I ran a hand through my hair. “No, I just don’t want her sticking her nose in my business. The only way this is going to work is if I keep a clear line between what’s personal and business. I don’t want her at my parties, and I sure as hell don’t want her meeting people that have nothing to do with the work she’s been hired to do.”
“Fine. But tell me something. What did she do to you to make you hate her this much? Is it really just because she wasn’t happy for you when you told her you were dropping out? Or is it because hating her is easier than examining what you really feel for her?”
My nostrils flared with a hard breath. No matter how close Kaz and I were, he’d never understand what it was like to feel inferior to everyone around you. To be born less than whole. “No,” I said, my voice dropping low. “It’s because she’s a walking reminder of my old self. The self I’ve been working really hard to move on from.”
“You could show her who you are now,” my best friend said. “If you wanted her to know.”
“I don’t want her to know anything.”
Coward, coward, coward.
10
MOLLY
It was Friday evening.Instead of celebrating that I’d survived my first week with Last Rites, my mind was entirely focused on one thing.
Mason had a girlfriend.
I bit on the side of my lip. This was fine. Perfectly fine. Expected, really. Why would a guy like him be single? Especially now that his band was on the brink of success.
She was probably a creative type. A painter or a musician. Maybe a model—rock stars loved those, didn’t they? She and Mason probably met at a party—no, a gallery opening. Not the stuffy kind old people went to, but a hip one in Santa Monica, where the art looked like graffiti, and the hors d’oeuvres were all vegan.
I was so frazzled I nearly ran through a red light.
By the time I scaled the steps to my fourth-floor apartment, my stomach was growling insistently, and I forcefully pushed thoughts of Mason’s model girlfriend out of my head.
My key already clutched in my hand, I hurried to the door. Getting inside as quickly as possible had become a necessary habit after the incident with Cory. I kept my ears peeled for any sounds coming from his apartment as I passed by. A TV was on.
A chill ran down my spine as I struggled to get the key into the rusty lock. Just as I heard the telltale click, the TV volume lowered. I hurried in, locked the door behind me, and hooked the security chain.
Dropping my head back against the door, I took a few deep breaths. The pounding inside my chest seemed to slow down, but there was no denying living like this sucked. I put on a brave face to Piper, but it seemed pointless to lie to myself when I had to scurry inside my own home in order to feel safe.
The clock on my wall read six-thirty. I’d been at the guys’ house for only four hours, and my work for the day was hardly done. It’d been tricky balancing going over there with all the other stuff I still had on my plate. Trinity had cleared up a good chunk of my schedule to give me time for this assignment, but I still had some administrative tasks left. Not to mention editing the thousands of photos I’d gotten over the past week. Trinity was expecting an email from me tonight so that she could review the material.
I tossed my backpack on the couch, popped a frozen meal into the microwave, and went into my bedroom to change into sweats. If I was going to be working late, I may as well be comfortable. This place was becoming more and more unlivable by the day. I needed to keep my focus on that promotion, which meant impressing Trinity. I settled at the dining table with my laptop and camera, ready to dive into the treasure trove of photos.
My breath caught in my throat as the pictures popped up on the screen. I’d been looking at the photos throughout the week on the small camera screen, but seeing them blown up on my laptop was a completely different experience. The first batch was of Kaz playing the guitar. Greedily, my eyes scanned each one.
He was sitting with his instrument, one hand on the neck of the guitar, and the other holding a marbled pick. His expression showed his total concentration, sharpening his features. There was something utterly compelling about the shot. An artist at work. A glimpse into a sacred moment.
“You ever wonder what it would be like to have me kiss you again?”
I closed my eyes and slumped against the backrest. I’d been so worried about working with Mason, I’d only spent a fraction of my time thinking about what it would be like to work with Kaz. The experience had been unexpected. For all of his hostility in the beginning, he seemed to be warming up to me. Maybe a little too hot, too fast.
It scared me that I didn’t entirely hate it.
Getting back to the photos, I tagged the best ones. Some of these felt too raw to post. Like they showed too much for the masses to consume. But that was Trinity’s call to make.
When I got to the shots that included Mason, I released a heavy breath. Why did things feel so strange between us? He was clearly keeping his guard up around me, and sometimes, I got the sense he was afraid. But of what? He had all the power in this situation. What could he possibly be afraid of?
In the photos, his eyes were magnets. When he looked into the camera, they immediately became the focal point, holding the viewer in their azure depths. He was so handsome it was nearly painful to look at him. The medium of the photograph only added to that sensation, reminding the viewer that the subject was completely out of reach.
I finished touching up the handful of photos I wanted to show Trinity, lay down on the couch, and closed my eyes. Anxiousness battled with exhilaration inside my head. Despite the awkwardness between me and the guys, I was enjoying this assignment. I’d pushed my interest in photography aside for years because it seemed like a pursuit that would never give me the financial stability I craved. It was too risky, too likely to end with me asking my sister for help. But now I had a one-off opportunity to flex that creative muscle, and it felt amazing. I was determined to make the most of it.
Something shattered next door. I jumped off the couch in alarm. Cory swore loudly, the sound traveling through our thin walls so well that for a moment I thought he was inside my apartment.
He must have broken a dish. Nothing major. I ran a hand down my chest and sat back down, listening for any other sounds that could spell out trouble for me. Five minutes later, everything had gone quiet, but the fearful knot in my chest wouldn’t leave.
