by Inara Scott
“And despite that, you just want to be friends?” The intensity in his gaze caught her off guard. “Friends are honest with each other, so be honest with me about this. Is this what you really want? To walk away from this?”
It took a fraction of a second for her to respond because the moment was so fraught with tension.
And desire. His gaze was like the touch of his hands, caressing her from the tender skin of her breasts to the curve of her waist.
He would not force this, she realized. It was her decision to make. But she would have to make it knowing what she was walking away from.
“Yes,” she said, setting her jaw in determination. “That’s what I want.”
“Okay then. Friends it is.” He broke their connection and looked away, and the air whooshed out of her lungs at the loss of it. He pulled his phone from his pocket. After consulting the screen and making a few taps, he looked back toward her. “So, drinks on Saturday?”
She knit her brows together in shock. “Drinks on Saturday? What are you talking about?”
“My friends and I go out every couple of weeks for drinks,” he said calmly. “It’s already set up. And you can’t even tell me you have to study because you have your last midterm that afternoon and all your papers are done until finals so this is the perfect time to go out and celebrate.”
“How did you know that?” she asked miserably, becoming increasingly resigned to his mind reading.
“You told me that on Friday. In between telling me that your favorite food is onion rings and your grandmother’s name was Gertrude. You’re just going to have to get used to me knowing everything about you. You have your party tricks, and I have mine.”
She sighed at her own idiocy. “I really told you her name was Gertrude?”
He nodded solemnly. “And your grandfather’s name was Arthur.”
“I’m not sure drinks are a good idea,” she hedged. “I may not have to study, but I’ve got a lot of work around the house to catch up on. And laundry. Lots of laundry. And why would you want me to go out with your friends, anyway?”
“You wanted me to have a growth experience. You said it would be a good challenge. So I’m returning the favor. When’s the last time you went out on a Saturday night?”
“That’s not fair.”
His eyes gleamed. “If I have to do friends without benefits, then you have to do friends. Period. And that includes social activities.”
Hanging out with Mason had already been even more dangerous than she had imagined. And becoming friends? That might have been the dumbest idea she’d ever had. Why in the world would she want to become friends with someone who could set her body on fire with a single look?
What kind of crazy person agreed to such a thing?
“Social activities?”
“Nights out,” he said. “A few hours off from work. Maybe even—if you’re not careful—some fun.”
The challenge in his words was lighthearted, yet inescapable. When had been the last time she’d gone out and had fun on a weekend? Before she’d started school? Before her grandma had passed? Before money had gotten so tight?
“Fine.” She blew out a breath in surrender. “But don’t expect me to get all pretty and feminine. Because that is totally not me, and if we’re going to become friends, you’ll have to put up with my poor fashion sense and oversize clothes.”
“A given,” he said with a small bow.
“I’m not staying out too late,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “I have too much to do.”
“Of course.”
“And absolutely no hanky panky,” she said, as much for herself as for him. She steeled her resolve not to let her pesky, mutinous body get the better of her much more sensible brain.
The tawny flecks in his eyes gleamed. “Naturally.”
“Are you sure you can handle this?”
“I’m sure I can handle this, Tess. The question is, can you?”
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Tess made her way reluctantly to Mason’s front door, unsure what to expect on the other side. She had spent the evening tossing and turning, imagining what the night might have held if she had given in to her impulse and gone to bed with him.
She was pretty sure she’d made the right decision by pushing him off.
Not entirely sure, but pretty sure.
Her body, however, was not sure at all. It was hot.
Unfulfilled.
And unsatisfied.
He met her at the door of his apartment carrying her usual cup of coffee. As he handed over the mug, he leaned forward, causing her heart to stop for a moment as she imagined he might kiss her. But before she could even react, he gave her a soft punch in the shoulder and said, “Good morning, friend!” before walking away with a jaunty whistle.
And that was the way things went for the rest of the week.
He was the perfect gentleman, making no move that could be interpreted as pushing the boundaries she’d established. Even when she might have wished for some hint, some brush of his hand or touch of his knee against hers, he neither said nor did anything she could complain about.
Nothing.
He called her buddy, not sweetheart.
He stopped smoldering her with his sexy stare. Now she felt like she was the one breaking their bargain every time she stared longingly at the firm line of his butt, or swallowed hard at a flash of his abs.
But he also didn’t give her any quarter in developing their friendship. He insisted they walk Wick and Astro together in the morning before he went to work. In a friendly way, of course. No touching. No inappropriate remarks. In the evenings, he went for a run and came back sweaty and gorgeous, then bought them fresh Vietnamese baguette sandwiches for dinner. They followed each of her midterms with a bottle of wine and fancy chocolate. He found a new business venture to invest in and took her to dinner to celebrate.
And that was worse than anything she could have imagined. Because she could push away his touch. There was nothing she could do about his friendship. She could reject a jerk, have no regrets about not kissing an asshole. But this guy? This friend, who was wrapped in the sexiest package she had ever seen? That was much harder to resist.
Especially now that she knew that he wanted her. Sometimes, when he left her in the kitchen to take his shower, she imagined joining him there, water sluicing over both their bodies, knowing he wouldn’t push her away. Just before she left at night, she pictured herself stopping him at the door and kissing him, their mouths and bodies meshing like they had in the kitchen.
He was killing her.
On Friday morning, Tess had just sent Mason off to work when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see it was Erica, her boss at the vet clinic.
Erica’s soft Southern twang was rich with sorrow. “Hey Tessie, I don’t mean to bug you, but Mrs. Edelstar brought Snickers in last night and he doesn’t look good.”
“Oh no.” Tess grabbed her bag from the counter and started for the door. Snickers was a sweet eighteen-year-old tabby cat with a variety of health problems, including kidney disease. His owner was an equally sweet older woman who lived on her own, not far from Tess. “Anything new?”
“No, the poor guy is just really struggling. Not eating or drinking. Definitely in pain. Mrs. Edelstar is coming back later this morning. It’s time to let him go.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. This was, by far, the hardest part of working at the vet clinic. “What time?”
“Eleven.”
“I’ll be there.”
…
Tess managed to arrive at the clinic a few minutes before eleven. It was a small practice of three vets that had been in the neighborhood for decades. Tess had found herself there a couple of years after moving back from Phoenix because her grandmother fed and looked after a couple of old feral cats. Tess had always loved animals but had never been able to afford or take care of a pet of her own, so she’d taken on the task of caring for her gra
ndmother’s cats with a fierce intensity. When one of them turned up hurt, she’d wrestled the cat into a cardboard box and taken it into the nearest clinic, even though she was already struggling to pay for her grandmother’s medications and keep the lights on in their falling-down house.
Erica was a tall black woman with short hair and a no-nonsense attitude. She had moved to California from North Carolina for vet school, and with her own mountain of loans had understood when Tess blanched at the size of the bill and asked if there was any kind of payment plan or student discount—or if there was any way she could work off the debt by cleaning or helping out in the clinic.
After just a few months of cleaning cages and sweeping floors, Tess had seen her future. The unconditional love and trust the animals placed in their owners had warmed the bits of her heart that remained frozen after years of neglect. Meanwhile, she’d found that she had a knack for dealing with even the most difficult animals. She’d started walking and training dogs soon after that and had been amazed to find that she could get paid for something she loved doing.
“Hey Tess, how you been?” Vincent, one of the clinic’s veteran employees, waved from the front desk. He had silvery-gray hair cut short and a trim build that belied his sixty-plus years. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”
Tess smiled, though her heart was heavy at the thought of what lay ahead. “I’m doing okay. How are you?”
“Tired,” he said, though there was a twinkle in his eye. “You need to come back. Erica misses you so much she keeps hanging out and bothering me so I can’t get any work done.”
“Oh please,” she said with a wave. “You love the attention. Is she in her office?”
He waved toward the back of the clinic, the smile falling away. “Yeah, she’s doing a little paperwork before Mrs. Edelstar comes in.”
She sighed. “It’s going to be a tough one.” Even though caring for sick and dying animals was a fact of life at the clinic, it was still hard, especially when the owner was an old friend.
Erica’s door was cracked open, so Tess knocked gently before entering. Her friend met her at the door with a hug. “Sorry to make you drive all this way,” she said.
“I couldn’t let Mrs. Edelstar go through it alone.”
Erica nodded and sat back down. “I figured you’d feel that way. She’ll appreciate having you there. How are things otherwise? How’s the dog sitting?”
Tess sank into a chair next to the desk. “Nice. Turns out being rich has its benefits.”
“Shocker.” Erica eyed her with a knowing look. “And how’s that cute new boss? You two hitting it off?”
“What do you mean?”
Erica gestured toward her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so…presentable.”
“Hey!” Tess protested. “I’m always presentable.”
“If I’m not mistaken, there’s mascara on those lashes. And a blow out? Have I ever seen your hair out of that ponytail?”
Tess didn’t have a response, so she just scowled down at her hands. “It’s not a big deal.”
“For someone else, definitely not. For you?” Erica studied her with the same thoughtful look she used to diagnose her patients. “You like this guy, don’t you?”
Just like the toughest dog melted under Erica’s touch, Tess felt her defenses slipping away. “Maybe, but you know I’m not really interested in dating. I’ve got too much going on.”
“Too much on the outside or the inside?”
“Stop animal whispering me,” Tess said. “You know it freaks me out when you do that.”
“Vets observe,” Erica replied with her usual aplomb. “It’s what we do. The animals don’t talk, so we find alternate ways to figure out information.”
Tess made a noncommittal sound. “Outside or inside, I am definitely not getting involved with Mason. Anyway, how’s Isaiah?”
Asking about Erica’s eighteen-month-old son was the one guaranteed way to get her off track. Her entire face softened. “He’s great. He learned a new word this week.” She beamed with pride. “Pee-pee.”
“Oh.” Tess nodded. “That is impressive.”
“It means peas,” Erica said. “You know, the green mushy ones.”
“Of course. That’s what I was thinking.”
“You should come by for dinner next week and witness it firsthand. It’s been forever since we’ve had you over.”
“I know. Mason works late a lot. Half the time I don’t get home till nine or ten. Thank goodness Moses and Gracie have been helping with Astro. And seriously, I do appreciate you letting me take this time off. I know it means extra work for everyone else.”
“It’s almost like people love you or something,” Erica said, with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Tess rolled her eyes. “Let’s not go too far.”
“Right.” Erica started to say something but was interrupted by Vincent at the doorway of her office.
“Mrs. Edelstar is here,” he said.
Tess and Erica rose at the same time, sharing a sad nod of resolution between them.
“I’ll get her.” Tess started for the waiting area. “She’ll need a hand.”
“We all do,” Erica said.
…
When Mason got back that night, Tess was sitting on the couch, blindly petting Wick as she stared out the window thinking about holding Mrs. Edelstar’s hand as she said goodbye to her dearest friend. He stood in the doorway and surveyed the scene. Wick settled his head deeper into her lap and huffed a greeting to Mason instead of moving.
“Hey,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Hey yourself,” he replied. He set down his briefcase at the door. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just a little tired. Long day.” She blinked rapidly and kept her gaze turned away, because somehow just the sound of his voice caused her throat to swell and moisture to fill her eyes. She kept her gaze firmly on Wick’s tawny back as he approached. “I thought maybe I’d head home a little early today.”
He lowered himself onto the couch next to her, on her other side from Wick. “Of course. Anything you want to talk about?”
She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “Nah. It’s no big deal.”
“If you say so.” He didn’t move, and neither did she. Some strange weight kept her pinned to the couch. The thought of leaving and being alone for the rest of the night left her feeling empty and bleak.
“Sometimes it helps to talk about things.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s stupid. Cycle of life and all that. I just wish it wasn’t part of the job, that’s all.”
“I see.” He reached over her lap to stroke the top of Wick’s head. “I’m sorry. Was this one of your clients?”
“No, a patient at the clinic. Her owner was friends with my grandma, so she always insisted I help with Snickers’ exams. She was pretty upset. She lost her husband a few years ago, and she’s all alone now.”
“That’s hard. Even if it is the cycle of life, that doesn’t make it any less hard.”
She nodded, and he quietly slid his arm over the back of the sofa. He didn’t touch her, but the invitation was there. Unable to resist, she found herself burrowing into him, letting her head fall on his chest. Gently, he lowered his arm to encircle her.
Erica’s voice whispered in her ears, and she wondered how Mason knew exactly what she needed. The feeling of him there, supporting and surrounding her, was more than she could withstand, and the tears started to fall.
He didn’t say anything, just held her against him.
She stayed like that for a long time.
…
On Saturday morning, Tess pulled everything she owned out of her dresser and spread it on the bed. It didn’t take long. There were jeans, a few more jeans, some T-shirts, some other T-shirts, and several well-worn sweatshirts.
Nothing that she could wear to a hipster bar in San Francisco without making a complete fool of herself.
She stared at the mess on her bed and nibbled her bottom lip. Not that she cared what Mason thought of her clothes, because he obviously knew by now that fashion wasn’t her strong suit, but she wasn’t looking forward to complete humiliation in front of his friends. She put on her skinniest jeans and a black tank top and grabbed a pair of gold hoop earrings from her underutilized jewelry box and tucked them into her pocket. She didn’t wear earrings normally—she simply couldn’t find a reason to bother—but she still had a few from the days when she used to care.
In a fit of pure desperation, she grabbed a pair of disposable contact lenses to put in later that night. She used to buy them regularly, but they’d been sacrificed on the altar of her cost-saving measures, and she’d replaced them last year with the cheapest pair of glasses she could order online.
Then she grabbed her jacket and the tube of mascara she’d bought last week.
It would have to do. After all, they were just friends, right?
Of course, it was the first time she’d be meeting all his other friends, including the legendary Zoe, who was apparently some kind of lawyer rock star, and probably gorgeous as well. She’d also been warned that Nate could be a little intimidating, and that Connor didn’t say much in a group.
So yeah, safe to say she was a little nervous about the whole endeavor.
Mason didn’t respond to her knock when she arrived, so she let herself in. “I’m here,” she called into the quiet apartment.
“Be out in a few,” Mason called back from his bedroom.
Wick greeted her by rubbing his massive head against her leg. She welcomed the distraction of his slimy kiss, rubbing him behind the ears and giving him a fond pat before heading the kitchen. He was doing so much better. Friday had been his last day on the steroids, and thanks to that, and his new diet, he was doing much better. She only took him out every four or five hours now, and he hadn’t lunged at another dog for days. Soon, he’d be ready to go down to one walk a day.
She tried not to think about that, because it meant that Mason wasn’t going to need her anymore, and that wasn’t something she wasn’t prepared to contemplate.
