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“It means I wouldn’t have said that if I thought you were an open book,” I scoffed. “I don’t understand why you are here with me,” I said, turning my entire body, facing him.
“Why?”
“Would you like me to list off a few things?” I shook my head, folding my arms across my chest.
“Yes.” He turned towards me with his arms crossed.
“What?” I laughed, feeling my cheeks burn a little. His brows rose and he waited to hear what I had to say. “Okay. When we’re in a crowd, you are rude to me, but when we are alone—for instance, right now—you are a completely different person, someone tolerable.”
“That’s not true,” he scoffed, shaking his head.
“Yes, it is, and you know it,” I said
“Prove it.”
“Okay, you have yet to be honest,” I replied.
“When have I not been honest?” He scowled.
“Earlier, when I saw you with that woman who acted as though she was your girlfriend,” I added.
“She is not my girlfriend,” he said, turning away scowling.
“Who is she, then?” I asked.
“Someone my mother wants to set me up with.” He paused. “She thinks I need to settle down and change my wild ways,” he said, air-quoting “wild ways” and chuckling.
Biting my bottom lip, I replied, “Maybe she is right.” I turned to face the water.
“No, she isn’t,” he snapped, and then walked away. It would appear that I had struck a nerve. I had to run a little to catch up to him.
“Well, you do have a reputation around town—”
“I’m well aware of the name I have given myself, Lauren.” He stopped and turned so unexpected that I almost walked into him. He stood close that I felt his warm breath upon my face. I gulped, taking a step back.
“Are you proud of it?” I asked.
His brow furrowed. “No.”
“Then change it,” I replied.
“Why bother?” He shrugged, and then turned away from me.
Shaking my head in disbelief I followed. “Well for starters you should
let people see this side of you. This side is actually likable.” Mason stopped short; his head turned slightly. From his profile I saw his clenched jaw. Then as I approached him, my arm stretching to touch him, he started talking.
“What’s the point?” His tone was dark, angry. I pulled back my arm. “No one will see me as anything but the screw-up, who beds women like it’s a career.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, head hung back.
I stood next to him, appalled. “Wow—I didn’t need to know that,” I replied.
“Why not? You believe it,” he spat and marched away from me.
I tried to keep his pace. “The perception of your character is how you play it out, Mason,” I retorted. “What is it you expect others to think?” He kept walking ignoring me.
I grabbed his arm before he could get too far ahead of me and said, “Mason—”
“Let’s go,” he said spinning around to face me. Then he quickly walked down the cement stairs of the bridge.
