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She stared out at the pastures that spread out before her. What was it about Mason that made her want to change for the better? It wasn’t a crush—for though he was reasonably attractive, she’d never stoop so low as to change her personality for a guy. It had to be something else.
Spinning around so she faced the house, she noticed the kitchen table was now vacant. Mason had left—probably to get more work done. Or he’d gone to tend to her uncle. Either way, she was no longer pinned beneath his stare. Her sigh eased the tension in her chest as her head continued to argue what sort of insanity she was currently dealing with.
Maybe she’d become terminally ill. That would explain her sudden longing to leave the dark side. Harley gnawed on her lower lip. This change wasn’t a bad thing. And for all she knew, it was temporary. The second she left this place, everything could very well return to normal.
Her eyes drifted to the vacant chair where Mason had been seated. He stirred something within her that hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. It had merely given her a momentary crisis of identity. She was still Harley Pembrooke. She still had a plan. But perhaps she could amend the how of that plan.
No longer hungry, Harley headed inside to clean up lunch. Then she’d track Mason down and pretend whatever had happened during lunch was all a dream.
* * *
Harley put the last dish in the dishwasher, shut it and pressed the button. Every muscle in her body ached from the day they’d had. For some reason she couldn’t decipher, she’d continued to push herself harder and harder just to keep up with Mason. Maybe she wanted to show him she was just as good as he was. Maybe she wanted to impress him. Or maybe she was just tired of people underestimating her abilities—including herself.
She rubbed her left shoulder with her right hand as she tilted her head from side to side. If this was what she had to look forward to for the rest of her summer, she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to do it. At some point she was certain she’d burn out.
That was fine. For now, she was trying to prove something, and she was okay with that.
Her thoughts shifted to her uncle. She hadn’t gone into the other room to visit with him since Mason had set him up. He hadn’t ventured out into the rest of the house since that first dinner either.
Something told her that it was for the best. They didn’t have the best relationship at the moment. If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that no one had a great relationship with her.
Harley scowled, pushing aside yet another disparaging thought. Since when had she started judging herself so harshly? She couldn’t recall a moment in her life when she had taken a good, hard look at her weaknesses. Not even when her mother was lecturing her on the way she’d styled her hair in junior high.
She took a deep breath and expelled it. Even if Mason wasn’t going to follow his own rules, she would. No more letting her past define her. Starting here and now, she was going to be a better version of herself—at least until she found her way out of this ridiculous phase.
With the lights flipped off and the house quiet except for the television coming from her uncle’s room, Harley headed toward the stairs only to stumble to a complete stop. Mason sat on the living room couch with his back to her. The only light on was the one that glowed just over his left shoulder. His head was turned down—reading a book, no doubt.
Harley took a step toward the stairs, then hesitated. That strange feeling that pulled on her whenever he was around called to her. Even if she’d wanted to head up the stairs to her room, her feet weren’t going to allow it and she found herself wandering into the living room.
She passed Mason and headed straight for the bookshelf, peeking over her shoulder as she did. Sure enough, Mason was reading one of those books he constantly had at his fingertips. He didn’t even bother looking up as she passed. Harley stood at the bookshelf, glancing in his direction every few minutes, wondering what was so interesting about his book that he could sit so still after a day like they’d had. He wasn’t even reclining.
“What do you want, Harley?” Mason said quietly as he turned a page.
“I didn’t say anything,” she said simply.
“No, but you’re hovering.”
“I’m not hovering.”
Mason lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Yes, you are.”
She flushed. “Fine. I was wondering what you were reading.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Harley skipped closer and plopped herself beside him. “It does to me.”
Snapping the book shut, he got to his feet. “No, it doesn’t. It’s just a book. I don’t ask you what you like watching on television or what music you like to listen to.”
She peered up at him, still seated on the couch. “But you could.”
“That’s beside the point. I don’t share what I read with others.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
He didn’t answer right away. There was a definite hesitation on his part that was almost comical.
Her eyes dipped to the book in his hands, but she couldn’t see the title. “It’s one of those sci-fi books, isn’t it?”
