide, his clothes sloshing as they fell back to his sides. He wasn’t going to get on his knees and grovel; walking to her front door had been hard enough.
Emotions washed across her face as she scrutinized him in the silence—defiance, anguish, then finally acquiescence. He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding. If she knew how monumental this moment was for him. He was stripped bare, every nerve exposed and raw.
“Go on, then.” She broke eye contact, focusing over his shoulder to the living room.
He stared at her, seeing a different woman from the one he met years ago. Back then, she’d been bubbly, entirely professional within the recording studio, yet eager to laugh and joke around once the work day finished. He missed that woman, the one who hadn’t been tainted by the same industry that left his chest frigid.
“All this time, I’ve taken the fall for something that wasn’t my fault.” His lips began to tremble, his freezing clothes making his body turn to ice. He raised his chin, ignoring the cautionary thump behind his breastbone telling him he needed to get warm ASAP or risk losing a favored body part. “The reason I didn’t answer your calls after the video was uploaded was because I couldn’t. Literally. My Manhattan apartment had been broken into.”
Her head tilted a fraction, her gaze turning to meet his, questioning. Her lips were set in a thin line, but he had her attention. At the very least, she was listening.
“They stole my cell.”
He held his breath. He didn’t want a reprieve from taking the recording, he only needed the blame for the things he didn’t do taken off his shoulders. “That night meant everything to me, Sid. There’s no way I would’ve shared that with anyone. Whoever took my phone did.” He raked his numb fingers through his hair. “For two years, I’ve taken the blame for a seriously fucked-up situation that you, Sean, and the rest of the world thought I created. All because nobody took the time to ask me what went down. Not my best friend. Not my manager. And not you.” The woman I cared about.
“I didn’t take the time to ask?” Her voice rose as her eyes widened. “I called you. Constantly. I would’ve given anything to hear this explanation two years ago.”
“Yeah, and like I said, I didn’t have a cell to answer. I didn’t want to use the concierge phone because I didn’t trust that the line wasn’t monitored. And none of my friends were talking to me. After Sean and Leah’s initial friendly visit, nobody came to see me for days.” His blood lost the tepid chill as remembered anger heated his blood. “I had to hide out in my apartment until the paparazzi backed off enough to let me escape to buy a new phone. By then, you wouldn’t take my calls.”
“What?” Her skin paled. “You never called my cell. You never called my home. Not even my office.”
“I didn’t call your cell because I had no one to give me the private number. The same with your house. I lost all my contacts when the asshole stole my phone.” Mason clenched his stomach muscles to fight another shiver. “I ended up getting your office number off the Internet. And that protective assistant of yours would’ve had a repetitive strain injury from the amount of times he hung up on me.”
A deep frown marred her beautiful skin. She shook her head, her lips working around silent words.
“I tried to get in contact with you,” he murmured. “I tried to let you know it wasn’t my fault.”
“For how long?” Her eyes pleaded. “It’s been two years. Why couldn’t you have told me this earlier? And why live up to the so-called lies in front of the cameras? You told the world it was a promotional stunt, why should I believe you now?”
“Bullshit. Among other questions, I was asked numerous times why I shared the video. I never, ever said that I had. My reply was always vague, and yeah maybe a little smug, but I was fucking pissed off at the constant assumptions. At that point, I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Not once in two years have I ever stated I was responsible. I let everyone believe whatever the hell they wanted to believe. The gossip columns took an idea, and the rest of the population ran with it, including all the people I trusted. I wasn’t going to plead my case to a world who thought I was capable of something this fucked up.”
Her brow was furrowed, her ruby lips plumped together in thought. Please, kitten, believe me now.
“Then why didn’t Sean tell me?” she whispered.
He raised his chin, ignoring the way his shoulders shuddered of their own accord. “Sean doesn’t know.”
“What?” Her gaze snapped to his, pinning him with a stare colder than his sodden clothes. “How could he not know? He’s your best friend.”
“He’s a lot of things.” And that was all he was willing to discuss right now. He was done. The truth was out, and she could do whatever she wanted with the information. He had to get out of these freezing clothes before his dick fell off.
“I don’t expect forgiveness.” He turned his back on her, unable to take the pain in her eyes, and walked from the room. “Just realize you weren’t the only one hurt by this mess. I was judged for something I didn’t do, and although I still have my career, I was alone just like you were.”
No matter how much the thud of his chest demanded, he didn’t look back. He left her standing in the bathroom, and tried not to care when she didn’t follow him. There was a lot to digest, and it was her turn to decide where they went from here. He’d suffered enough. If she left, so be it. He was done chasing her. His muse be damned.
“TWO YEARS.”
Sidney stood staring at the closed front door of the pool house, her body numb as she repeated the same words over and over again. She was in shock, sickened by the news, and more than anything, she felt alone. Only she couldn’t leave. There were too many questions. So many more than she’d had yesterday.
All this time, she’d lived with the thought of Mason uploading their private video as a publicity stunt. Now, she wasn’t sure if she was glad to know the truth, or if life would be easier if she’d remained clueless. Her insides felt like the scandal had started anew. Everything was fresh, her scars reopened, the pain brutal.
She needed Justin. He would fix this for her. He’d break it down, rationalize it, and talk it through with her until she could get her mind around i
t. But it was the middle of the night, and she didn’t want to wake him. Explaining tonight would also mean another I-told-you-so, and she didn’t have the strength to hear that twice in two days. Shuffling to the sofa, she fell into the cushions in a huff, pulling her knees to her chest to hug herself. She focused straight ahead on the unadorned soft peach walls, seeing Mason’s face staring back at her. She didn’t need to question his sincerity. It was time to trust the instinct which had plagued her for years, and realize he hadn’t intentionally hurt her.
But…Why? Why the lies? Why wait this long? Why now? Christ. She couldn’t stop the churning in her mind. The harsh buzz of radio static filled her skull to the point of pain, and her head began to throb.
She rocked herself for hours, trying to sort together a puzzle she didn’t have all the pieces to. Every moment had her itching to race to the main house. She wanted to see him, without the ego, without the lies.
Eventually, night turned into early morning with loneliness and guilt keeping her company through the passing hours. Sometime before dawn, she grew desperate for something to douse the heartache. She pulled herself off the sofa and opened the pool house door, quietly whistling to Mason’s dogs to come inside. Yet, they never came running. Like a sign from the heavens, nobody wanted to be around her—not her parents, not her best friend, not Mason, or the canines who’d eagerly followed her around since arriving here.
She wasn’t sure when sleep dragged her under, but when she awoke the brightness of sunrise was peeking through the curtains. The few hours rest had brought little clarity. Sidney knew what she wanted, though—not to feel alone anymore. She couldn’t remain detached from the world. Moving forward seemed impossible when everything in her life was ruined. She needed answers, and Mason was the only one who could give them to her.
Dragging herself off the sofa, she finger combed her hair and quickly brushed her teeth to get rid of the fur. Still dressed in the jeans and now-crushed blouse she put on after last night’s shower, she grabbed her cell off the counter and left the pool house.
As she pulled the front door closed behind her, she unlocked her phone screen to check for any missed calls and wasn’t surprised to find none. Nobody contacted her anymore. The demand for her services had vanished. All she had awaiting for her were three new emails.
Stalking to the main house, she clicked open the software application and paused mid stride at the familiar sender of the first message. X—the same person who emailed her images from last night.
Subject: Stupid bitch.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled as she clicked the message line.
I guess you’re not hearing me. Or you’re second guessing what I’m capable of.
I’ve uploaded a depraved video of you once before. I’m not afraid to do something similar to prove my point.
Stay away from Mason.
She placed a shaky hand over her mouth, not that it helped to stop the gasp she sucked deep into her lungs. She scrolled down to the six images attached, her stomach churning with nausea. Against her better judgment, she clicked on the first file and rushed to the pool gate while it downloaded. When the photograph opened, she stopped, speechless, breathless, as an image of her and Mason in the pool last night stared back at her.
“Oh, god.”
She broke into a run.
***
MASON WOKE TO the harsh vibration of his cell on the bedside table. Fuck. He’d forgotten to turn it off. With a groan, he stretched to pick it up. Whoever was calling had a death wish. Especially when he’d planned on sleeping through the entire day. He was tired and already in a shitty mood. Most of all, he didn’t want to confirm his suspicion that Sidney had left during the night and gone home to New York.
The caller I.D. cemented the epic shittiness of his morning. “Leah. This better be good.”
“What the hell is going on over there?”
He sat up, familiar with the panic etched in her tone. Sidney must have ratted him out. “Nothing. Why?” Slight under exaggeration.
“You’re all over the Internet tabloids again.”
“What?” He flung the covers back and then grabbed his sweatpants off the floor, yanking them on one-handed. “What the hell for?”
“There’s pictures of you and Sidney. The whole write-up highlights your past, along with the infamous video, and then goes on to say the two of you are rekindling an old flame.”
“Motherfucker.” He slumped back onto the bed, his fingers massaging his forehead to ward off the forming headache. “We may have had a slight verbal disagreement in a public parking lot last night. Nothing major. Not long after, Sidney was emailed an image with the instruction to stay away from me. I think it was one of the women I was chatting up at the bar. She must have forwarded it to the tabloids.”
He clenched his fist around his cell and stood. If Sidney was still here, he needed to prepare her. He also needed to assure her he had nothing to do with the new publicity.
“Mace, this wasn’t taken in a parking lot. The picture is of you and Sidney in your pool. Whoever took it was on your property.”
“Someone was here?” He rushed toward his bedroom door, the blood draining from his face.
“I don’t know. It isn’t a close-up view. They could’ve scaled your wall and taken it without actually stepping foot inside.”
He strode down the hall, focusing on clearing his mind from the potential threat to Sidney. His security was tight—sensor lights, alarm system, panic buttons. But the pool house hadn’t been a focal point. Apart from his dogs and the locks on the door and windows, the place where Sidney had slept was easily accessible. Not to mention, he’d left the glass doors in the dining area of the main house unlocked, so she could come and go as she pleased.
“How bad are we talking, Leah?” He broke into a jog, racing shirtless down the shadowed hall.
“The photo itself isn’t lurid or distasteful. It’s the accompanying articles that are causing fan hype. Apparently, the three of you rekindled some sort of romance last night.”
“Fuck!” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when he’d finally told her the misconceptions of the past. This was going to fling them right back to where they were two years ago. “Where did the image come from?” He was going to pay the fucker a less than friendly social visit. At the very least, he’d humiliate the asshole until they had a proper understanding of how constant public scrutiny could ruin a life.
“Undisclosed source,” Leah grated. “At the moment, I haven’t been able to find information on who submitted the picture. But I did a little snooping and found an article published on a small, relatively unknown gossip website the night Sidney arrived. Scandal must be running low in Richmond, ‘cause it looks like they’re gunning for you. If they’re trying to create something out of nothing to gain exposure, you might have a problem on your hands.”
“Typical.” He ran past the kitchen doorway, puffing more from panic than exertion. “I’ve gotta find Sidney. I’ll call you later.” He disconnected the call, sliding his cell over the kitchen counter before stopping dead.
“Sidney,” he murmured.
She was there, in all her agonizing fragility. Her face was pale, her eyes distraught as she rushed inside and pulled the glass door closed behind her. She met his gaze and straightened. Her chest heaved from her shallow breaths, her throat bobbing with a rough swallow.
“Are you OK?” Slowly, he moved toward her, dying under the need to pull her into his arms. He was clueless to how she was going to greet him after last night—tempting wildcat or delicious kitten.
She gave a jerky nod, but her eyes spoke otherwise. “I got another email.”
The fear in her voice broke him, shattering his soul. He strode to her with open arms, no longer fearing her rejection. She could push him away if she liked, he’d remain strong, holding her until she lost the will to fight.
When she shuffled toward him, he almost moaned in relief, squ
eezing her to his chest like a fucking lifeline. He hugged her tight, momentarily forgetting the threat of stalkers and social media assholes so he could enjoy the way she clung to him.
“There was another email,” she whispered against his chest. “With more pictures.”
He nodded, closing his eyes to the floral scent of her hair. “I know, kitten.”
Gently, she pushed back from his chest, her gaze narrowed in question. He’d swear on the Bible she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Even now, with her skin pale and cheeks flushed, he couldn’t help the dirty path his thoughts gyrated down.
“Leah called.” The reminder was like a bucket of ice on his balls. They’d already suffered through a highly publicized sex scandal. They shouldn’t have to go through the same shit again. At least he could be the one to tell her this time. There was no room for misconceptions when he was by her side. “It’s all over the Internet.”
Her mouth opened, the sultry lower lip quavering slightly. He expected her to break, to crumple in a mass of feminine emotions. Instead, she sucked in a breath, nodded, and reclaimed some composure in those glassy hazel irises.
“It’s the same person.” She stepped out of his reach and pulled her cell out of her pocket.
“From last night? Yeah, I gathered. One of the women from the bar must have followed us home.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shielding herself as her focus seeped under his skin. “The same person who shared the video of us.”
“What do you mean?” He frowned, trying to understand, trying not to lose his shit. “The person who stole my cell broke into my New York apartment, not this place.”
“They told me in the email.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb nervously over her phone screen, no longer meeting his gaze.