by Stella Rhys
And there it was. The passive aggressiveness she was so very famous for.
“Well. You know.” A strained smile stretched my lips. “It’s been two months. Can’t be sad the rest of my life.”
“Oh, that is such a good attitude, darling. You seriously have the best attitude,” Whitney marveled, pulling away to flash me big Bambi eyes. “God, Tay, I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you but now that you’ve seen me here, you probably know I’m shopping to go to Aaron’s wedding.”
It was my turn for the Bambi eyes.
Fuck.
Seriously, Aaron? He didn’t have the decency to tell me he was getting married but he did invite the woman who’d almost come between us two years ago – who reminded me of the worst night of my life, the worst decision of my life and all the pain that followed after. Blinking hard, I gathered myself, refusing to give Whitney the pleasure of my rattled expression.
“Oh, that’s… fine, Whitney,” I said, my throat tight.
“No. It’s so not. And I can tell you don’t mean that,” she sighed, exaggerating a frown. But I could see the ends of her lips quivering with amusement as she soaked in my thinly veiled fury. “It’s just I’ve always had such a bond with Aaron. We were so close. You know that,” she pouted, using that baby voice I’d heard so many times before – on the phone during those nights when she’d call Aaron at one, two, even three in the morning. “Work stuff,” Aaron always said. But then that shitstorm of a night happened. The one I’d rather not think about again.
Especially now.
Swallowing hard, I found my words and gave Whitney a shrug. “It’s your life, Whitney. Do whatever you want. You always have.”
“Ooh,” she gasped, her dark eyes gleaming. “Are we getting catty yet?”
I made a face. “Is that what you were hoping for?”
“Well, you know. You’ve always been all prim, proper and prudish. It’d be nice to see you get a little nasty for once,” she giggled, biting her lip. “God knows you’ll need to offer the boys something to get back into the dating game.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
Whitney feigned a nervous laugh. “Did I hit a nerve? Oh, Tay, don’t be sad. You’ll rebound eventually.” She puckered her glossy lips. “Probably not with anyone as cute as Aaron, but hey – you were kind of dating up with him to begin with.”
Wow. You have got to be kidding me. With a laugh of sheer disbelief, I shook my head at Whitney, refusing to engage any further. Turning around, I looked desperately for the salesgirl. When I caught her passing the hallway, I quickly flagged her down, breathing out in relief as she flurried over to zip my dress. I thanked her quietly, facing decidedly away from Whitney who still stood there with a big, fake smile on her lips. It only spread wider as the salesgirl struggled to zip my dress.
“Excuse her. Tay’s been digging into those post-breakup Oreos, if you know what I mean.” Whitney winked at the poor salesgirl who frowned deeply at her before flashing me a look of shock mixed with apology. It helped. Kind of. But before I could even recover from the first insult, Whitney hit me again. “Don’t sweat the dress, Tay. Bit too sexy for you to pull off, anyway,” she said, tossing another wink my way. And with that, she waltzed back into her dressing room.
After reassuring the salesgirl that I was done trying things on, I skulked back into mine. Shutting the door, I plopped down in the tufted white chair and stared at the wall, willing myself not to indulge in all the dark thoughts that Whitney never failed to trigger. It was dangerous to sink into that place in my mind because it was filled with nothing but what-ifs and regret – all the pain I could have avoided if I could just get that one week, maybe just that one night of my life back. Even before Aaron left, the thoughts plagued me. Now that he was gone, they haunted me, choosing random times of the day to flash behind my eyes and bounce wildly around in my head, reminding me of everything I lost before I lost even Aaron.
Okay, stop, Taylor. Breathe, I scolded myself, squeezing my eyes shut. Think happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy –
“Omigod!”
My eyes fluttered, Whitney’s squealing voice snapping me out of my daze.
“Oh. My. God,” she continued with her signature exaggeration. “How did I get so lucky? And more importantly, what are you doing here?”
I blinked again but when I heard the rich voice that answered her question, my hand flew to my mouth.
“I don’t know. What are you doing here?” Mason countered teasingly, his audible smirk telling me that her arms were already wrapped tightly around him. Holy shit, Mase, yes. Still clutching the front of my dress to my chest, I stood eagerly at the door, my negative thoughts fading fast as I realized what kind of sick, twisted fun I could have with the scene unfolding outside.
“Oh, you know, Mase. Just shopping for dresses so I can go to your brother’s wedding to your ex. Scandalous, by the way, but I love how you clearly don’t give a rat’s ass,” Whitney giggled. I clenched my jaw as I heard her smack Mason somewhere on his body. It sounded hard. Probably his chest. “Fun to be the hotter, richer one, huh? You can just watch lil’ bro marry your girl and let that shit roll off your back ‘cause you can always get someone hotter.”
“You’re not wrong about that.”
Whitney purred and lowered her voice. “Hotter with better tits and new tricks in bed.” Holy shit. She was really going for it. “Seen anyone lately who might fit that bill? Someone… in this store, perhaps? Standing very close to you?”
Mason’s voice returned with a smooth laugh just as a text buzzed in my phone. Grabbing it out of my purse, I heard him say, “Actually, yes,” just as I read the message on my phone.
Wherever the hell you are please come to the dressing rooms and save me.
I clamped my hand over my mouth to suppress my giant snort. My pulse picking up, I took in a deep breath, mentally switching gears and getting ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. Fluffing my hair, I exhaled steadily and finally swung open the door.
The satisfaction was instant as I locked eyes on Mason and his unblinking stare.
In less than a second, it found me, fixed on me, and refused to let go, moving greedily up the length of my legs before tracing the flare of my hips and the dip of my waist. I couldn’t even suppress the satisfaction spreading my lips as I watched the notorious Mason Leo try but fail several times to simply say something.
“Christ, Taylor,” he finally muttered, dragging his hand across his jaw and studying me, looking so convincingly tortured I had to chew my giant grin back. Eyeing Whitney, I found her simply standing there, mouth parted and eyes narrowed but unblinking, her attention flicking back and forth between us till she noticed my smile. A scowl formed quickly.
“Are you… here together or something?” she asked begrudgingly.
I flashed a placid smile. “Mm-hm,” I said before turning my exaggerated doe eyes to Mason. “Think I should buy this – babe?”
He ignored my act to continue staring at me. “I think you know the answer to that,” he said, something oddly tantalizingly about how his voice sounded hard and for once humorless. Wetting his lips, Mason tilted his head just so. “Can you turn for me?” he asked softly – and so politely I practically forgot where I was. But I came right back to Earth when Whitney jumped at her chance to cut in.
“It won’t even zip on her,” she blurted. But then her lashes fluttered when Mason looked at her and she gave a breathy giggle to remind him of her daintiness. Though he blinked at her for a second, Mason quickly returned his attention to me, drawing closer till there was barely six inches of space between us. I barely had to fake my reaction when his crooked smirk spread into a grin, mischief flickering in his blue eyes as he murmured low but loud enough for Whitney to hear.
“Turn around for me, baby.”
His words sent a quick ripple of chills up my arms, but shaking my head at him, I gave a little laugh. “Baby,” I whispered mockingly before gathering my
hair over my shoulder and turning around. Gripping the edge of the doorframe, I looked into my dressing room mirror, watching through the reflection as Mason positioned himself behind me. God, the man was tall. Shameless too, with the way he cocked his head to drag his heavy gaze up the length of my naked backside. I was so ready to say something smart, but suddenly he shut me up, yanking my dress tight, grabbing my zipper and somehow pulling it up with barely any effort at all. A tiny gasp parted my lips but once he let go, I breathed and realized despite its tightness, the dress fit me perfectly.
And judging from the way Mason was looking at me in it, it was the one.
“Um.” Whitney searched for something disruptive to say but came up short. She had to be a masochist, continuing to stand there as Mason locked his eyes on mine through the reflection of the mirror and shook his head. Rubbing the back of his neck, he groaned.
“Yeah, let’s get you home so I can fucking rip this thing off put my hands all over you.”
My eyebrows shot up. Well then. “Funny you should say that,” I smiled, my fingertips absently tracing the curve of my sweetheart neckline. “Because Whitney actually said it was too sexy for me to pull off.”
Mason raised his eyebrows, glanced at Whitney’s beet red mortification and then returned those blue eyes to me. “I’m sure what she meant was that it’s too sexy for me not to pull off of you. Now for Christ’s sake, get changed so I can take you home and throw you on my fucking bed.”
God, yes. A-fucking-plus, Mason.
With that bit of filth, Whitney finally stalked right back into her dressing room. Hand over my mouth, I recouped, reveling in what just happened and letting myself giggle under my breath as I turned to face Mason. “Well done,” I mouthed, arms crossed with content as I leaned back against the wall, listening to Whitney hastily gather her things and zip up her coat before marching straight out of the dressing area in a huff, without so much as a look in either of our directions. Wearing that crooked grin on his lips, Mason waited till she was out of the store to respond.
“Not sure what you’re referring to.”
“‘Let’s go home’?” I smirked. “Like we live together.”
“Well that half of the sentence was certainly a lie,” he said.
I paused for a moment. “Mm.” I wiggled my lips to the side, deciding not to acknowledge his suggestion that the latter half of his sentence was true. If Mason genuinely wanted to rip my dress off, I genuinely didn’t want to know. I had no place in my head for that kind of information. Arms still crossed, I changed the subject. “So, is this the part where you charge all this stuff to your account?” I asked lamely.
“Do you have everything you need for St. Lucia?”
“If I buy all the dresses I tried on today, I have more than enough.”
Mason cocked an eyebrow. “Swimwear?”
“I have swimsuits at home.”
“The point is to get new things Aaron’s never seen before,” Mason said, his eyes skimming the sweetheart neck of my dress. He laughed when I played with my hair to block his view of my cleavage. “This isn’t an attempt to con my way into watching you get naked and try on bikinis, Taylor. I just want you to get my brother’s attention because that’s the plan. If you want privacy, I can easily leave again. I do have a lot of work to do at the office.”
I blushed despite myself. “That’s not it,” I lied, suddenly confused and not at all sure why. “I just don’t want you spending any more money here. I can get good bikinis that don’t cost four hundred dollars a piece, okay?” I laughed. “I’ll just have Sofia take me somewhere. She’s the queen of shopping for this kind of stuff.”
Mason let his gaze linger on me for a second before saying, “Okay.” Unless I imagined it, there was a hint of knowing smugness in his smile before he turned to walk away and find the salesgirl. Once he was out of sight, I groaned inwardly, raking my hand through my hair and trying to figure out what was weird about our conversation just now. But I couldn’t. The weirdness just hung in the air, leaving me feeling vaguely unsettled despite the fact that I’d just recorded a hands-down win against Whitney Frickin’ Decker.
As Mason paid for my things, I stayed in the fitting room with the salesgirl, who helped me out of my dress. She was quiet as she unzipped me and slipped all my new dresses into black garment bags, but once she was done and I was back to my usual sweater and jeans, she dared to flash a sly look. “This is our first time seeing Mr. Leo in the store,” she said quietly. “He never actually comes in to shop, so… you must be a special one.”
I laughed. “A special case, that’s for sure.”
“Well, whatever it is, he’s… very handsome. So it must be fun,” she whispered as she walked me out toward Mason, who waiting for me at the counter, his black pea coat on again and its sharp collar turned up to skim his jaw. He was on the phone with the office so I took the moment to study him without his knowing, realizing that – ugh. Even if I didn’t say it aloud, I did have to admit it to just myself: So far, faking it with Mason was actually kind of fun.
Chapter Six
Monday lunch with Sofia was a necessity for both of us, and it started with her confessing three things: one, that she already knew about my “new fling,” two, that she shamelessly approved, and three, she too would be attending Aaron’s wedding to Eva.
“I’m sorry, Taylor! I swear to God I was torturing myself trying to figure out how to tell you, and I promise I’m still going to punch him in the mouth when I see him, even if it’s on the day of his wedding and then I have to do his fucking makeup after to cover it up,” she rambled and cringed at once, her fingers thrust in her copper hair. “I just had to go because my family was pressuring me to so I could get the scoop on what the hell Aaron’s even thinking. And my agency would kill me if I said no to that… sweet, sweet, Tully money.”
I burst out laughing. “Hey, someone needs to do the bride’s makeup. And money is money, so I get it,” I said truthfully, reaching across our Benedicts to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
I couldn’t stay mad at the girl. Sofia Ricardi was the youngest cousin of the Leo brothers and my best friend since I started dating Aaron three years ago. While Aaron and Sofia had always been close, our bond quickly surpassed theirs the moment we met, which started with me breathing, “Your eyebrows are perfect.” The second Sofia revealed she did makeup for a living, my girly side awakened with the giggly force of a thousand rainbows, and since then, we’d been practically sisters. In fact, she was the sole reason I even survived the weeks after Aaron left. Aside from swearing to cause him physical harm upon their next meeting, she brought me wine and dinner several days a week, even wrapping my couch with a fitted sheet and comforter when I insisted on sleeping there instead of the bed.
Despite Mason’s insistence, I honestly couldn’t imagine keeping our fake relationship a secret from Sofia. But the task became a little easier when I heard she’d be coming with us to St. Lucia. The idea of everyone watching Mason and me act like a loving new couple was daunting enough, so I definitely didn’t need Sofia constantly peering at me and giggling about how convincing I was, teasing me about how I totally had a crush on Mason or whatever. It was actually simpler to let the crush ship sail and just pretend we were real.
Plus, it meant I could just go ahead and talk about how hot things got at the store yesterday.
I had to tell the story. It was an undeniably good one and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a teensy bit turned on by the filth that came out of Mason’s mouth when he saw me in that dress. I just reasoned that at least half the tingly thrill came from the fact that we’d teamed up to knock Whitney down several pegs, so it wasn’t anything to be worried about. It was just a fun little act. Besides, there was no woman in the world who wouldn’t be somewhat to completely titillated by the idea of Mason Leo wanting to tear her clothes off. So that was my defense.
Sofia was giving me a hard time about it though.
“Ew, can yo
u stop?”
“What?”
“I can tell you’re thinking about Mason right now and trust me, I’m used to sex conversations with you that involve one of my cousins, but I don’t know if I can handle the way you’re squirming right now.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not. I’ve definitely never seen you relive a memory so good that you started making sex faces right in public.”
“Sof! Gross.”
“You’re telling me! I’m the one who has to look at this shit,” she said with a dramatic shudder. “But it’s fine. Now I know to tell the resort to put me in a room way down the hall from you and Mase. I should probably tell them to order a couple extra headboards while I’m at it.”
My cheeks burned. “Okay, let’s… please never talk about the prospect of me and Mason having sex,” I said, failing to recognize my slip-up till Sofia made a funny face at me.
“Uh… why? You’re dating Mason now. Sex is going to happen,” she pointed out blankly. Oops. Shit. “I mean do you really feel that guilty about being with him?”
I blinked. “Yes,” I said eagerly. “Yes, I do.”
“Well, don’t. Aaron basically gave you the freedom to do whatever you want with the stunt he pulled and that includes boinking his brother, so boink away. And while we’re on this topic, can I just say that I’m ridiculously happy for you two? As fucked up as it is, I kind of always hoped… even when you were still with Aaron… that you and Mase might become a thing someday.”
I had to laugh in her face. “Wait, what? Why?”
“Because under all the hate, I feel like you guys were totally meant for each other!” she said, arms crossed with her nose in the air.
“Yeah, the few times we even spoke, it was all snark so now you’re just talking out of your ass.”
“Hey, there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Sofia sassed. “You should know better than anyone considering how weird things got with you and Aaron before he even left.”
