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The sound of heels clicking against the tiles distracts me as Presley walks in with dessert. The homemade cheesecake with strawberries on top looks divine. Haden is right behind Presley when I overhear him mention something about how mouth-watering they look, only for Presley to giggle and slap his arm.
Cruz’s entrance is even louder. “Fuck yes, I’ve been missing your food, Mom.”
As for me, my stomach is full of something.
Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
Some may describe the feeling as fluttering, like butterflies stuck in captivity.
And across the table, Masen continues to watch me with a profound stare. A stare so intense, I’m forced to look away to control this nonsense overcoming me. I blame our heated argument, or maybe I’m triggered by our past.
Either way, my body is betraying me.
And no chance in hell Masen Cooper is responsible for any of this.
Five
Addison
Masen left his parents’ house without a goodbye.
I’d excused myself to use the bathroom, then when I returned, Cruz expressed his joy over his brother’s sudden departure. Apparently, waiting five minutes to say goodbye to a guest as common courtesy is lost on the arrogant jerk.
Presley mentions something about an event he has to attend tonight, trying to defend her son. However, Haden’s smirk tells a different story. But, of course, the player is busy playing his so-called field of women.
Why should I care anyway?
You don’t care. Period.
With Masen gone, the tension eases, and we enjoy the time chatting about life in general. Every now and then, my mind drifts back to our conversation, to how his eyes watched me with such intent. When I find myself falling into some weird headspace, I turn to look at Cruz to bring me back to reality.
It’s just after nine when we decide to leave since Cruz needs to be up at the crack of dawn for training. Presley insists we take food home, which we both welcome since we haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.
Cruz wastes his breath on listing everything wrong he possibly can about his brother on the ride home. So much for trying to forget about him. Cruz is making it impossible, and their sibling rivalry only intensifies every time they’re in the same space together. At least, that’s what it feels like.
“The guy is so far up his ass. I swear you can’t even talk to him,” Cruz continues to rant, clutching at the steering wheel. “I mean, so what if he gets all the pussy. He can’t hold a conversation to save his fucking life.”
My gaze is fixated on the dark, windy road ahead of us. After tonight, I’m not sure what to think. Obviously, he managed to hold a conversation with me, though the topic in question was controversial. Sure, I’d never slept with a man who has a piercing, so technically, I can’t have an opinion. Yet his comment on me not being satisfied was uncalled for.
I’ve had sex with men, four to be exact, and I can list what went wrong every time it happened. So, the conclusion is—sex is overrated.
As for Cruz’s comment about all the women Masen sleeps with, it’s expected, I guess, given how good-looking he is. His arrogant persona is a magnet for women though it’s unhealthy and toxic if I really analyze it.
The more Cruz talks about Masen, the angrier I get. Okay, he has lots of sex. I don’t care. That’s why this is bothering me. It’s a waste of my goddamn time and energy.
I turn to face the passenger window instead to clear my thoughts, but Cruz continues to talk without a care in the world.
“And what about his fucking comment, huh? Like he’s Dad and Mom’s favorite.”
“That was you.”
Cruz turns his head in my direction. “What, you’re defending him now?”
A heavy sigh escapes me. “I’m not defending him, but you’re no saint either. The moment he walked in, you started attacking and—”
“Because the guy is a jerk.”
“Maybe so, but you equally contributed to the energy tonight,” I tell him openly. “Now, can we stop talking about him?”
