Frenemies

by Emma Hart

  I expected nothing less.

  She pushed herself off the sofa and up to standing. “I was only finding out the status of your relationship.”

  Immy’s cheeks blazed red, but I didn’t know if it was because she was getting angry or if it was because she was embarrassed. “When we know, we’ll be sure you’re the first to know.”

  Bit of both.

  “Let’s go!” she repeated.

  Jen grabbed her cane and tapped it against the floor as she walked.

  I paused and listened. Was she—? No. There was no way.

  She was tapping it to the beat of Another One Bites The Dust.

  Immy pressed her fingers into her temples and closed her eyes.

  Jen started humming along with the tapping.

  “I have an idea,” I whispered to Immy. “Put her to bed, and I’ll find you cake and wine.”

  She looked at me pointedly. “I can’t live like this, Mason.”

  I laughed and wrapped her in a quick hug. “Go. We can talk whenever you want to.”

  With a sigh, she followed Jen out of the door, shaking her head, and muttering about hiding the newspaper.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – IMMY

  Adult O’Clock

  “You can’t just harass him,” I said, shutting the front door. “You can’t go over there and demand information on things we haven’t even decided yet!”

  Grandma sniffed and opened the cupboard under the sink. She pulled out a packet of Twizzlers and a bottle of whiskey, making me balk.

  How long had those been hidden there?

  Damn it.

  “Well, get on with it and decide,” Grandma said, taking her treats through to the living room.

  Okay, well, she wasn’t going to drink the JD from the bottle.

  I grabbed a glass and followed her. “We can’t just snap our fingers and decide.”

  “Why the hell not?” She took the glass and poured herself a healthy measure, then looked at me as if to say ‘take this bottle and you’re dead.’

  “Because it’s not that simple.”

  “Not that simple? Pish!” She waved her hand through the air. “You kids make everything so gosh darn complicated. You know how your poppy asked me to be his girlfriend?”

  “Yes.” A smile ghosted across my face. “I remember.”

  ““Jennifer,” he said, “You’re my girlfriend now, and you’re not arguing it.””

  “And you never did.”

  “And I never did!” She lifted her glass and titled it to the ceiling ever so slightly. “If that cantankerous old bastard could get it over and done within five seconds, you young whippersnappers sure as hell can, you hear me, Imogen?”

  “Grandma—”

  “No. I know he hurt you. Gosh, girl, we all know. We’re all fed up of hearing your whinin’ now.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Stop exaggerating.”

  “No. I’m much less entertaining if I do.”

  I rolled my eyes. It was the only thing to do when she was in one of these moods.

  “You’re over it. You don’t bang a man you have a grudge against.”

  “I don’t know, Grandma. That depends how good the sex is.”

  “Imogen!”

  “You brought it up!”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Imogen Anderson, listen to me right now. If you like that man, put your ego up your ass and go and get him.”

  “As motivating as your little speech is,” I said dryly. “You’re missing the point, if you’d let me talk.”

  “I suppose I can give you ten seconds.”

  “He has a child.”

  Grandma opened her mouth, then stopped. Slowly, she tilted her head to the side and nodded in agreement.

  “He has a daughter,” I said, sinking into the chair opposite her. “It’s not like we just met and we can go headfirst into it. Even if you stop thinking about everything that happened six years ago, that doesn’t change. She comes as part of the package, and I can’t just change her life in a crazy way because I might still be in love with her dad.”

  “You’re right,” Grandma said, a soft edge to her voice. “Absolutely, Imogen, you are correct.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But you’re missing one big point.”

  “What’s that?”

  She leaned forward, her eyes glinting with wisdom. “Any changes to Maya’s life are not your decision to make.”

  “I know that. I—”

  “Do you?” She raised her penciled-in eyebrows. “Because you either don’t know it, or you’re using her as the excuse why you shouldn’t go next door and tell that man exactly how you feel.”

  Um.

  “I’m not. She’s the sweetest kid, and I don’t want to do anything that could ever hurt her.”

  “That’s not your choice, though, is it? It’s Mason’s. If he didn’t want to date, he wouldn’t have opened himself up to you. You’re the one who’s pushed him away, Imogen. You’re not forcing your way into his life. Ever since he saw you, he opened his arms and is willing to risk not only his heart, but his daughter’s, too.”

  “I don’t want him to do that for me.”

  “That’s not your choice,” she repeated. “That’s his. Now, you can either accept it and all the responsibilities that come with dating a man who has a child, who you love, or you can tell him no.”

  I shifted in my seat. Was it really that simple?

  “Because let me tell you, sweetheart. If you don’t want that man, someone else will. And they won’t push him away the way you have. He might not ever love another woman the way I think he loves you, but he’ll love her well enough, and you’ll have to sit here and watch them.” She sat back, swishing the liquid in her glass. “Now, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna pull out the balls I know you possess? Or are you going to run away like you’ve run away from every other guy you’ve dated since him?”

  “I think running away is an exaggeration.”

  “As I said, I’m not nearly as entertaining if I stick to the cold, hard facts.”

  “Oh.” I pressed my face into my hands and blew out a long breath. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I think you should walk over, knock on his door, and say the first thing that comes into your head.”

  “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

  “I know. You’ll ask for a cup of sugar, knowing you. But whatever comes out will be the thing you really want to do. Stop fucking thinking everything into the ground, child, or you’ll kill yourself deciding what to do.”

  “Okay. I need to shower to get this paint out. Then I’ll do something about it.”

  “No. Go now or not at all.”

  “Grandma—”

  “Imogen!”

  “Fine!” I got up and stormed to the front door. I yanked it open and slammed it behind me, then stomped my way over to Mason’s house.

  I knocked my fist against the door, banging hard on it.

  “Jennifer, if that’s you again, I swear—”

  I grinned when he opened it and it was me. “Hi.”

  His lips pulled to one side. “You still have paint in your hair.”

  “I know.” I pushed my hair behind my ear. “Can you just… not talk for a minute?”

  “You want me to stand here in silence for a minute?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not the weirdest thing anyone’s ever asked of me.” He grinned and folded his arms over his chest, his blue eyes shining with amusement.

  And I just looked at him.

  From the top of his head where his thick, dark hair was swept to one side and messier than it was earlier, like he’d been running his hands through it for the last ten minutes.

  His sharp, shapely jaw was dotted with a few days’ worth of stubble, and it only made his full, pink lips more appealing.

  But it was his eyes. His gorgeous, enthralling blue eyes that held my gaze with an intensity only he had been ever to look at m
e with.

  I didn’t say a word.

  I took one step closer to him and rested my hands on his arms, making him drop them to the sides. I ran my fingers up over his strong chest and shoulders to his neck where I cupped the sides of his face.

  Then I reached onto my tiptoes and kissed him.

  And I felt how right it was in every single nerve ending that went bananas.

  Bananas was the only word that worked. Crazy, insane, wild—none of them had quite the impact that bananas did.

  Mason wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. “Shall I take that to mean this conversation might go well?”

  I laughed, pressing my face into his chest. His body shook with his own chuckles, and he cupped the back of my head, kissing the top of it.

  “Come inside before your grandma throws a party,” he whispered, pulling me over the threshold.

  I gladly went inside. I didn’t need to hear Grandma gloating that she was right.

  She’d do that for the next ten years.

  I closed the door behind us and followed him into the kitchen. I had no idea what to say now that I’d taken the chicken’s way out and kissed him, so I hovered by the island in the hopes that he would say something.

  He didn’t.

  We stood in silence, not really making eye contact with each other.

  This was ridiculous.

  “So,” we both said at the same time.

  I met his eyes and burst into laughter, and he did the same. “Oh, my God,” I said. “This is so stupid.”

  “I agree. But you came here to talk, so I’m waiting for you to start.”

  I pursed my lips. “Fine.” I leaned against the island and ran my fingers along the edge of the countertop. “Before this goes any further, you should know that Grandma is fully in your corner.”

  “I’d hope so.”

  “I’m her granddaughter. She should be on my side.”

  “We’ll come back to this later.”

  “Fine. I was talking to her just now, and she might have made me realize a few things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like how I’m letting worry for Maya get in the way of admitting the truth about how I feel.”

  Mason’s eyebrows shot up before they dropped again and drew together in a frown. “What do you mean, your worry for Maya?”

  “You know. If we started a relationship and it went wrong, and—”

  “Stop right there.” He walked over to me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “Maya is not your worry.”

  “I know that—”

  “I told you this yesterday, didn’t I? You don’t need to worry about her at all. Immy, if you want to see if we can go somewhere, just worry about how she fits into your life, not how you fit into hers.”

  “But I have to fit into hers. You’re her dad.”

  “And I’m still Mason.” His lips pulled to the side. “She’s not here right now, is she? You don’t have to worry about her right now. Even when she’s here this weekend, you don’t need to worry about her at all.”

  “But she’s a sweet kid, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “Why would she get hurt?”

  “In case we make the wrong decision.”

  “Then she will learn a very valuable lesson that sometimes, not everything works out the way you planned or wanted it to.” He stepped even closer and slid his hands up my neck so he was cupping my face. “But listen to me right now, okay? And I’m about to say this with one thousand percent confidence.”

  I swallowed.

  “You will never be the wrong decision, Imogen. You weren’t six years ago, you aren’t right now, and you won’t be in sixty years. Even if this doesn’t work out in the long run, I will never regret choosing you.”

  “But what if you do?”

  “Then I didn’t deserve you in the first place.” He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “I fucked up back then. I made a stupid fucking choice that hurt us both, and I’m not going to do that again.”

  “But Maya—”

  “The fact you care about how she feels as deeply as you do only reinforces that I know I’m making the right choice. I want to try this; me and you. Even if that’s bickering at the sight of each other or prank wars or whatever else it is. If I’d told you I loved you in college, everything would have been different.”

  “You weren’t the only one who kept that a secret. We both know that.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not going to do it again. I don’t think I ever fully got over you. But all I want you to do is think, really think about it, and decide if you have room for Maya in your life. She doesn’t need a mom, Immy. She’s got a damn good one of those if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re not gonna wake up tomorrow and she’s gonna start calling you mommy. She needs you to be her friend. Someone fun who’s gonna teach her to throw water balloons and blow up whoopie cushions and paint and draw. And if we ever reach a point where you’re going to be in her life forever, then I promise not to throw you and her in a pit and leave you to figure it all out yourself. There’s a good chance neither of you would come out alive.”

  I slapped the side of his arm at that. “Oh, I am so teaching her the water balloons and whoopie cushions. You’re gonna have to watch your back now.”

  “Not if she throws the way you do. I’ll have to watch whatever’s ten feet to my right.”

  I hit him harder. “I’ll walk out that door, Mason.”

  “I’m sure you will, Imogen. Then you’ll come right back in like you did last night and just now.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but fuck it.

  He was right.

  “God, I hate you.”

  “Ah, see, that one I believe now. I was right. You hate it when I’m right.”

  “I don’t hate it when you’re right. I hate it when I’m wrong.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Not even close.” I opened the fridge and pulled out my bottle of wine. “There have to be rules about Grandma being here, though.”

  “I’m not hosting book club,” he said quickly. “No way. One of those was more than enough for me.”

  I grinned. “Was it educational?”

  “It was something.” He took the wine bottle from me and pulled down a glass, then poured. “I’m not sure my heart can take another one of those, so please don’t put me down as a returning member.”

  “Too late. I think Evelyn is getting you a t-shirt. Besides, I’m not the president, Grandma is.”

  “She should be grateful to me. She won’t have to sing her favorite song over and over now there’s a chance you might get married before you’re thirty.”

  “I swear to God, I will kill this relationship before it even gets off the ground.”

  Dolly came skating into the kitchen, almost sliding into the cupboards before she stopped, panting, and looked at both of us.

  “She’s hungry,” Mason said.

  “She’s your dog,” I replied.

  “I amuse your grandmother for twenty minutes, and you can’t feed my puppy?”

  “Actually, I think she amused herself more than anything. She’s weird like that.”

  “At least I know where you get it from.” He passed me the wine and, with a grin, dropped a kiss on my cheek.

  “I’ll send Grandma back.”

  “Go ahead. At least she’ll get the answer she wants, and now I can ask her for cheesecake whenever I want.”

  I frowned. “Why do I feel like you’re getting a really good deal out of this?”

  “Because I am,” he replied. “Sex with you and cheesecake on tap. It’s going to be fucking glorious.”

  “We’ll see.”

  EPILOGUE – IMMY

  Kittens and Water Balls

  One Month Later

  “Like this, look. You put it under the tap and fill it with water.”

  Maya frowned but did as I’d shown her. “Like this?”

  I turned on the tap
so the water was gently coming out of it. “Uh-huh. Now, wait until it’s full… right… now.” I turned the water off and took the balloon from her. “I’ll tie it up, and here we have a water balloon.”

  She adjusted her birthday princess tiara that she was now on day three of wearing and looked at it. “And we frow that at Dadda?”

  “Yep. Out of the window so it makes a huge splash.”

  “Can we do more?”

  “Oh, yeah, we need at least ten.” I grabbed another balloon and handed it to her, and we repeated the process.

  Hannah walked in on balloon six. “What are you doing?”

  “Corrupting Maya,” I replied without blinking. “What’s up?”

  “I have a kitten.”

  Maya gasped. “Can I see?”

  I looked pointedly at Hannah. “You said ‘kitten’ in front of a four-year-old. What did you expect?”

  “Uh, not yet, sweetie. I don’t have him here,” Hannah said. “Can we talk really quick?”

  “Sure. Here, Maya—I left the paints on the dining room table. Why don’t you go paint your mom a picture of Dolly?”

  “Okay!” She dropped the balloon in the sink with the others and ran off between us.

  “That kid is fast,” Hannah said.

  “No kidding. What’s up?”

  “This kitten.”

  “I thought you fed it once.”

  “I did, but I didn’t see any sign of its mom or anyone owning it, so I fed it again, and now I think it’s adopted me.”

  I fought a smile. “The kitten has adopted you?”

  “Yep. It stayed outside the back door last night crying until I let it inside.”

  “You fed it and let it inside?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then you’re its human now,” I replied simply. “I did the same thing with Mason, and now we’re dating.”

  She bit back a laugh. “This is serious, Immy!”

  “If you don’t want it, give it to Isaac. He’ll know a good rescue that can take it.”

  “A rescue? I thought you’d take it!”

  “I’m not taking your kitten!”

  “It’s not my kitten.”

  “Have you named it?”

  “I call it Lucifer.”

  “Then it’s yours.” I dried my hands and headed out of the bathroom.