CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ally

Sometime in the small hours of the night, I'm awoken by Mason thrashing in the bed. I emerge from the fog of sleep and hear him muttering something. He's not awake, not aware of what he's saying. I can just make it out, the word no, and something about not letting him die . His skin is clammy with sweat when I move closer to him, and he's still thrashing from side to side. I bring my hands to his head and hold him close to my chest, stroking his hair, his face, the rough stubble on his jaw scratching my hand. His dark waves have fallen over his face and are stuck to his forehead. I gently comb them back with my fingers. Mason's thrashing subsides as he comes to.

"It's just a dream," I whisper, reorienting him back to reality. "You're safe, Mason. It's just a dream."

"I let him die." His voice is just a whimper and his body shudders as he releases his tears.

"It's okay, it's not real." I run my hand through his hair, a gentle way of bringing him out of his sleep. On instinct, I plant my lips on his temple. "It's not real."

"It was real. It happened. I let him die." I can't tell if Mason is awake or still stuck in that place between a dream and reality. I know Mason has seen some horrific things in his career, and the trauma still haunts him.

"It's okay. I'm right here, Mason." The reminder of my presence makes me wonder how many nights Mason wakes up like this alone. An ache sits heavy in my chest. For as long as I live, I never want Mason to wake up alone.

I lean down and brush my lips across his mouth. I would do anything in this moment to take away whatever's tormenting him in his dreams. His cheeks are wet with tears, but his sobs no longer wrack his body. His lips return my kiss. It's gentler this time, softer than our kiss the other night in the office, and not as hurried. Our lips move lazily together as if they too are half in and out of sleep.

Mason wraps his arms around me and pulls me down so my head comes to rest just below his chin, and he drifts back off to sleep. His breath evens out, peaceful and rhythmic, and I lay awake in the dark listening to it for some time.

Hudson shows up as expected at seven, jumps the battery in the Jeep, and we're on our way home. Mason and I sit in silence for the drive back to the cabin, neither of us quite knowing how to address the events of the previous night. I can't be sure that Mason even remembers me kissing him. Perhaps it's best if he didn't. We could forget about it and carry on with our day, pretending nothing ever happened.

The memory of his lips meeting mine sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. It's a feeling that confirms the worst. I'm never going to forget about that kiss. The way his mouth was salty with the tears that rolled down his cheek. How his body softened into mine as he kissed me back. He held me in his arms for the rest of the night until we both awoke this morning and untangled our limbs from each other.

He gives me the day off work and says I did overtime last night. A pit forms in my stomach. Mason could have given me the day off to avoid me, to avoid talking about last night.The air between us isn't tense, it isn't cold, but it is … distant, restrained. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's for the best. I don't regret kissing Mason last night, but I'm definitely giving him mixed signals. I told him that I didn't want to cross the line between a fake and real relationship, so I need to hold firm on that.

I start the shower as soon as I get home. There's a part of me that doesn't want to shower, even though I need to. Mason's earthy smell is still on my skin, and something about the spicy pine scent makes me want to savour it, linger in it.

Later that evening, Poppy sits on a bar stool at my little kitchen island, watching me cook dinner for her, chin propped in her hands. I've started to enjoy her company more and more and the way she's sitting here in the cabin now, there's an ease between us.

"How did everything go last night? Did you end up getting home?" she asks as she takes a sip of the wine I just poured for her. I'm cooking my favourite curry recipe for her and the smell of the spices fills the cabin, making my mouth water. Reggie gave me a bag of fresh tomatoes before we left which I've used in the sauce and it's divine.

I'm glad to have a friend in town that I can invite over for a girls' night, though my heart aches thinking about Spencer. The time change between here and Amsterdam has really impeded our regular phone calls, and I feel like there's a piece of my heart missing. But Poppy has been gracious and sweet. A pang of guilt stabs through my gut when I remember that I've been lying to her about Mason and me. I've been lying to everyone in Heartwood. It didn't bother me so much before, but as I've grown closer to Poppy and Winnie, and started to think of Heartwood as my home, I hate the deception.

"This morning, yeah. Hudson came and picked us up," I explain.

"So, you spent the night in a secluded house in the woods? Sounds romantic." Poppy swoons. I can't keep this secret from her anymore. Not if I'm going to make genuine friendships. I can trust Poppy, I'm sure I can. She tends to keep to herself, and she doesn't strike me as the type to stir up drama.

"Less romantic than you'd imagine," I start.

"Oh, does Mason snore?" Poppy giggles, bringing her hand to cover her red-painted lips. The colour is striking against her pale skin and dark features. "I bet he snores."

"No, Poppy. He doesn't snore." He's actually really nice to sleep next to . "We're just … not together."

"What? Like, you haven't had the talk yet? The ‘defining the relationship' talk? I mean, it's still early days."

"No, I mean, we're not dating at all." Poppy blinks her big doe eyes at me, trying to comprehend, so I take the moment to fill her in on the events of the last few days, explaining why we aren't as lovey-dovey as she assumed. I feel like I'm telling my child that mommy and daddy are divorcing. She's bummed. The pout that forms on her lips shows it, but she takes it in stride.

"Well, how are things going at the clinic? Now I need to know everything." She takes a long sip of her wine. "I assumed he would have been nice to you at work. I have to try to wrap my mind around this."

"It's gotten better. Dr. Dickbag has been … less of a … dickbag." Poppy snorts at the name and just about chokes on her wine.

"Dr. Dickbag is a fitting name. I'm going to write that on his to-go cup the next time he comes in for a coffee."

"Don't!" I shriek, laughter erupting from me as the rice I'm cooking boils over on the stove. "Shit!" I move it from the burner and regain control of the situation. "But seriously, don't. I'm making some decent headway with him. We've graduated from a fake couple to, I don't know, friends?" I scrunch my face like I'm waiting for Poppy to say that's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard.

I leave out the part about Mason kissing me in the clinic, and about me kissing him while we shared a bed last night. We both agreed that kissing is impulsive and that it should never happen again. Well, I told Mason it should never happen again. The way his shoulders had sagged when I pulled away from him in his office told a different story on his end. One that is difficult for me to make sense of. Not to mention the tension between us last night that buzzed with electrifying energy.The way his hips shifted as I read my smutty book aloud gave me a glimpse in my periphery of his length, hardening in his jeans.

I also leave out the part about him taking a private meeting with some stuffy pantsuit in his office. The way he pushed me out of the office before shutting the door made the hair on my arms stand on end. How he dodged all of my questions about it afterward. He was being shifty, and it reminded me of Nate.Explaining what Mason and I are now, it's impossible. So, friends will do for now.

"Mason is just overprotective of that clinic. He sees that you fit in well here, and you have something to offer."

"Thanks, Pops." The nickname slid out before it registered, but I see how it makes Poppy smile. "I hope he does. I want to make a go of this. I love being able to make a real difference for people."

"Why did you leave your labour and delivery job in Vancouver, anyway?" Poppy's chestnut bob swishes as she cocks her head to the side.

"It was for the show. And then Nate didn't agree with me when I said I wanted to go back to work. Our schedule was so busy with social events after filming, and networking events for his job."

"So, he got to carry on building his own career after filming, but you didn't?"She scoffs.

"No, I mean. It wasn't like that. His business was struggling. Clients were unhappy, and he was having a hard time bringing in new business. He got a couple of scathing complaints to the Better Business Bureau and was drawing all kinds of unwanted attention. It made sense that I would help him out. He said it was good for business having me at networking events because I'm friendly and I'm social."

"Sounds like he was using you."

"Oh, he was. He is. He's still hoping that I'll go back to the city with him. It won't reflect well on him if I don't."

"So, you told him you were dating Mason to avoid the confrontation," she says, everything clicking into place. I nod.

"Mason gave me a week to convince Nate to leave. I've already overstepped that deadline."

"What are you going to do?" Poppy asks, her dark, round eyes wide. She's beautiful in a doll-like way.

"You tell me." I shrug."I am doubtful that Mason will extend our agreement."

"He's just wary. The last time he got involved with someone, it didn't end well, like catastrophic, and the whole town found out about it," Poppy explains. I take a long pull of my wine. Kissing Mason last night didn't feel like kissing someone who has sworn off relationships. Not with the way he kissed me back.

"Well, we're colleagues, nothing more. I'll figure out how to get rid of Nate on my own. For now, I just need to focus on the Harvest Festival." I turn back to the stove to finish off the curry and reach into the cupboard to pull down two heavy pottery soup bowls.

"The Harvest Festival is an incredible idea, by the way. I've heard multiple customers talking about it in line at the café. The whole town is buzzing about it."

"Speaking of which, I need Mason's help tomorrow. Do you think he'll be busy?" I ask.

"Ha!" Poppy laughs, throwing her head back. "Mason, busy on a Saturday? I'm pretty sure that man just sits in his office and stares at his pager, waiting for it to go off."

"Fair point." I finish scooping out the chicken curry, ladling it over rice, and I pass the steaming bowl of food over to Poppy.

"This looks amazing, Ally."She picks it up and carries it over to the couch.

I finish serving out my own portion and pick up my phone to text Mason before joining Poppy over in the living area.

Ally: Can you swing by the cabin tomorrow? I need some help with something for the Harvest Festival.

A few seconds later, I see the blue dots indicating Mason is typing. Does he just sit at his phone and wait for me to text him, too?

Mason: As long as you can keep your lips off of me.

Mason: Sorry, too soon?

Two can play at this game. If he's trying to get me to reconsider where we stand with each other, he's going to have to do better than that.

Ally: You can't stop thinking about it, can you?

Mason: I can't stop thinking about the way your mouth would feel wrapped around my cock.

Jesus Christ. What's he trying to do to me? I glance over at Poppy sitting in front of the TV, flicking through the limited channels to find something for us to watch. She's distracted enough that she won't notice the way my face is burning.

Ally : Is this your idea of keeping things professional?

I watch as the little blue dots appear on the screen and disappear. A message comes through a few moments later, but it's not a dirty one.

Mason: Only kidding.

Back to being colleagues, I guess. I'd like to say that I'm relieved that Mason is joking, but I'm aware of the warm wetness soaking into my panties at the idea of his cock alone. It's a thought that's going to be difficult to get out of my head. Thanks a lot Dr. Dickbag. I'm about to shut off my phone and forget about the favour I was about to ask him. Fake relationship aside, having him over here tomorrow is not the brightest idea if we're going to remain collegial.

Mason: When should I come over?

Ally: Bright and early. Unless you're too busy.

Mason: I'm never too busy for you, Honeybee.

I click my phone off and leave it on the counter. Mason and I are colleagues. More than that, he's my boss. Mason and I need to keep things professional. Even though the kiss that we shared has been keeping me up at night. Based on Mason's text, he's been thinking about it, too.

Poppy and I finish dinner, and she heads home for the night. She'll be up early to open the café, and I need to collect myself in time for tomorrow. It didn't matter what Poppy and I talked about after I got that text from Mason; I couldn't get the image of him out of my head.

My mouth. His cock.

I pace around the cabin, trying to squash the urgent need that's coursing through me. If I don't do something about this now, I won't be able to face Mason tomorrow. Not when there won't be anything to prevent me from giving in. He'll be here, at the cabin. With no one else around.

Fuck it. I shake my head as I stride over to my nightstand and pull out my purple rabbit vibrator, the one that Mason had held in his hand the day we met. It's also okay if you want to think about me while you're using it.

So much for putting the idea of him out of my head. As hard as I can try to be professional around him, there's no point in trying to keep my thoughts about him platonic. My saving grace is that nothing will actually happen between us. Mason won't let it. I won't let it. I don't need to be second best to a man who only cares about work anymore. But that doesn't have to stop me from imagining the way Mason would feel inside of me.

I lay back on the bed, pulling off my sweats. I don't bother taking off my thong. This won't take long. I push it over to the side, giving me access to my opening. I'm swollen and wet already. Flicking on the vibrator, I work it up and down my slit, letting my eyes roll back at the sensation.No one has to know the kind of thoughts I allow myself to have in private.

The curtains on the front windows are open, dusk falling over the trees outside. The light inside the cabin makes me visible to the outside world. Anyone could walk up to the cabin and see me lying here, legs spread wide open on the bed. Anyone, including Mason.

I don't bother getting up to close them.