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I rolled my eyes. “You’re sweet.”
“Seriously. Looking even moderately enthused will do.”
“Yeah, duly noted. How could I say no to such a sweet and sensitive boyfriend?”
Mason smirked as he whipped the black scarf from his neck. “I didn’t realize sweet and sensitive was what you wanted.”
“I think that’s what most girlfriends want, but I understand that you wouldn’t know that,” I replied, averting my eyes as Mason watched me gather my hair over one shoulder.
“Duly noted. If that’s what works with you, then here.” One step forward and Mason was suddenly inches from me. The breath hitched in my throat as he locked his gaze on mine. Shit. I hadn’t expected him to bust out sweet and sensitive so quickly and I wasn’t quite ready for it. I was frozen despite the warmth of his chest as he grabbed my waist, slid his hands down to my hips and pulled me so close that my forehead met his lips. My pulse picked up as Mason pressed a soft kiss to my skin and murmured, “Everything’s fine, Taylor. You have me.” The smooth baritone of his voice was as intoxicating as his scent and it had my lashes fluttering. I didn’t even remember to exhale till he pulled away, eyes glinting as he hit me with that crooked grin full of amusement. “There. How you feeling now?”
I tucked a lock of hair behind my ears. “Dandy,” I managed.
“That works fine for me.”
I could swear by the way he looked at me that Mason knew exactly what the hell he was doing – that he enjoyed making me at least a little uncomfortable, and I found it so damned irritating. But I couldn’t dwell on the thought because it wasn’t long after that that his friends began to roll in, starting a big round of introductions. Immediately, everything on my body was shaking – my hands, my knees, my attempt at a charming smile. I was so intensely nervous for everyone’s reception to our coupling, but while there was some brief gawking and a couple raised eyebrows, no one said anything that even bordered on out of line. The worst comment came from a cute ballerina-looking girl who said merrily that I traded up, and that finally made me laugh and relax a bit. I was even able to talk with convincing breeziness about how I was so okay now, and how Aaron leaving was an absolute shock but “recent developments” had me recovering at a much quicker speed than expected. That line, of course, came with a loving glance at Mason.
Not the worst, Taylor. B-plus, I had to commend myself. I was doing slowly better. Still, as we sat, Mason kept his hand wrapped around mine, squeezing every time it started to shake again, which was generally when someone spoke to me about the wedding.
“Jesus Christ. Easy,” Mason said as Sofia led the rest of the table into some heated conversation about politics. Her least favorite subject, but she’d caught a few of my anxious looks and I knew she was doing her best to draw attention away from me. I thanked God for that – and the fact that Mason was being borderline kind to me right now. “Taylor, everything’s fine. You did great just now. You can relax.”
“I am relaxed,” I said, though I could see him dubiously eyeing my bouncing knee. Reaching across my lap, he squeezed it firmly, nearly stopping my heart with his thumb pressed against my inner thigh, his hand rubbing slow circles till I finally stopped shaking.
“What are you so anxious about?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“I can’t put my finger on it,” I murmured, avoiding his eye. “I guess I didn’t really think about how scary it would be to actually come out to people as your girlfriend – people who kind of know who I am. I feel like they’re judging me. They think I’m sleeping with you now when I was engaged to Aaron nine weeks ago.”
“You still waited longer than he did to move on.”
The words stung for a second but I moved past it. “Yeah well, girls get more flack for everything. Double standards, slut shaming. All that jazz.”
“I wouldn’t argue that.”
I turned to him. “No?”
“You look surprised.”
I took a second to assess my reaction. “I guess I didn’t expect that from someone who treats women like they’re…” I trailed off, feeling for the first time kind of bad about trashing Mason.
“Treat women like they’re what?” he asked.
“Disposable.”
Mason raised his eyebrows and leaned back as if settling in for this conversation. “And how exactly do I do that?” he asked, withdrawing his hand from my knee. I blinked down at the sudden loss of his touch. I hated the cold void it left on my skin.
“Well… I’ve heard many a story about girls you’ve humiliated without so much as batting an eye. Stuff about having more than one date lined up for an event, going with whoever wore the tighter dress. Ignoring girls you’ve been with in the past when you see them in public. Taking some poor woman for a weekend in Lake Como and sending her home after meeting an Italian supermodel.”
Mason laughed. “Fuck, that’s cold.”
“Uh, yeah. I’d agree.”
“It also never happened, Taylor,” Mason said, his eyes incredulous on me. “I did take someone to Lake Como for a weekend last year but she was the Italian model. She flew home alone because she had work in Milan and I had work in New York. But we both left pretty pleased with our weekends,” he explained, sending shame to my cheeks. “Now that I’ve clarified that particular crock of shit, may I ask who you even heard it from?”
I chewed my lip back. One or two stories came from Sofia, who was often left to comfort the girls Mason suddenly stopped texting after a week of passion. But the main perpetrator of Mason rumors was of course Aaron, and suddenly I felt stupid admitting that my intel came from someone whose love-hate relationship with his brother leaned almost always toward the latter, and mostly due to jealousy he couldn’t even try to hide.
“I think you can guess who told me,” I finally said.
“Yeah, that little shit. I’ll give him credit though. Pitting two girls against each other in some kind of out-sexing competition is definitely a compelling idea.”
