by T. M. Cromer
“Like what?”
“Don’t try to pretend with me. I’ve known you since the first grade. You are the queen of avoidance if you don’t want to answer.”
With a sigh, Erica shot her friend a helpless look before leaning forward to check the door was closed. “I’m completely and hopelessly in love with Zack. I should move out — I know that, but I want to stay.”
“Do you think that’s wise? How does he feel about you?” Pfft, as if she was the voice of reason.
“That’s just it. I’m not sure. The way he acts toward me, how caring he can be, how protective, makes me believe he sees me as more than a convenient lay.”
“Ohmygod! You’ve been sleeping with him? With Zack Sharp? Mr. All-Star Jock? You?” The volume of Shonda’s voice rose with each syllable. She appeared to have concerned Zack when she got to a screech if the panic on his face was any indication as he swung the door open.
A man who charged through a door without a weapon, ready to take on unknown assailants, was to be respected. She nearly laughed when he so blithely went about snagging part of Erica’s donut, dropping a steamy kiss on her lips, and saluting Shonda on the way out.
Mouth twitching in suppressed humor, Shonda beat a hasty retreat. A promise of a visit and a quick hug, then she was sailing out the door in a much better frame of mind. Or at least it was a better frame of mind until she inadvertently eavesdropped on Zack and Mason’s conversation.
Chapter Ten
Shonda headed back to the waiting room to get the hoodie she’d left there. Outside the door she heard the men’s voices. She debated walking in, not wanting to interrupt what sounded like a serious conversation.
“Should I be concerned?” Mason was asking.
“I don’t know. You tell me. What’s going on there?” Zack demanded.
“Nothing,” Mason snapped. “First Dane, now you. It’s called a private life for a reason.”
“Don’t break her heart, man. I don’t need the fallout. I have enough shit on my plate right now,” Zack warned.
Mason’s next words made her heart hammer painfully in her chest.
“Look, she knew the score going in. We met on the plane, had some mind-blowing sex for the time we were there, and then parted ways at the airport when we got back home.”
“Bullshit. You’re looking everywhere but at me. If that’s the case, where were you these last three days?”
“Fine, we may not have parted ways at the airport. I followed her home for another few nights together. That’s it.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re both here together.”
“Actually, I was sleeping off the after-effects when Dane called. I met Shonda again in the parking lot,” Mason said. “I hadn’t expected to see her again, but she came walking up the same time we did. Dane was the one who picked me up this afternoon.”
Zack groaned. “Erica is going to hate you, and maybe me, because you’re an ass.”
“Her friend is an adult who knew the score,” Mason countered.
Shonda stepped into the doorway. She needed to see Mason’s face as he said the words. Needed to burn it into her mind and heart so maybe she could learn her lesson and move on.
He didn’t notice her right away, which was fine. She wanted to give him enough rope to hang himself.
“I’m not taking the rap for someone reading more into a casual fuck—” The end of his sentence was cut off when he finally noticed her. Both Zack and Dane pivoted in her direction.
Hot and cold warred in her body. It wanted to shut down from shock, but was heating up from embarrassment. She wasn’t embarrassed to be spoken about so rudely. No, that was on Mason. But mortification that she’d been so blind to what an arrogant sonofabitch he was stained her cheeks.
Head high, heart dead in her chest, she walked to the chair she’d occupied earlier. “Excuse the interruption, fellas. I left my jacket here. Please, carry on.”
She was proud her voice didn’t shake.
“Shonda, please let me explain.” Mason made a move to block her exit. When he would have invaded her personal space, she held up an outstretched arm.
“No need. I’m an adult who knew the score,” she said, amazed at the calmness settling over her. “I promise you, I’m not reading the last two weeks as anything but that casual fuck. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving.”
“No. Please, you don’t understand.”
The other men’s eyebrows shot skyward, and they exchanged a look of disbelief. Zack and Dane, who Shonda now considered the wiser of the Sharp men, beat a hasty retreat. Mason, who she now considered dumb as a rock, didn’t.
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly well. You have gone out of your way to tell me, and anyone who will listen, how casual our fuck was.” Yes, she was repeating herself at this point but who really gave a damn? Not her, and certainly not him. He’d have to possess a human heart to care. “Goodbye, Mason.”
He grabbed her arm as she passed. “Shonda, don’t.”
“If you don’t let go of my arm right this instant, I will scream this goddamn hospital down around your ears,” she threatened. “Let. Go.”
“Love, if you would just list—”
“Don’t you ever call me ‘love’ again. It makes me sick.” She peeled his fingers from her arm and flung his hand away.
She held it together all the way home, but once the door was shut and locked, Shonda broke down. What was it about her that was so damn unloveable? Her mother never truly knew she was alive other than as a tool to control her father. Her father cared for her to some degree. Although, it would have been better had she been a boy. But she always dreamed of the day Luigi would storm her mother’s five thousand square foot home and snatch her away to live with him. He never did. Nolan only ever considered her a nuisance. Not one boyfriend had ever said the words “I love you.” Nope, she was the moron who would pour out her feelings, only to have guys walk out the door before the “you” came out of her mouth.
Erica was the only one who truly cared. Now, their relationship was tainted for Shonda, too. If Erica stayed with Zack—and it sure looked like she would—Shonda would be forced to be reminded of this horrible time in her life.
She was a piss-poor judge of character. Something had to be done about her man radar. Perhaps she should search the internet for a class or webinar on how to pick the proper guy for your unloveable personality type.
Her smartphone dinged. Erica. Of course, she would text to see if Shonda was all right. Zack must have informed her of what went down at the hospital.
Shonda typed out what she hoped was a convincing reply.
“It’s all good. You concentrate on getting better. I’m fine.”
* * *
“Liar.”
Well, Erica wasn’t wrong, but Shonda didn’t want it to get back to Mason that she was upset in the least.
“LOL. You want something to take your mind off the boring hospital food. I’ll bring more donuts tomorrow. Love ya. TTYS.”
* * *
“Love you too. Don’t forget I like the lemon.”
She snorted. As if Erica would ever let her forget lemon was her favorite.
“I think I can remember after twenty-something years of friendship.”
* * *
“You must be okay, you’re being a wiseass.”
Chapter Eleven
“So, what’s going on with you and Mason?”
Shonda didn’t pause in running the brush through Erica’s thick, auburn hair. She’d been expecting this question for the last two and a half days. She admired her friend’s restraint. It was the first time in the history of their friendship.
“Not a thing.”
“I’d turn around to call bullshit, but it hurts to move,” Erica snarked.
Thank God for small favors.
“Take it at face value and move on,” Shonda suggested.
Erica reached up to stop her hand and give a gentle tug. Her sign Shonda
was to move in front of her. She complied.
Worried brown eyes met with her carefully blank gaze. “Shonda, this is me you’re talking to. It doesn’t have to go any further. Please don’t shut me out.”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” Erica insisted. “Three days ago at the hospital, you were telling me you met a great guy. You were animated and on the verge of confessing he was the one. Now, here you sit, like the soul has been sucked out of your body.” She sighed deeply and continued, “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!” Erica’s fiery temper was engaged. “You’d better start talking or, when I can, I’m going to kick your as—”
Zack appeared in the doorway. Three to-go cups of coffee and a box of donuts. “Everything okay in here?”
“Peachy. I was just heading out.” Shonda handed him the brush in exchange for one of the drinks.
“Oh, hell no! You don’t get to leave when I can’t follow to yell at you.”
Erica was always hilarious in her anger, and today was no exception. The first real smile in two days graced Shonda’s lips. She reached into the box, grabbed a donut, and shoved it halfway into Erica’s open pie hole.
“Later,” she sang on her way toward the door.
Erica sputtered while Zack chuckled and followed her out.
“She’s going to murder you in her next novel, you know that, right?”
The twinkle in his eye triggered Shonda’s laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve ever read her books, but one in every four of her murdered female characters bears a striking resemblance to me.”
His bark of laughter, so similar to Mason’s, had her unconsciously placing her hand over her heart and rubbing.
“You okay?” he asked and gestured to her chest.
Leave it to Mr. Perceptive to notice her absent action.
“Heartburn,” she lied.
His skeptical expression said he didn’t believe her, but he remained silent on that front. Instead he lowered his voice and told her about a surprise party he planned for Erica for the following day.
“Dude, she hates surprises. Tell her people are coming and to act surprised, or she may stab you in your sleep.” Zack’s face went white, and Shonda could’ve bitten off her tongue. “Oh, shit! I’m sorry!”
“Can we agree to shelve that term for the time being?” he asked wryly.
“Of course,” she agreed, full of remorse. “Zack, I really am sorry.”
“You can make it up to me by being here tomorrow. Eleven a.m. sharp.”
She smiled at the way he manipulated the conversation and her. “I’ll be here. Can I bring anything?”
“Nope. Just yourself.” Zack leaned in to buss her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
One hand on the door, Shonda paused to take a deep breath and shove away her envy. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her. She told me you’re blaming yourself for the attacks. Don’t do that. You’re not responsible for all the crazies out in the world, Zack.”
His solemn nod told her he didn’t quite believe it.
“Speaking of dastardly deeds, Mason told me about the break-ins down in St. Thomas. Have you had any problems since you’ve been home?”
“Dastardly deeds?” she asked on a laugh, ignoring the surge of annoyance that Mason had spilled her business. “I can tell you’ve been hanging around an author.” His no-nonsense expression said she couldn’t deflect this one. “No. No dastardly deeds of any kind since I’ve been home. Either perpetrated by me or against me. Happy?”
He grinned and nodded. “Tomorrow. Eleven.”
“Oh, and tell your brother, I’m going to kick his ass for gossiping like an old woman,” she said with false sweetness.
His grinned widened from ear to ear. “You got it.”
“Thanks.”
She stomped through the dusting of snow to her car. “And shovel your damned sidewalk,” she hollered over her shoulder.
“Nag, nag, nag,” he hollered back. “Drive safe.”
Yep, Erica had found a good one. The non-jealous side of her was thrilled for her friend.
Shonda started her car and headed toward the grocery store. She’d been holed up, wallowing in her misery long enough. If she didn’t get cat food soon, her little fatties would be looking to make a meal of her.
Happy the store wasn’t crowded at this time of day, she leisurely perused the aisles. The staples of peanut butter and jelly were added to her cart, along with chocolate and cheese puffs. A trip to the pet aisle secured enough food to last her beasties a good three weeks. Lastly, she stopped in the beer and wine section, trying to determine the best vino to pair with her chocolate and cheese puffs. She plopped a contender in her basket and lifted another from the shelf to read the label.
A high-pitched giggle caught Shonda’s attention. The sound was familiar and akin to nails on a chalkboard as far as she was concerned. Her old high school nemesis, Rachel Westington, came in to view, linked arm in arm to the man Shonda least wanted to see.
Just her shitty luck. She ducked out of sight and crouched low behind a display shelf.
Mason’s jean-clad legs came into view. Crap! She hadn’t escaped detection.
“Want to tell my why you’re hiding, love?”
She closed her eyes and counted to ten before inching one open. Yep, he was still there. Dammit.
“I’m not hiding. I was studying this display,” she lied, standing slowly and pretending great interest in the back of the cardboard cutout.
Voice pitched low for her ears only, Mason said, “You didn’t strike me as someone who avoids confrontation.”
His words snapped Shonda’s spine straight. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m done here.”
Rachel eyed her cart, patently false sympathy written all over her smug face. “Really, Sondra, can you advertise how anymore single you are?”
“It’s Shonda, as you well remember, and you can kiss m—”
“Actually, Shonda and I are here together,” Mason cut in from where he stood behind her. He reached around her to plunk his basket of goods inside her cart. Then he pulled her against him, her back to his front, one strong arm across her abdomen, holding her in place. “She sent me to get the salad makings for our dinner tonight.” He tucked his head next to hers to get a better view of the cart. “You forgot the popcorn for our movie, but thanks for remembering the cheese puffs. My favorite, as you well know.”
He was laying it on thick, but sounded believable enough that Rachel’s skin took on a sickly hue. “You turned me down for her?”
Never one to gloat, Shonda nevertheless offered up a smug smile of her own. “Sucks for you, doesn’t it, Regina?”
“Rachel,” her nemesis spat and stormed off. The heels of her stilettos tapped out an angry rhythm with her departure.
Shonda’s treacherous body took another long moment to soak up how good it felt to be in his arms before allowing her to pull away. “You didn’t need to do that,” she said quietly, shifting to face him.
“She’s a bitch and has been after me since high school. You did me a favor by playing along.”
She nodded and removed his basket from her cart and held it out. “Fair enough. Here.”
Instead of taking it from her, he leaned his tall frame across the handle of her cart. “Cheese puffs really are my favorite. I can grab some beer and we can go back to your place.” He offered her his panty-melting smile.
It worked. Her panties were no more. But her brain and her cold heart were in sync for once in her life. “Sorry. I’m playing catch-up on some work-related things.”
She set his basket on the ground and grabbed the cart from the far end to give it a yank. He stumbled for a second. It was difficult to tell if his frown was one of disbelief because his PM smile didn’t work this time, or if he was cross because he’d almost lost his balance.
“Besides, I’m done with
casual fucks.”
Splendid as far as exit lines were concerned, but her timing could have been better. Due to the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears, Shonda had failed to hear Rachel’s return. She spun around to witness the look of triumph bloom across the other woman’s face.“I was halfway out the door before I realized Mason had to be toying with you. He likes to make me jealous,” Rachel said, saccharine sweet with a hint of pity.
Shonda really wanted this suck-ass week to be over. “Oh, honey, get a clue. The man is breaking out in hives from being within a foot of you.”
Now that was a splendid exit line! Shonda gave herself a mental fist bump as she blindly grabbed another bottle of wine from beside Rachel’s head and swept from the area. It didn’t hurt to hear Mason’s laughter trailing behind her.
In the checkout line, she made a conscious effort to stare straight ahead. Her nerve endings, the ones that always informed her whenever he was close, were firing off left and right. Added was the fact she could smell the yummy scent of Eau de Mason.
When she was one person away from getting her groceries rung up and bagged, the cashier flipped the switch on her light to the blinking position. The customer service price check went out, delaying her escape.
He pressed closer, crowding her between his rock-hard body and her cart. There was nowhere to go unless she wanted to mow down the eighty-year-old in front of her. “I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier, but you smell amazing,” he murmured, lips against her ear.
A delightful shiver raced up her spine. “No means no, asshole,” she muttered.
“I’ll let you sniff me. I know it’s your favorite thing to do.”
It was, but she’d be damned if she’d acknowledge that little tidbit of truth.
“Your line is getting old.”
“So is you calling me an asshole.”
She lobbed back the verbal tennis ball. “If the shoe fits.”
