Page 93 of Untroubled Heart

Beth lets out a screeching gasp of outrage. “As if I’d give him the pleasure.”

I chuckle, finish up my business, then step out of the stall. A blonde woman is observing her reflection in the mirror. I offer her a brief smile as I wash my hands.

“Just once to get it out of your system? There’s a fine line between love and hate.” I try to ignore the way I can feel the woman’s eyes on me.

“Maybe,” Beth says, joining me at the next sink. “But the line between hate and loathing is thick.” Beth washes her hands, eyes flicking to the other woman, who’s still watching me. It’s starting to get weird.

Thankfully, she flicks her long, blonde ponytail over her shoulder before strutting out the door, leaving Beth and me alone.

“Wow. Hostile much.” Beth widens her eyes, then fixes her hair and smooths out her black tennis skirt. “Okay, let’s get this night over with.” She hooks her arm through mine, leading us out.

“I’m so happy my brother has found you, but if he wants to continue to double date, he’s going to have to ask Gage or Caleb.” Beth tilts her head. “Wait, but then I want to see Iz and Lex. I don’t want to be left out cos I’m the only single one.”

“Looks like you’ll just have to find a way to get along with Tristan,” I tease, my eyes falling to the guys once we reach the courts. Unease coils in my gut when I see who Mason and Tristan are talking to.

It’s the blonde woman from the bathroom. Her boobs bulge over the neckline of her hot pink dress, looking way too comfortable as she laughs and places a hand over Mason’s arm. He gives her a tight smile back as he glances at Tristan.

Tristan rolls his eyes, then nudges his shoulder against Mason’s when he sees us coming. “Hey, you ready for another round?” he calls.

Mason’s head snaps to mine, and he pulls away from the girl. Does he know her?

“Hey, baby. You’re gonna pair up with Tristan now, and I’ll play with Beth.”

“Ugh, so now I have to look directly at his face?” Beth grimaces, reaching for her water bottle.

“Don’t act like you don’t picture my face when you’re alone.”

“The world would be a happier place if more women sat on men’s faces,” Beth says with a sigh. “At least they’d be too busy to talk.”

“Are you offering?” Tristan grins, holding his racket across his shoulders and making his biceps flex.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I prefer my thrones a little more rugged.” Beth tosses her drink bottle back in her bag and heads onto the court, while the blonde girl still hovers around us, staring between me and Mason.

“I like them clean-shaven,” she says, eyes boring into Mason as she slowly steps away, flicking me a challenging glance before she turns.

Maybe it’s a coincidence. Finding her here, flirting with my boyfriend, but the fact that she wouldn’t stop staring at me in the bathroom makes her sudden appearance now feel all the more intentional.

“Friend of yours?” I say, and the familiar burn of jealousy feels heavy on my chest.

Mason shakes his head. “Just someone from around the club. She works at the front desk.”

I’m being paranoid.

The times when Derek would brush off my insecurities when women flirted with him, right in front of me, rearing its ugly head. Of course, he would dismiss my feelings only for me to discover I was right to question him.

“It’s okay if you’ve hooked up with her,” I say, even if I don’t really want to know. I just want the unwelcome anxiety to go away. I know Mason’s nothing like Derek, but sometimes wounds don’t heal completely. Sometimes they deceive you, lying dormant in the background.

“We all have a past.” I shrug.

But it’s one thing to know your partner has a past, and another to have them walk right up to you in all their perky-bosomed glory.

Mason wraps an arm behind my back, pulling me into his chest. “I only care about your future,” he says, running his nose along my jaw. “Don’t worry about Emilia. She just works here, and she always flirts. Besides—” He presses a kiss behind my ear, then hits me with his duo-coloured eyes. “You’re the only one here stirring up trouble and corrupting me in the dressing rooms.”

I push his chest with a laugh. “That was you!”

He winks and pulls off his hat, followed by his shirt.

“What are you doing?” I stare at his smooth chest, covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his gold chain shimmering under the court lights with every breath.