20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Lucian

Towering evergreen trees blurred past me as I leaned against my passenger side window. If I looked at the right times, I could catch a fleeting glimpse of the ocean. Hartwood was a hell of a lot closer to the coast than Portland was—that was one of the only perks of living in this dumb hick town. I cracked the window and closed my eyes, breathing in the brisk, slightly salty air.

I needed any distraction I could get—Mason-fucking-Albright was consuming my every other thought. I couldn’t fucking stand it. She was an inconsiderate, flighty bitch who left me when I was at my lowest. But just being close to her made me feel things I could barely explain.

I looked over at her in the driver’s seat of my Jeep, silently falling in love with the way the sunlight coated her delicate features. It was like the world only existed to help Mason shine. My heart thundered as Mason’s eyes locked on mine for a split second before returning to the road. An inferno rushed to my face, and I looked away.

“So… you don’t have contacts either?” She asked, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

My breath hitched as I suddenly became aware of the thin pieces of silicone hidden in my eyes. This was such a stupid lie—if Mason had opened my nightstand, she would have seen my thick-rimmed frames, perfectly intact.

“I ran out of dailies, so now I have to live like this for another week,” I murmured. “There was a backorder on my contacts, and they couldn’t get the frames for my glasses any sooner.”

She nodded, leaning back slightly. After breakfast, she had changed out of Cameron’s clothing and into a band shirt and leggings, both of which did nothing to hide her pregnancy. For some fucking reason, seeing Mason like this had me almost giddy. There was nothing more special than watching someone you—who’s important to your history, become a parent.

I groaned at the thought of actually loving Mason again. But, as I stole another glimpse at her, I couldn’t help but wonder if loving her would actually be that bad.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, reminding myself how she left. How I cried for so long I had to be hospitalized for dehydration. How I lost a month of sleep to panic attacks, thinking everyone else in my life would disappear the same way she did.

To love Mason Albright was to let her hurt me again. Out of everyone in the world, why did she have to be the one to give me butterflies?

No. Butterflies weren’t the right insect to describe what Mason was doing to me. Instead of butterflies, she filled me with wasps. Wasps that swarmed at every interaction, buzzed at every word spoken, crawled in my skin every time she gave me one of her irritating half-hearted smiles. Each excruciating wasp sting sparked a fire inside me that defied logic and reason.

One crucial factor was saving me from falling hopelessly in love again. This woman may have been Mason-fucking-Albright, global superstar, the woman who promised me forever and then left without warning. But she wasn’t my Masie anymore. She was thinner, sadder, and too quiet—a shell of her former self. Those differences just barely kept me from making an absolute jackass of myself.

But I was a jackass by nature, so it was only a matter of time.

Mason let out a pained breath before removing a hand from the steering and placing it on the bottom of her stomach. A concerned wasp stung my throat.

“Are you okay?” I asked, doing my best to sound nonchalant.

She nodded, but her features remained tense. “Lavender is jumping on my bladder.”

“We’re close to the shop. Once we’re there, you can come inside to pee.”

Mason shot me a hollow smile. When Mason’s happiness was genuine, you could see her teeth. Right now, though, she gave me the type of close-lipped smile her mother taught her to use in interviews and photos.

Holly hated Mason’s fucked-up teeth, but she considered braces a ‘ waste of money ‘ . Apparently, it was more important to spend her hard-earned cash drinking herself into a stupor every day. That being said, I was glad Mason’s mom never saw her teeth as something worth investing in. I’d never admit it now, but her smile was once my favorite part of her. I loved the gap in her teeth, how her canines were just sharp enough that you had to wonder if she was secretly a vampire. Her crooked teeth and mismatched eyes gave Mason an almost magical quality.

The parking lot of the tattoo parlor came into view sooner than expected, not that I was complaining. I needed to get out of this fucking car. Before I could even process what I was doing, I had hopped out of my Jeep and dashed around to the driver’s side to help Mason get out. She was still unbuckling her seatbelt when I opened her door.

“My—I mean, the Jeep is, uh...” My face burned as I stumbled through my words. “It’s lifted, and I don’t want you to fall.”

Her eyes softened as they rested on me, and the wasps in my chest multiplied. She took my hand, and I helped her down before smoothing her shirt. My fingers rested on her stomach for just a second too long—I pulled away the moment I realized it. I was practically fiending for a chance to just touch Mason. Part of me wanted to reach out and hold her hand.

That part was a fucking moron.

I crossed my arms to prevent myself from doing something stupid as I headed for the minuscule brick building. I’d named my shop Schoolhouse Tattoo because the bell tower on the top reminded me of one of those ancient one-room schools. The bricks were brown and crumbled around the edges from age, and while I did my best to maintain it, it looked kind of cruddy compared to the restaurant and boutique on either side.

If I had been able to save more money for a down payment, I’d have picked something better. Sophia, Leona, and the world’s most annoying brother had each offered to buy the building outright, but I hated the idea of owing money to any of them. I may have not been a corporate drone like the rest of them, but I was determined to make a name for myself without anyone’s help. Especially because the last time someone helped me with anything, they left without a word.

I fumbled around in my pocket for a moment, removed my key ring, and unlocked the glass door. The bell overhead chimed as I let us in and flicked on the light.

“The bathroom is straight back at the end of the hall.” I told Mason.

She nodded once before vanishing into the still-dark hallway. The subtle sway of her hips made me smile in spite of myself, but I quickly swallowed the feeling. I needed to get the shop set up before she inevitably bothered me again.

I turned on every light, wiped the glass counter filled with replacement piercings, and headed back to my cubicle, where the speaker system was located. My staff were good people, but they all had shitty taste in music. As the owner, I had a right not to be tormented on my property. I still couldn’t play whatever I wanted, though—most of my customers weren’t keen on listening to screaming all day. I put on one of the default playlists I had made for the shop, and “Star Shopping” by Lil Peep started playing.

With the music taken care of, I settled into the small desk in the corner and pulled out my drawing tablet. I didn’t have an appointment, or even a staff member, scheduled to come in for over an hour, but I was behind on my sketches. I had a client coming in later who wanted a portrait of her pet rainbow boa curled around her forearm, and I had yet to even look at a picture of the snake. I pulled up the photo she’d sent and got to work drawing the tattoo.

My stylus glided across the screen, leaving behind trails that were slowly coming together to form the suggestion of a snake. Just as I found my rhythm, I was disrupted by a delicate shuffling against my hardwood floor. I peered over my shoulder to see Mason standing in the doorway. One hand rested on the wall, and the other on her stomach. For fuck’s sake, she needed new clothes—the black fabric around her stomach looked like it was digging into her. Maybe if I texted Sophia, she’d take a break from working her life away to take Mason shopping.

Mason’s inharmonious gaze met mine, and warmth spread to my cheeks.

I cleared my throat and placed my tablet to the side, swiveling my chair to give her my full attention. My traitorous heart needed to learn how to stop racing when she was around. This twisted version of Mason and I would never be a thing, not in a million years.

“Hey,” she said.

I gave her a two-finger wave to let her know I was listening.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to walk home.”

I scoffed. “Uh, no? It’d take you hours to walk all the way back.”

Mason’s lips thinned, and she held up her phone. “I tried to call for a cab, but there aren’t any in the area.”

Yeah, because one of the most recognizable celebrities in the world getting in a random person’s car was a great idea.

“Just drive my Jeep back. It’s not doing me any good sitting there.”

She looked down and picked at a callus on her thumb. God, it was so frustrating to have a conversation with this meek little ghost of Mason-fucking-Albright. If she disagreed, why couldn’t she just tell me to shut the fuck up like she always used to?

“That’s your car,” she argued.

“You bought it for me in the first place, and I literally can’t drive it home without glasses.”

She looked back up as she bit her lower lip.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded, trying to keep the annoyance from showing on my face. “I’d feel better knowing you have a safe way home… both of you.”

There was a spark in her eyes that threatened to make me melt. I distracted myself by pulling out my keyring and picking at the metal, forcing it open far enough to slide the Jeep’s fob out of the circle. I held the device out to her.

“Please?” I asked.

Mason hesitated before bridging the gap between us. Eventually, her fingers rested on mine. I knew she just wanted the keys, but I couldn’t force myself to let go.

“Why don’t you sit for a few minutes?” I swallowed. “Especially if baby girl is using your bladder like a trampoline. It’d be a shame if you pissed yourself in my car.”

A fleeting smile tugged at her lips, and I pointed to my tattoo chair. It was made of plush leather, and every part could be adjusted, which was great for clients with all-day appointments.

“It’s really comfortable,” I offered.

Her fingers tensed around the key fob, and I expected her to shoot me down. After a moment, she withdrew her hand.

“A few minutes won’t hurt.” Her voice was soft as she began walking toward the chair. Once again, the small wiggle to her steps had me smiling against my will.

“Isn’t it too soon for you to be waddling?” I teased as I adjusted the chair for her.

Her fingers brushed against the armrest as her attention wandered around the room. I wondered which of my sketches was lucky enough to hold her attention. It would be a hell of a publicity boost if I tattooed a pop star—after the baby was here, of course.

“Did you hear me?” I asked as I turned her to face me.

Mason shrunk in the chair slightly.

“It’s not Lavender making me walk funny,” she whispered.

My eyes widened.

“... Okay?”

Her cheeks turned the most delicious shade of red as she squeaked. Vocal tics were an old nervous habit of hers; the familiar sound warmed my heart.

“Do you care to elaborate?” I questioned.

Her attention turned toward her feet.

“Cameron and I kind of…” She trailed off before swallowing. Shame dripped from her words.

“His dick is huge.”

Jealousy surged through me like a tsunami, destroying every grounding thought I had. Cameron was my boyfriend, and I was used to sharing him. Fuck, I loved sharing him. Why should I be jealous that Mason slept with him?

That’s when I realized Mason wasn’t the one I was envious of.

I forced myself to remain calm on the outside, but inside, I was seething. Not at her—at myself.

“Yeah, it is,” I scoffed. “But he doesn’t really know what he’s doing.”

I knew damn well that was a lie. Cameron knew how to use every inch of his massive frame. He had fucked me silly time and time again. But... I wanted that kind of praise from her. I wanted her to enjoy my body as she did his. I wanted her to love—fuck me. I just wanted her to fuck me, that was all.

Mason looked up, a sly smirk on her lips.

“He doesn’t? You could have fooled me.”

Her response ignited an undeniable fire in my stomach.

“His hands are too large for him to pay attention to the details,” I continued.

Her smirk deepened. “He did just fine with me.”

There was mischief written on her face. Did she know what she was doing? Her gaze flicked to the zipper of my pants. This fucking brat was playing me like a fiddle.

This was going to be fun.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to get me to fuck you.”

“You think I’m what?” She gasped, feigning innocence as she batted her eyes.

I shook my head and bit my lip to stop myself from smiling. Some things never change, and apparently, Mason being a horny bitch was on that list.

Unfortunately, as all the blood in my body rushed to the wrong head, I realized that I, too, was a horny bitch.

Maybe that’s what was wrong with me. Maybe I didn’t have feelings for Mason at all. I just wanted to fuck her, and once I did, I wouldn’t have to think about her ever again. It was a long shot, but it was a hell of a lot better than admitting to myself that I might still be in love with Mason-fucking-Albright.