Undesired Lust

by Eden Summers

  “Mason, I’m not coming back,” her voice broke as she tried to melt into the car, placing distance between them physically and emotionally.

  “Then I’m not giving you your suitcase.” It was supposed to be a joke. A mere diversion to stop the grief from working its way under his skin. Sidney didn’t laugh. She stood there, shutting him out and making him feel like a sleaze. Clearly she wasn’t digging his proximity.

  He stepped back, letting the rejection hit home. “What the fuck happened while I was gone?” His gaze sought Sean across the tray, and he didn’t appreciate the grim expression staring back at him. Mason raised a brow, needing answers, needing a fucking clue to tell him what was going on. All he received in return was a subtle shake of the head and a mouthed “Let it go.”

  He couldn’t. “Did I miss something?”

  Another warning shake from Sean.

  “No, nothing has changed. Leaving is still the only option.” Sidney slid forward and gave him a quick hug. One of those lame pats on the back that spoke of unfamiliarity and bullshit. “Thanks for everything.”

  Thanks for everything? “Are you referring to the orgasms?” he snarled. “I don’t think I gave you much else.”

  “Mason,” she warned, finally meeting his gaze.

  If she was waiting for an apology, fingers crossed, she might miss her flight. Then again, he wasn’t a sadist. Maybe it was better if she took off now, before the building tightness in his lungs pushed him to say something he’d regret.

  “Let it go,” Sean muttered.

  Let what go? Sidney’s attitude? Or the fact he’d left them alone for less than an hour and already she’d quit talking to him. He took another step back, folding his hands over his chest as Sidney turned to open the passenger door of the pickup.

  It was the click. The small noise of the door releasing that ricocheted through his head like a gunshot. She was leaving him. On bad terms. Without a fucking care.

  “So, that’s it?” He threw his hands in the air. “We overcome all our shit, and you’re just going to leave? No ‘I’ll call you’ or ‘I can’t wait to see you again.’ You’re not coming back, not giving me an explanation, and I’m meant to be cool with that?”

  Sidney paused, one hand on the door, the other on the frame, poised to climb inside. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  “Me? You’re the one who won’t even look me in the eye.”

  Her hands slowly dropped to her sides, her shoulders losing their rigidity as she turned to face him. The slim line of her throat convulsed with a swallow, and then she stepped forward, bringing them toe to toe. Those gorgeous eyes were glassy, tugging at his heart while she blinked up at him, gently grabbing a fist full of his shirt.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, a lone tear falling down her cheek.

  He fought hard not to wipe the damp trail from her skin, to kiss away the hurt she was inflicting on them both.

  “For everything.” Another tear fell and another wave of sorrow punched his chest. “For telling me the truth. For proving I’ve never been wrong about the man you truly are, and for all the special moments in between.” She lowered her gaze, her forehead creasing in contained sadness. “Finding you again means the world to me.”

  “Then don’t leave.” The words growled from his throat. He was fucking pleading, but she wasn’t hearing him. Nothing penetrated her resilience.

  “Don’t waste your affection on me, Mason. I’m not strong enough to handle it right now.”

  Tightness overwhelmed his throat, stealing any chance of compromising with her. He stood frozen as she leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. The heat of her lips scorched a trail through his body, along every nerve, through every vein. His fingers itched to grab her, to pull her close and never let go, but in reality, she’d already left.

  The final blow came when she released her grip on his shirt, making him lose his tether to sanity. Every inch of distance she placed between them hit him with the force of a physical blow. She climbed into the pickup, without a backward glance, pulling the door shut with a definitive thud. He stared, entranced by the way she focused on the cement wall in front of the vehicle, ignoring him with such deliberate torture that he was robbed of breath.

  “Consider it a girlie moment,” Sean murmured. “She heard you in the kitchen. And now she’s shittin’ bricks.”

  Mason frowned, his gaze still trained on her as he spoke softly, his heart hammering in his throat. “What did I say in the kitchen?” He ran through the conversation in his mind, fast forwarding until the epiphany presented itself. “Shit.”

  “I found her in the hall,” Sean continued to lower his voice. “She was freaked. And I’m not just talking about a little nervous. She’s petrified, Mace. You need to let her go.”

  As if he had a choice. Mason met Sean’s concerned expression and fought against the self-deprecating sarcasm poised on the tip of his tongue. He no longer had the energy to make light of the situation. He was numb, past the point of satire.

  “You’ll get her back.” Sean moved around the bed of the pickup, coming to Mason’s side. “Once she’s in her own environment, and doesn’t have an asshole threatening her, she’ll sort herself out. Until then—” Sean put a comforting hand on Mason’s shoulder, then clenched his other fist.

  Mason didn’t have time to move, not even the chance to pivot as Sean launched his knuckles into Mason’s stomach. Pain exploded in his gut, making him buckle. He sucked in breath after breath, coughing up a lung, and trying not to vomit all at the same time. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  Again, Sean patted him on the shoulder. “The physical pain will take your mind off it.”

  “Thanks,” Mason croaked, stumbling back against his SUV. Sean was right, the need to breathe, and the battle to control his nausea had claimed his thoughts. But the douchebag knew the pain would subside soon enough.

  “Don’t thank me.” Sean strode around the pickup to the driver’s side door, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Now we’re even for the last two years. Onward and upward, motherfucker.”

  SIDNEY RAN—FROM her troubles, her aspirations, and any chance of happiness, straight onto the Reckless Beat jet. The flight was quiet, with Sean thankfully leaving her alone to ponder her future. Once they landed, she caught a cab straight to her Manhattan office. She’d needed to see Justin, to rush into his arms and have him hug away the anxiety. And that’s exactly what he’d done as soon as she walked through the door.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” he murmured into her neck.

  “Me too.” Drama-free existence, here I come, but first… “I have so much to tell you.” She stepped back, eyeing him head to toe, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t in his usual work attire. “You look…casual.” He was dressed in dark jeans and a loose green T-shirt, far from the suit and tie he usually wore.

  He frowned at her, the annoyance she’d grown used to lately settling into his dark-blue eyes. “I hadn’t planned on coming into the office today until you called last night. I was going to work from home.”

  “Why?”

  He clenched his jaw, the happiness at seeing her vanishing under barely contained anger. “I didn’t want to be seen working here. It’s humiliating. You rush off to Richmond with stars in your eyes, and I’m left to pick up the pieces.”

  Sidney took a step back, shocked that the sympathy she’d once relied on was gone. There was no comfort in his gaze. He hadn’t even asked to hear her side of the story. “I don’t want to argue about this with you. Mason isn’t the man you thought he was.”

  “Oh, I know who he is, Sid. I’ve always known. You’re the one who keeps getting sidetracked by lust.”

  She fumbled back another step, reaching for the extended handle of her suitcase for support. She’d come straight from the airport to her office with the solitary intent of gaining understanding from the one person she could rely on. She’d banked on Justin making her feel better, yet he was havin
g the opposite effect. “Why are you being such an ass?”

  He scoffed. “I’ve spent two years trying to rebuild your reputation, only to have you fuck it up again. Christ, look at it from my point of view for once.”

  “OK,” she murmured, wheeling her suitcase to the office entry. His irritation was pushing her further into the darkness. If she didn’t have Justin to rely on, she had nothing. Nobody. “Sorry to ruin your plans.”

  She made it to the door, ignoring the throb of loneliness pummeling her heart.

  “Don’t be so defensive. I’m glad you’re back.” Justin strolled to his desk and slumped into his chair. “I’m just tired. I haven’t slept in days.”

  Yeah, well, so was she. She was beyond exhausted, and all she’d needed was a little support. She wanted to tell him about Mason. How she’d regained the man she once fell for. The misconceptions. The fun they shared. But she now realized he’d never forgive Mason. There would always be a broken bridge between her best friend and the man who had her heart.

  “Go home, Justin. I think we both need some time off.” Without a good-bye, she walked out the door, and started running from her problems again.

  She made it to her apartment, dumped her suitcase in the hall, and headed straight for the laptop. Over the weekend, she ignored the latest gossip about her and Mason. Today, she was a sadist, reading every article she could find. It was a cathartic way to open old wounds and release everything she held inside.

  She spent hours scrolling through page upon page of inaccurate information. Each lie was a blow to her already non-existent self-esteem—she was dating both Mason and Sean, she was seducing the world-famous singer to reignite her career, the threats were a publicity stunt to thrust her name back into the limelight.

  She laughed. She screamed. She even threw her television remote and dinted the plaster of her living room wall. All of it was bullshit, and all of it stung. Without Justin, she was left alone to face the reality of what the world thought of her. The constant barrage of negative opinions made her angry and bitter. Resentment over every decision she made in the last two years built inside her until she couldn’t take the pain. All she could do was run.

  She pulled on a pair of sneakers, an old tank, some shorts, and sprinted away from her mistakes. With tears burning her eyes, she rushed around sidewalk pedestrians, her sights set on Central Park. As people chatted and mingled, Sidney was fleeing, hoping she could outrun the ache tightening her lungs.

  She ran until her feet were sore and her stomach protested in hunger. She ran until daylight turned to dusk and she had no idea where she was. She ran until her legs refused to move, and even then, with her body screaming from exertion, her problems were still there. Hovering. Threatening to take over.

  On the corner of a nameless street, she broke down—crying, sobbing, stumbling toward her apartment in a mess of uncontained emotions. And for what? It didn’t fix her problems. It didn’t ease the pain. The sole achievement she gained was looking like a fucking lunatic in a city of crazy people.

  She needed to stop relying on Justin to pull her back together. Not because he was currently angry for her decisions, or didn’t agree with her choices, but because she was a god damn grown woman. She hated who she’d become. At the first sign of trouble from the sex scandal, her controlled life had crumpled, and rather than fighting for what she achieved, she hid.

  It was pathetic.

  She was pathetic.

  She couldn’t even let herself be happy. She didn’t know how anymore. Mason was her chance to start over. His love was a gift, and she was too freaking scared to take it. She hated who she’d become. She no longer recognized herself, and wouldn’t stand to live this way anymore. Something had to change. Right now.

  After dragging her sorry ass home, she showered, dressed and decided to cleanse her life of the stupidity. From her diet, to her wardrobe, to her lack of confidence, one by one, she would scrub away the useless woman staring back at her in the mirror.

  Every part of her needed to be restored to its former glory, especially her attitude. Unless she changed her bullshit frame of mind, she would never find happiness. It wouldn’t be easy. There was a lot of work to do, and a trip or two to the shrink wouldn’t be a bad idea. It was either sink or swim, and she was sick of being poised on the brink of drowning.

  Mason was the last glimpse of happiness she would ever let slip through her fingers. She was going to reclaim her life, and the strength to be able to hold her head high, no matter what drama came her way. Who knew, maybe if she found herself in time, Mason may still be waiting. But for now, her priority was herself, and she didn’t want anyone or anything clouding her judgment in her efforts to move forward.

  ***

  MASON SIPPED HIS beer and yet again drifted into thoughts of Sidney. It had been three years since he’d spoken to her. Three long fucking years…well, realistically it had been fifteen days, yet those agonizing hours had felt like an entire life cycle. He worried for her safety with every passing second. He grew annoyed with the increasing ache in his chest, and no matter how hard he worked, or how many laps he swam, he couldn’t catch a break from the image of her face in his mind.

  “I’m fucking exhausted.” Blake slumped into the deck chair to Mason’s left and groaned. “You’re one Nazi motherfucker.”

  Mason rolled his eyes, not bothering to comment. They sat in a row—his sister, Mason, Blake, Ryan, Sean, and Mitch—all staring silently at the sun fading below his back stone wall. Even his somewhat-loyal companions lay at his feet. After Sidney flew home to New York, Mason became a hermit, sequestering himself in his studio to scribble lyrics day and night. The words were fluid, his hand cramping at times as he struggled to keep up with his muse.

  Even though Sidney was no longer here, she’d revived his creativity. He’d become a fully functioning artist again, and he would be forever grateful. But it wasn’t enough. Without her by his side, there was no sense of accomplishment. He may have his muse, but he still hadn’t regained his balls. His manhood had left along with the woman he cared for, and he wasn’t entirely sure he would get it back.

  All his lyrics had been about love. Every chorus revolving around one particular female. The rest of the band hadn’t commented on the subject matter of the songs; he knew they were aware, though. He’d heard the assholes sniggering.

  For days, the five of them worked endlessly, sleeping little and barely functioning above the need to create accompanying music to complement his Sidney obsession. When they did crash in the early hours of each morning, Mason took to the Internet to distract himself. Unfortunately, even online shopping didn’t rid his thoughts of the little wildcat.

  More than once, he’d placed an online order for her. Either a scarf to match her eyes, or a pair of boots to replace the ones he’d taken swimming. The fact she hadn’t called to thank him spoke louder than a blow horn. She was moving on without him, and he’d be stuck in castration mode until they caught up again.

  “Go hard or go home,” Mason murmured.

  “Is that what happened with Sidney?” Mitch chuckled. “You couldn’t get hard, so she went home?”

  Silence fell, a chair scraped, and then someone cleared their throat. Over the previous days, Sean and Mason had filled Ryan, Blake, and Mitch in on the reality of the sex scandal. Start to painful finish. There had been a lot of cursing, and even more questions left to answer, yet the five of them had reconnected over the truth.

  “Well, this is awkward,” his sister muttered. “Why are you so gloomy? You have the makings of a great album.”

  Because I miss her. “None of your damn business.” He chugged his beer and ignored the way Toni jerked back at his tone. Now that the major part of the album had come together, he didn’t have the necessary drive to occupy his thoughts. And beer definitely didn’t help. The alcohol only endeavored to make his forming vagina more evident. He was sure he was losing more of his testosterone every time he thought of his kitten. />
  “Bipolar much?” Toni grated.

  “I’m depressed, OK?” He yanked the beer bottle to his lips, already regretting the announcement. Just back it up with a joke and they’ll forget all about it. “I want to crawl into a dark room and listen to Bieber.”

  Toni’s face scrunched in disgust. “Why? Do you actually think his music will help?”

  “God, no.” He cringed. “I’m entirely certain he’ll give me the motivation to end my suffering.”

  She scoffed. “Always so dramatic, big brother.”

  “Always so annoying, little sister.” He loved Toni to death, he just wished they didn’t revert to their teenage ways whenever she came over. If he could still get away with pulling her hair and spitting in her breakfast, he was pretty sure he would do it.

  “If you like her, why are you still here?” Mitch asked. “Go to New York and figure your shit out.”

  “Or, let her go, and move on,” Ryan drawled. “Love isn’t always enough.”

  More silence. Ryan wasn’t the fun-loving guy he used to be. His wife, Julie, was slowly killing him, sucking the happiness out of his life. “I don’t mean to be a downer,” he added. “But realistically, our career choice doesn’t make for a happily ever after.”

  “I disagree.” Blake stood, turning his back to the sunset and fixing Mason with a humorless stare. “If you feel that strongly about her, fight. Don’t let her run.”

  “Yeah, and watch as she sprints away with your soul,” Ryan muttered.

  “Look, bro,” Blake began to snarl, “just because your wife is being a fucking bitch, doesn’t mean the world has ended. Dust that shit off and start over.”

  “Dust that shit off?” Ryan asked, scraping his chair as he shoved to his feet. He waved the neck of his beer bottle in Blake’s direction, his eyes narrowing. “I’d like to hear you repeat that when you’ve spent more than a few seconds loving the same woman. You don’t know dick about marriage. So don’t preach to me.”

  Blake held up his hands. “I’m just sayin—”