Mason pulls away, just enough to spare me his erection. It’s almost as if he heard my silent plea. He stares into my eyes, forcing the anxiety back down into the pit of my belly where it always lurks, waiting to rear its ugly head.
His arms gently caress mine and he smiles. Not a full-blown face-cracking smile. A soft, alluring, intoxicating smile that curves up one side of his mouth more than the other. I find myself staring at his lips once again as they part when he asks, “Are you moving to New York yet?”
I let out a sigh of relief. A laugh of comfortable friendship. A smile of . . . happiness? “Not hardly,” I reply.
He kisses me on the top of my head and turns to leave. Just as he reaches the door, he spins around. “Just so you know, I’m not moving to New York either. But it’s not out of the realm of possibility. I really, really like New York.”
My eyes narrow as I allow his words to sink in.
He winks at me and then disappears through the front door.
chapter eighteen
mason
I sit on a blanket and watch Piper with Hailey as they kick a soccer ball between them in the park. Well, as much as a twenty-two-month-old can kick a ball. But I think she’s getting the hang of it. ‘Uncle’ Gavin has made sure of that, being he was a soccer star during his years at UNC.
Piper seems to be getting more relaxed around her as the afternoon wears on. At first, when we were eating lunch—a fabulous spread courtesy of Skylar and Mitchell’s—Piper didn’t even make eye contact with Hailey. I was worried. No, terrified was more like it. These two girls are the most important people in my life and if they don’t get along there isn’t even a choice in the matter.
But now, after I intentionally stepped away, pretending to get a call from my agent, I dare to hope that maybe there is a chance at this after all. Piper’s demeanor is guarded and a bit forced, but at least I see potential there. And I won’t give up. I won’t give up until the fat lady sings and does the damn hula in her thatched skirt and coconut bra.
I haven’t taken the easy road in love, that’s for sure. Figuring out Piper Mitchell is like trying to do one of those Chinese puzzles. Just when I think I’m getting somewhere, I wind up back at square one.
I lost a lot of sleep last night thinking about her. We have a connection. A deep undeniable bond I’ve never felt with another woman. I hesitate to even use the word soul mate because it makes me sound like a pussy-whipped lap dog, but damn it if that’s not exactly how I feel.
I’ve analyzed every look and every conversation, much like how I study and scrutinize game film at practice. I’ve tried to dissect every anxiety attack. She came close to having one last night. That kiss, it was—shit, it was better than all the sex I’ve had rolled together in one big package. That kiss was epic. If I wasn’t already falling for her, that kiss was reason alone to.
She kissed me back which was somewhat unexpected. When our eyes met, there was a clear hesitation. I could almost hear the wheels in her head spinning—deciding to choose door number one or door number two. In the end, she not only chose the right door, she fucking decimated it, burning it to the ground with the heat that exploded between us. And the sound that came from her when I kissed her neck, that fantasy-provoking mewling sound will stay with me far beyond the six weeks I have left with her.
That heat, however, was almost instantly squelched like a flame deprived of oxygen the instant I pressed into her and she felt my hard-on. I knew immediately. I could feel the panic rising in her as much as if it was my own. I knew I had to stop or I could push her past her breaking point. And breaking Piper would wreck me.
But then something happened when she was on the brink of anxiety pulling her under. She looked at me. Hell, she looked into me. And I swear I could see the wave of calm wash over her beautiful face. It wasn’t unlike what happened before in the parking garage and at the marathon. Somehow, when our eyes connect, her panic wanes. I’m not conceited enough to think I can fix her and remove all the demons in her life, but maybe I’m the one who can make her realize life is worth living after whatever happened to her.
Hailey runs over and jumps on my back, knocking me forward onto the grass. I pull her around to my front, pinning her on the ground so I can tickle her pint-sized ribs. Her sweet, childish laughter seems to echo through the park.
This is living.
I look down at my scar and give thanks to Coach Braden for saving me. I look up at the clear-blue sky and hope my parents can see their spectacular granddaughter. I look over at Piper to see her studying my interaction with Hailey. I could swear her eyes get misty, but as soon as she catches me watching her, she clears her throat and starts kicking around at the ball abandoned by her feet.
What was that look? I can normally read her easily. Like an old favorite book. When it comes to how she reacts to me, she’s completely transparent. I know she has feelings for me. Feelings that run far deeper than she wants to admit. But when it comes to Hailey . . . well, it’s like that Chinese puzzle.
My daughter rubs her eyes, my clue that the day has taken its toll. I pick stray pieces of grass from her platinum-blonde curls and then look at my watch. My heart sinks. It’s almost time for Cassidy to pick her up. The days I’m with her fly by in an instant, the hours are like minutes and the seconds tick away painfully fast.
I gather up our things. “Time to go, sweet pea.”
I swing the backpack on one shoulder and Hailey up on another. “Ready?” I ask Piper.
She nods, picking up the soccer ball before we make our way through the park and out to the subway.
The whole way, Hailey points out and counts every bird she sees, making meaningful adult conversation almost impossible. Then she starts humming her favorite Disney song. “Sing, Dada,” she begs. I can’t deny her request, so I pull out my phone and tap on the screen, finding the song to accompany me.
Few things embarrass me. Singing a girly princess song in front of the woman I’m trying to impress is definitely one of them.
When we make it to the platform, I take a moment to admire Piper. Her hair is windblown and her skin slightly pink from the strong afternoon sun. I realize I don’t want the day to end. And I’d really like some alone time with her. “Come back to my place,” I say, hopefully.
Her eyes flicker between Hailey and me. “Won’t Hailey’s mom be there soon?”
“Don’t worry about Cassidy. I’d really like you to come with us. There’s something I’d like to show you.”
The number five train to Skylar’s place pulls up alongside us and the doors open. She looks at me. We stare silently at each other until the train pulls away, leaving her standing beside me. She smiles. “I suppose I could come over for a few minutes.”
Hailey smacks my face with her little hands. I guess I’ve been giving too much attention to Piper for the last thirty seconds. Piper laughs as Hailey plies and prods my cheeks as if my face were made of clay. It’s the first laughter I’ve heard from her since last night. And for what feels like the first time today—I breathe.
~ ~ ~
“What’s she doing here?”
Cassidy’s stinging words slice through the thick, tense air of the hallway outside my apartment.
“You’re early, Cass.” I give Piper an apologetic glance.
“Mama!” Hailey squeals at the sight of her mother, squirming out of my arms so she can run over to her.
Cassidy all but ignores our daughter’s embrace as she fires daggers from her eyes at Piper while I unlock the door.
“I’ll just get Hailey’s things.” I move aside to let them all in. I drop my keys on the entry table before turning to Piper. “You can freshen up in the bathroom if you want.” I point to the door next to my bedroom. “It’s right through there.”
Relief is apparent on her every feature as she scurries away without a word. But it only lasts a moment.
“Pie-pie,” Hailey wails, running after her, giving her legs a hug from behind.
> I glance at Cassidy. I can practically see the smoke coming from her ears. Her hands ball into fists before she marches over to Hailey, ripping her away from the endearing grip she has on Piper’s leg.
It’s hard to hold in my smile. Hailey has just given Piper her seal of approval. Something she doesn’t dole out to just anyone. More must have been going on at the park than I realized. Or maybe Hailey senses the same enchanting qualities in Piper that I do.
A fleeting look of terror crosses Piper’s face. Damn. What was I thinking bringing her here and forcing a confrontation like this? I obviously wasn’t thinking with my head. Another part of my anatomy maybe, but definitely not my head.
Piper smiles compassionately at Hailey as she’s dragged across the room by her mother. “It was very nice seeing you again, Hailey. Thanks for playing soccer with me.”
She turns to Cass. “Cassidy, always a pleasure.” She spins around and walks through the bathroom door, shutting it and leaving buckets of sarcasm in her wake.
Cassidy gathers up her things. Hailey knows the drill by now. The older she gets, the harder it is for her to leave without tears. I won’t deny that I’ve shed a few of my own the times she reaches for me, begging to stay.
As if adding fuel to the fire that is my heightened emotional state, Hailey runs over to me and holds up her hands, big balls of tears balancing on her lower lids for a second before spilling over and trailing down her little round cheeks. “Dada!”
Cassidy watches us as we hug, neither of us wanting to part. “You know, if we just lived together, you’d see her all the time and she would never have to be this sad when we leave. She’ll cry herself to sleep tonight. She always does the days she leaves you.”
A piece of my heart breaks off. Just like each time my daughter leaves. I’m not sure if what Cassidy says is true, but the thought of it tears me up.
“Time to go, sweetie,” Cassidy says, pulling her from my arms.
From behind me, I hear the door to the bathroom creak as Piper is either opening it to see if the coast is clear, or to listen.
Right on cue, Cassidy leans towards me, placing an unwelcome kiss on my lips faster than I can stop her.
chapter nineteen
piper
The front door slams shut behind Hailey and her mom, leaving the air rich with tension and discomfort. I walk over to it and grip the handle, turning it quickly, pulling the heavy steel door towards me.
Mason races over and puts his palms by either side of my head on the door, forcing it closed. “Where are you going?”
“Is that what you wanted to show me?” I hit the door with my open palm. “That you’re getting back together with your ex-wife?”
He sighs so long and hard I can feel the back of my hair part under his heavy breath. “She’s not my ex-wife.”
“Girlfriend. Whatever.” I stare at the blue steel door just inches from my face. “You could have just told me.”
“I’m not getting back together with her, Piper. I told you that already. I’ll never get back with her. She’s a manipulative shrew.”
“But you kissed her. Is that you not getting back together?”
“You’re wrong.” His hands lower, caging me in place. “I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. Just another one of her spiteful tactics. She’s threatened by you. I haven’t had a woman in my life in a long, long time.”
“Hmph,” I pout through my closed mouth. “It sure looked like you were kissing her.”
“I was not kissing her. God, you are so stubborn, woman.” He puts a hand on my arm and I tense. He immediately removes it, placing it back in its previous spot. “She surprised me. I was saying goodbye to Hailey, and before I knew what was happening, she swooped in like the predator she is.”
I shake my head, not knowing what to believe. Cassidy is everything I’m not. She’s extraordinarily beautiful, walking-the-catwalk-in-Milan beautiful. And although her breasts aren’t real, even I think they’re spectacular. She oozes sexiness from every pore. I’ll bet she doesn’t cringe when men touch her. I’ll bet she doesn’t feel her skin crawl just thinking about being with a man.
It would be so much easier for him—for any man—to be with her over me.
He takes my silence as incredulity. “Piper.” He gently puts his hands on my shoulders and spins me around to face him.
I can’t look directly at him. I stare blindly into his chest as my thoughts stray to what it might look like under his tight-fitting polo. I have a pretty good idea. After all, I’ve seen him shirtless at the gym.
He puts a finger under my chin, raising my head until our eyes are forced to meet. “I wasn’t kissing her. Believe me, if I was kissing her, that’s not what it would have looked like.” He grabs my face, his hands on either side, his thumbs meeting in front to rub across my bottom lip as he stares at the slow gesture. “This is what it would have looked like.”
He leans down and his lips crash into mine so forcefully, it propels my body against the door behind me.
“Ugh.” When the hard steel meets my back, my mouth opens and my breath escapes me, right into his welcoming kiss. He takes the opportunity to push his tongue into my mouth. His silky, firm, demanding tongue. His tongue that has infiltrated my every thought since he kissed me last night.
After his tongue relentlessly takes everything it can from me, his mouth parts from mine, never once leaving my skin as he trails feathery kisses from the edge of my lips over to my ear.
My head tilts as he devours the space between my earlobe and my shoulder. He slowly works over every centimeter of my skin, studying it with his lips. Each flick of his tongue sends electric shocks spiraling through me. Each light sucking movement causing tremors across my body.
Never in my life have I felt this way. I’m standing on air. No, I’m floating. I get it now—what people mean when they say they are on ‘cloud nine.’
All too quickly, he pulls away, and for the first time, I’m left wanting more. Needing more.
Craving more.
And if his triumphant smile is any indication, it’s written all over me like a cheap romance novel.
He places a chaste kiss on my lips and laughs. “Was that just our first fight?” His hand lingers on me, tracing the curve of my neck.
Smiling, I say, “No, that would have been the airport. You know, when you called me a bitch and a drunk.”
“Oh, right.” He has the decency to look shameful.
“It wasn’t even our second fight,” I say. “That was at Skylar’s when you said I wasn’t an athlete and my legs were too short to run a marathon.”
His eyes fill with regret. “I was a dick, Piper. I’m really sorry. I think I was just trying to fight my attraction for you from the very beginning. Anyway, you proved me wrong. Those little legs beat my ass and now you have bragging rights.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, knowing he let me win. “So, you find me attractive, huh?”
“You have no idea, do you?” his eyes snap down to his tented pants.
My pulse races. And not in a good I’m-standing-on-a-cloud kind of way. It races in a turn-and-open-the-door-and-run-for-dear-life kind of way.
In typical Mason fashion, he senses my anxiety and pulls away. He grabs my hand. “Come and sit down. Can I get you a drink? Maybe an adult beverage?”
I want this. I want him. Maybe if I get a few drinks in me, I’ll relax.
What the fuck are you doing, Piper? My conscience screams at me, knowing good and well the position that could put me in. I try to push my pangs of conscience aside. I try to push my fears aside. Mason is a good man.
Mason is a good man, I repeat over and over inside my head.
“What, no more juice boxes?” I joke. Then instead of sitting on the couch, I follow him to the kitchen. “I can help.”
He pulls out a bottle of Jack. It’s unopened and I wonder if he got it specifically for me, after seeing it was my drink of choice at the benefit. I watch him expertly mix it with j
ust the right amount of Coke, splitting a can between us and not going too heavy on the liquor.
I take my glass from him and we walk back in the living room to sit on the couch.
“What was it you wanted me to see?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes in question while taking a drink.
“At the train. You said you wanted to show me something at your apartment.”
“Oh, that. Yeah . . . well, you’re looking at it.”
“What?” I look around.
“My apartment. I wanted to show you my apartment.”
I shake my head in mock disgust.
“What?” he says. “It worked, didn’t it? I got you to come back here. I just never planned anything out beyond that. I have no idea what to do with you. I mean, I haven’t been on an actual adult-like date where a girl comes back to my place before, so I’m not sure exactly how this works.”
I have to hold in my giggle. Mason Lawrence—hot, sexy, almost-famous football player—doesn’t know what to do on a date. But then I realize, neither do I. Hell, I don’t even read my sister’s romance novels. Do we watch television? Play a board game? Get out our phones and text our friends?
I take a drink. “Um . . . do you have any movies?”
He lets out a relieved breath. “Movies, yes! I have lots of movies.” He hops off the couch and opens his entertainment center to reveal an impressive stockpile of titles that probably cost more than my first car.
I follow him over and peruse his collection. He has all the great sports movies, of course. He has some documentaries, sci-fi, and even some romantic comedies. I survey the hundreds of films surrounding his massive T.V. But I gasp and my fingers stop browsing when I spot one in particular.
Mason recognizes the way my eyes hesitate when they come across this specific title. He reaches out and pulls it from the case. “Okay. Roxanne it is. Are you a big Steve Martin fan or something?”
“Something like that,” I say, my gaze fixed on the floor as I make my way back to the couch.
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