Playing Pretend
Author: Juliana Haygert
Date: 2014-02-25T05:00:00+00:00

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books

Playing Pretend
by

Juliana Haygert

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Juliana Haygert.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Manufactured in the United States of America.

First Edition March 2014

www.JulianaHaygert.com

Edited by H. Danielle Crabtree

Cover design by Rebecca Berto/Berto Designs

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following brands mentioned in this work of fiction: Lincoln, Washington Post, Red Bull, Starbucks, Catch My Breath by Kelly Clarkson, George Washington University, University of North Carolina, Mercedes, Porsche Cayenne, Rolex, Beatles, Wikipedia, Rolls-Royce, Play Station 4, Facebook, Google, Coke, Bud Light, Toxic by Britney Spears, Toddlers & Tiara, The Matrix, The Pelican Brief, Law and Order, Smallville, Supernatural, Mega Engineering, Junkyard Wars, MythBusters, Harry Potter, Wimbledon, Avatar, Once Upon a Time, Gilmore Girls, 5am by Katy B.

To my dear husband for
our 10th wedding anniversary.

Love you!

Chapter One

Charlotte

Excitement trickled through me as I parked the rental car behind the building and walked around to the front entrance.

The hot Californian night brushed my tanned skin. Excitement trickled through me. The little town buzzed with students, like me, enjoying the second to last day of spring break. A group walked past, toward the bar next door. Their voices loud and joyful, their laughter contagious.

A smile appeared on my lips. I had never experienced anything like this. I had never felt so free, so happy, so excited, and I almost hadn’t come on this trip.

My phone rang.

“Hey, girl,” I answered.

“Charlotte? Crap, I wanted to call MaryAnn,” Liana said, her words slurring.

I shook my head. For Liana to get something like calling someone wrong, she was probably pretty drunk. “I thought she was at the bonfire with you.”

“She was, but now it’s only Becca and me.”

“She’s probably out with some random guy,” I said. “Isn’t that what she does every night?”

Liana giggled. “It is, but she could have let us know so we wouldn’t worry about her.”

“All right, then call her.”

“I will. Oh, hey, have fun,” she said in a singsong tone.

“Thanks,” I said, before turning off my phone.

I slipped it inside my back pocket as I entered the bar.

Low, melodious music drifted from the ceiling. The scent of alcohol was heady in the air, and the dark and cozy atmosphere hummed with energy. On a small stage, girls, wearing not much more than bikinis, danced around poles. Drunken guys cheered and applauded each time one approached them.

With a confident gait I hadn’t had in me until six nights ago, I crossed the room, weaving through the low tables and the animated people around them, to the crowded bar. I waited for more than five minutes, until a couple moved from their stools to the exit. Hmm, fun night ahead of them.

Still smiling, I perched atop the stool, my gaze locked on the approaching bartender, who was wearing tight black slacks and a tie. Nothing more.

“What can I get for you, ma’am?” The husky tone of his voice wrapped around me as his hazel eyes consumed my soul.

Licking my lips, my gaze ran the length of his body, lingering over his taut chest and abdomen.

Jesus, so hot. “Just a martini.” I stared into his eyes as they brightened. The corner of his lip curled slightly and butterflies danced in my stomach. “For now.”

With raised eyebrows, he bowed and left to prepare my drink.

Meanwhile, I never stopped staring at him, at his hot body, at his beautiful face.

The bartender came back, placed my martini on the counter in front of me, and after stealing a quick but intense glance, walked away to serve other customers.

I exhaled a long breath and sipped from my drink, attentive to the bartender’s whereabouts, while I counted the seconds. The big neon clock on the wall read 1:57 a.m. Just three more minutes.

The bartender approached. “Can I get you anything else?”

The intensity of his stare left me breathless, but I played along. Raising a single eyebrow, I smiled. “I don’t think so.”

I peeked at the clock. One more minute.

Under the bartender’s gaze, I downed my drink, slapped a fifty on the counter, and marched out of the bar.

Giddiness propelled the butterflies in my stomach as I jogged to my car, not caring I wore a mini-denim skirt, or that I could twist my foot running in wedges.

The minute should be over by now and I had to be ready.

Barely able to hold still, I leaned against my car, arms crossed, and waited.

One minute passed.

I paced around.

Ten minutes.

I bit my nails.

Twenty minutes.

I fished my cell phone from my pocket, rested my back against the car again, and searched for the number I wanted.

“Who are you calling?”

The phone almost fell from my hands when his voice reached me. A thrilling shiver jolted down my spine.

The bartender walked from the back door toward me. He now wore a shirt, but that didn’t lessen the impact of his beauty. His soft black hair framed his hard jaw. His bangs fell over his piercing hazel eyes. His broad shoulders and chest seemed out of room inside his clothes.

I stashed my phone and offered him a wicked grin. “You.”

Without giving me time to react, the bartender walked up, bumped his body on mine, held my wrists against the car, leaned down, and found my mouth with his. I opened to him instantly. A moan came from my throat when his hard frame pressed against me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. His lips trailed down my chin, leaving a trace of fire behind. Fire that built in my chest and spread down my body.

He nibbled my ear and whispered, “Ready to go?”

“You’re late,” I chided, my hands on his chest, pushing him away and failing. I laughed as he added force and pressed tighter against me. “Mason, come on.”

His chest rumbled and he laughed in my ear. “Sorry, I can’t resist.”

“What?” I put my hands on my hips, pretending to be mad. “Just because you’re three times my size?”

“Not only that.” His tongue slid down my neck, and he bit my shoulder. “You’re too delicate. And so, so hot.”

Of course, I was delicate compared to him. The guy was over six feet, while I was five-four and so thin, I could be carried by the wind. However, when in the circle of his arms, a tornado could try to knock me out, and wouldn’t succeed.

Soon I wouldn’t be in his arms anymore.

“You were late,” I repeated in a low tone.

Mason pulled back and stared into my eyes, the intensity of his gaze making me dizzy. “I know. Sorry. It was payday.” He picked the check from his pocket and showed it to me.

I averted my gaze, not caring about his salary.

He lifted a strand of my long dark hair and twisted it around his finger. “I have a surprise though. I got tomorrow night off.”

“Why is that?” I bit my lower lip.

“And here I thought you would squeal like a girlie girl and throw yourself at me.” He ran his fingertips down my neck, making me shiver. “Or do you not want to spend the next thirty hours with me?”

I clasped my hand on his nape and pulled him to me, my mouth closing over his. I kissed him slowly, but deeply, my tongue grazing against his. I pulled back and licked his lower lip. “Does that answer your question?”

He nodded, his eyes clouded with what seemed like hunger. For me. “Let’s go?”

Thirty minutes ago. “Yes.”

***

Charlotte

In the tangle of sheets and legs and arms, I observed Mason as he slept, his chest slowly rising and lowering under my hand. With my finger, I traced the hills and vales and plains of his perfect physique, trying to commit it to memory so I could draw him like this later. His skin was soft and warm, just like him. My fingertip lingered on his stomach, admiring his six-pack and that V that all girls—including me—went crazy over. It would be hard to replicate such beauty on paper.

This was my first spring break as a college student. Actually, this was my first spring break away from my mother. I never thought something like this would happen. I had never acted like this before. The girls had convinced me to come on this trip, kiss a guy here and there, and have fun. However, after meeting Mason, things had happened fast.

Each time our first encounter flashed in my mind, I smiled. It had been our first night in town. The girls and I wanted to get some drinks before the bonfire at the beach, and we ended up at the bar with the hottest bartender alive. They flirted with him, but I didn’t. I wanted to, but, oh, if my mother only knew the things I dreamed about doing. Well, she would kill me if she knew where I was. She had barely approved this trip. In truth, she thought I was in Canada with Tracy, the girl she thought was my best friend.

Besides all his mischievous grins, the bartender didn’t lead the girls on, though often his eyes found mine.

I left with my friends for the bonfire, but they found hookups too quickly and I couldn’t get the bartender out of my mind. Liana had noticed how hung up I had been on him and encouraged me to go after him.

“You only live once,” she said. “Besides, nobody knows you here. You can do whatever you want. You can be whoever you want.”

Her words stirred something in me. Be whoever I wanted. I liked being me, I guess, but I could use more free time. More me time.

My mother would kill me if she found out any of this, but she was thousands of miles away, on the East Coast. No one would see me if I was careful.

With courage I didn’t know I had, I went back to the bar. When he saw me, his eyes went wide and a small smile spread over his lips. The butterflies in my belly took off.

The rest was history.

Since then, six nights ago, I had slept with Mason every night in my hotel room. Actually, we spent almost every single hour together, except for when he had to work at the bar, or when he stopped by his house, which I didn’t know where it was exactly, to change clothes.

Unfortunately, spring break was ending and I would go home tomorrow morning.

I pulled back as a pang assaulted my heart.

When my hand left his chest, Mason turned sideways, his arm reaching for me. “Come back,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.

A smile crept on my lips and I held his hand. His fingers closed around mine and he pulled me to him, under him. He rested his face in the crook of my neck, his arms tight, yet careful not to squash me under his weight.

As I ran my nails on the tribal tattoo that extended over his left shoulder blade, I peeked at the clock on the nightstand.

“It’s almost noon. I’m hungry.”

His head shook against my neck. “Not yet. Let’s stay like this all day.”

I turned my face to his and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. “I don’t know about you, but I also gotta pee.”

His tongue grazed my skin, spreading warm jolts down my neck. “Does that take your mind off it?”

I laughed. “You’re impossible.”

With a huge grin, he pulled back to look at me. “Thank you.” Then his forehead molded into a deep frown. “We’re still playing the don’t-tell-anything-about-ourselves game?”

A tight knot formed in my chest. “Sure we are.” If it were up to me, we would part ways and still not know anything relevant about each other.

“And you won’t even tell me why?”

I pulled my gaze away from him. “No.”

“Not even your last name.”

“Especially not my last name.”

“Who are you?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, but I still didn’t like the question. “Daughter of a famous actor? Or of a famous baseball player?” His eyes lit. “I know. You’re famous.”

I laughed. “Stop. You won’t find out anything.”

“But I did.” Mason rested his head on my neck again. “I know your favorite color is purple. I know you love sushi. You like to dance. You hate beer but could drink tons of martinis. You love the beach. Since you’re always doodling, I’m guessing you love to draw. I also know your friends admire you, probably because you’re way more beautiful and hot than them. And, judging by your clothes, the car you rented, and your fancy hotel room, you have tons of money.” I stiffened. “What?” He raised his head and spied into my eyes. “What did I say?”

I slipped from under his embrace and sat at the edge of the bed. “I don’t like subjects that involve money.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, stood, and searched the floor for my clothes. “People tend to make a big deal about money.”

“Money is a big deal. You shouldn’t be ashamed of having it.”

“I’m not.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

I turned to him, my skirt in my hand. “I don’t like what comes with money.”

“You don’t like comfort?”

I shook my head. He didn’t get it and I wouldn’t waste our little time together explaining. “That’s why I don’t like talking about it. Look at us. Our last day together and we are arguing for the first time in six full days.”

With a sympathetic smile, Mason stood before me. “I didn’t mean to cause a quarrel. I’m just amused. You’re the first rich person I’ve met who doesn’t like to talk or brag about money.”

“Yeah.” I yanked my skirt on with too much force. “Ninety percent of my friends are my friends because of my money.”

He stepped closer, his eyes softening. “Well, in my defense, I was interested in you before finding out you’re rich.”

“We also aren’t friends.” I air quoted the word friends and my lips curled in a small smile.

His hands inched toward my waist. “Can we start over?”

Heaviness settled in my chest. “We don’t have time to start over.”

“Then let me make this day count.” His fingers brushed the skin under the hem of my skirt.

My resolve undoing, I nodded. “I like that idea.”

His lips met mine, leaving me breathless, and he pulled my skirt back down.

Chapter Two

Mason

I held Charlotte’s hand as we walked in the warm, white sand, looking for a spot to settle down. It was mid-afternoon, when most spring breakers had just woken up after a night of partying.

I glanced at her and smiled. Her gold bikini left almost nothing to the imagination, and the tiny skirt could have doubled as a washcloth. Too much skin and temptation exposed. I wanted to cover her body with a towel so no other guy could see how hot she was.

She smiled back, squeezing my hand. A warm breeze kicked in and brushed her long dark hair aside. Christ, she was beautiful. Too beautiful. Large green eyes, a small nose, full reddish lips, fair, smooth skin, and the perfect, tanned body. I had never hooked up with a girl so beautiful, so perfect.

I’d let her seduce me that first night because I was mad and distraught, but she easily enraptured me. For six days, I’d barely thought about the events of the previous weeks. I had healed a little with her.

However, she was leaving the next day, and I didn’t even know her last name.

We found a spot among the crowd large enough to spread a towel and open two beach chairs. I let go of Charlotte’s hand and dropped the cooler on the sand.

Charlotte slid out of her skirt and I noticed several guys—and girls—admiring her and her movements, while she was seemingly oblivious to it. Jealousy clawed at my chest.

Come on, man. This was just a hookup.

However, the past six days felt more and more like six months. If she lived in town and we saw each other often, I would have had to cut things at once before I actually fell for her. Which seemed easy to do.

Charlotte lay on the towel, and I glared at the men still staring at her before sitting down beside her.

“Is the town always like this?”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“Packed.” She gestured toward the beach. She tapped her foot to the rhythm blasting out of a nearby radio.

It was insanely full, but most people were college students like us.

Someone on my side tossed a beer to a friend, which made me thirsty. I reached for one of my own inside the cooler. “Nope. It’s usually too quiet here. The busiest times are spring break and summer.”

Sand kicked up nearby as someone raced after a soccer ball. I straightened my back, opening my mouth to complain, but the dude on my right was faster.

“What the hell?” he yelled.

I grabbed the rolling ball as a boy no older than ten ran our way, in search of his toy.

“Can I have my ball back, please?” the boy said, pointing to my arms.

“Sure,” I said, handing him the toy.

“Wait, what?” the guy on the side said, reaching for the ball. From his crossed eyes and jerky movements, he was probably tipsy. “No. This kid will just throw it again. Don’t give it to him.”

I pulled the boy to the side, out of reach from the guy. “Here. Just be more careful.”

“Will do.” The boy smiled, hugging his ball tight. “Thanks.”

I nodded. The boy ran away and the drunken guy turned to me. “If I get more sand all over me, it’s on you.”

My fists clenched. I turned to the guy. Charlotte’s hand on my arm sent a shock—a good shock—through my system and I took a deep breath. This guy wasn’t worth my irritation.

I gave him my back and faced the beautiful girl lying beside me.

A smile adorned her face.

“What?”

“You. Being kind to the kid. I like it.”

I shook my head. Well, I had almost complained too, but he was just a kid. It wasn’t his fault. I knew he hadn’t thrown the ball at us on purpose.

A few moments later, Charlotte’s friends Liana, MaryAnn, and Rebecca joined us.

It was odd to be the only male among four beautiful girls, but if it meant I could spend a few extra hours with Charlotte, then I would put up with their girlie conversation.

Liana and Becca took the chairs, and MaryAnn sat on the edge of the towel.

“So,” Becca said, her gaze scanning the crowd, “how many hot guys do we have here?”

Liana grabbed a beer out of the cooler. “Too many. The way I like it.”

I groaned. Every guy had a limit. “Could you girls not talk about guys right now?”

Charlotte laughed, her eyes closed.

“Why?” MaryAnn smiled at me. “I bet that you talk about girls all the time with your friends, and the words you use are not appropriate for the general public.”

I took a sip of my beer. “Yeah, well, I’m not with my friends. I would appreciate it if you refrained from speaking about guys at all while I’m here.”

Liana laughed. “Oh my God, those big words. Appreciate? Refrained?”

MaryAnn winked. “He’s trying to impress our gal.”

“I think she’s already impressed,” Becca said.

“Leave me out of this,” Charlotte protested without opening her eyes. She seemed so at peace, savoring the sun’s rays on her shining skin. I wanted to roll over her and lick h—

“What are we gonna talk about, then?” Liana asked.

MaryAnn finished her beer in one long gulp and stood. “I know what we’re gonna do.” She beckoned the other girls to stand. “Hot guys at four o’clock, and I think they’re alone. Let’s go over there.”

“What?” Becca eyed the group. “Just go and introduce ourselves?”

MaryAnn smiled. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of standing close, making eye contact, and letting them come to us.”

Liana jumped up. “I’m in.”

And just like that, they weaved their way to the group—their victims for the night.

I shook my head.

“What are you smiling about?”

I turned to Charlotte and found her spying on me, her hand over her eyes, a smile of her own.

“Just amused,” I answered.

She rolled to the side. “They are quite the handful, but I love them. They are my real friends, the ones who truly get and accept me.”

Real friends. What did that mean? I didn’t ask, because I knew she wouldn’t answer. Still, I couldn’t stay quiet.

I lay down on the towel, my body turned to her. “And who is the true you?”

She rolled her eyes. “A girl. Period.” She sighed. “I’m not gonna talk about that again, and I really want to have a good last night with you, okay?”

Charlotte glided her index finger over my bare chest, stopping at the waist of my shorts.

I shivered. “Only if you let me take you back to your hotel room right now.” I reached for her, placing my hand on her neck, and leaned in. I brushed my lips over hers, and suppressed a moan. Christ.

She chuckled against my mouth. “But we just got here.”

“I don’t care about here.” I slid my lips along her jaw, and whispered in her ear, “I want you.”

Charlotte pulled my face to hers and kissed me. Her lips were soft against mine, and her taste addicting. Her tongue teased me, and I thought I would lose it, right here, in the middle of a crowded beach.

“Hey, Mason.”

Groaning, I pulled back from Charlotte, and turned to my brother. “Hey, Matt. You remember Charlotte, right?”

They had met on the second night, when Matt had come to the bar.

“Yeah. Hey.”

Charlotte waved. “Hi.”

I sat up. “What are you up to?”

“Just hanging.” Matt ran his hand through his hair. We looked alike, though Matt was two years younger and less built. For now. My little brother went to the gym almost seven days a week to, as he said, beef up. “Saw you and came to say hi.”

“Mason!” Brody appeared from behind Matt. “Man, haven’t seen you in days.” His gaze shifted to Charlotte and his eyes widened. “Okay, I see why and I’d say you’re definitely forgiven.”

“Hey, Brody, this is Charlotte.” I held her hand in mine. “Charlotte, this is Brody, my friend.”

“His best friend,” Brody said with a large grin.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Her tone wasn’t as laid back as usual.

“You too.” Brody shook her hand, and then turned to me. “Hey, there’s going to be a party tonight at Connor’s house. They will set up a bonfire and hula dancers. Are you guys coming?”

I looked at Charlotte. I’d go if she wanted, but preferred to avoid such places, knowing who would probably be there. Besides, I wanted to take advantage of every second of my last hours with her.

“Your call. Want to go?”

She leaned close and whispered in my ear, “I think we have other plans in my hotel room.”

Smiling, I planted a quick peck on her lips. “Agreed.” I turned to the guys. “We’ll pass.”

“I see.” Brody frowned. “Good call. Tamara is probably gonna be there and I know you’ve been avoi—”

I tensed and Matt smacked Brody’s stomach with his arm. “Shut up,” my brother hissed.

Brody’s face fell. “Oh, sorry.”

Matt put his arm over Brody’s shoulders. “We’ll leave you two in peace. Later.”

They rushed away, but the damage was done. My mood had taken a sharp turn.

Charlotte’s hand rested on my arm. “It’s okay.”

I dared a peek at her, and was surprised by how gentle her expression was.

“You have a past. Everyone does. But, if you’re cheating on her with me, please don’t tell me, okay? I really don’t want to know if I’m being used like that.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m not cheating. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, okay.” Charlotte scooted closer, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Let’s forget about it. I didn’t hear anything.” She pulled back. “Unless … you’re too upset now, to … you know, be with me ag—”

I cupped her cheek and kissed her. I was upset, yes, but nothing could keep me away from her during these last few hours. I wanted her. I needed her. I showed her just how much when I deepened the kiss, threatening to break unspoken social rules of how to behave in public.

Charlotte pulled back, out of breath. “I think my bed is calling us.”

I stood and offered her my hand.

With a smile, Charlotte took it.

In that moment, it seemed she would agree to go anywhere with me, and that filled my chest with a sensation I thought I’d forgotten.

***

Charlotte

The only things I knew about Mason were that he was born and raised in this cute beach town, that he still lived with his parents, though he wanted to move out, and that I had met his brother.

In turn, Mason was about to find out one thing about me.

Seated on a wooden bench, I took off my sandals and put on my roller skates under Mason’s curious gaze. After we had sex—twice—we had dinner with the girls. At the restaurant, I asked him to take us to a small park where the pavement was smooth, and a little private.

So far, the place looked great. Far from the beach, which meant most students wouldn’t be here at this hour of the night, with an even walkway and several lamps that illuminated just enough.

I stood and straightened my pink tank top. It matched the rhinestones on my jean skirt, and the laces of my colorful skates.

I spun once, in place, and then smiled at Mason. He was still seated on the bench, his eyes narrowed, suspicious, his arms crossed over his green shirt. It was impossible not to notice how well that color went with his hazel eyes, tanned skin, and black hair. It also hugged his powerful shoulders and biceps. He probably worked out a lot or played sports to maintain his physique.

It didn’t matter what he did to look this hot. The next day, I would be gone and nothing would matter anymore. Shaking my head, I put some distance between us.

“So,” Mason said, and I turned to him. He nodded to the skates on my feet. “I’m adding a hobby to the list of things I know about you.”

With her own roller skates on, Liana shot up from the other bench. “It’s cute how you’re trying to figure her out, Mason.”

Mason grinned. “Am I succeeding?”

MaryAnn stood beside Liana. “Not even close.” She shot past us, gaining speed with each step.

Becca yelled, “Wait,” and then skated after MaryAnn.

“Ah, they won’t beat me,” Liana said, flashing a wicked smile.

She rushed past me, trying to catch up with the other two.

Meanwhile, I observed Mason. With the little frown between his brows, he looked intrigued, and sexy.

Mason stood and, with his hands inside his pockets, strolled toward me. “You skate a lot?”

“Not as much as I would like,” I said, surprising myself with the truth.

He halted less than a foot away, looming over me, even though I wore skates. “Busy?”

“Something like that,” I said.

His frown deepened.

“What is it?”

His eyes met mine and he shrugged. “I won’t force anything out of you, but I don’t understand why you don’t want to tell me more about you. Even if you’re a spy or daughter of a mob boss, I don’t care.”

My heart squeezed. Liana was right. It was cute how he tried to figure me out. He was cute. No, he was way more than cute. He was handsome, hot, intelligent, kind. And hot. And hotter.

I stepped closer, snaked my arms around his neck, tipped my head, and kissed his chin. Sighing, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on my waist.

“Thank you for respecting me.” I trailed kisses from his chin to the sensitive spot under his ear. His arms tightened around me and he groaned, placing a smile on my lips. I loved making him lose his cool. I loved when he put his big hands on me, grabbed me with need and want, and kissed me as if I was his life energy.

Damn, I would miss him.

Mason tilted his head to me and I closed my mouth over his. His lips were warm and soft, moving in synchrony with mine. One of his hands slid under my shirt, and I moaned when he dug his fingers into my skin. His other hand traveled up and fisted my hair, pulling my head back as his tongue left a blazing trail from my mouth to my shoulder.

I scooted closer, placing one of my legs between his, and rubbed my hips against his. I could feel his hardness against me and I moaned again.

God, if we didn’t stop now, I would let him take me right here, right now.

Reluctantly, I stepped away from him.

He reached for me. “Come here.”

Smiling, I skated away. “Come and get me.”

A full on smile took over Mason’s lips. “You’re on.” He jogged toward me, but when I giggled and increased my speed, he ran after me. “Hey, what do I get if I catch you?”

Without turning or slowing, I yelled, “Me.”

He groaned behind me and I dashed away, but not as fast as I could go.

Chapter Three

Charlotte

In the end, the girls convinced us to go to the bonfire party at Connor’s beach house after only thirty minutes of skating.

We dropped the skates at the hotel and headed to the beach on foot. I could feel Mason’s tension beside me. Was he worried he would meet Tamara—whoever that girl was—at the party, or that she would see me? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.

At this time of night, the party was in full swing. Burning fire, loud music, empty beer bottles spread on the sand, guys backing girls into the dark.

Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca found some girls they had met on a previous night the moment we stepped onto the sand, and joined them beside the bonfire. Within seconds, they were laughing, dancing, and drinking.

These were my friends. They didn’t care what others thought and they were completely crazy. Because of the life I led, I unfortunately didn’t spend much time with them. However, they knew they were important to me. To my sanity.

With a smile, I shook my head.

Mason slipped his hand in mine. “You have that look again,” he said, staring at me.

“What look?”

“The mysterious one. The one that makes me want to find out more about you, even though I agreed I wouldn’t try.”

I rolled my eyes and ignored his comment.

“Hey, you two came,” Matt said, approaching us.

“Yeah,” Mason said, still tense. “How is it going?”

Matt looked around and shrugged. “It’s going. It’s a party. Drunk people everywhere.”

I chuckled, but swallowed when Brody crisscrossed his way to us.

“The king of the drunken approaches,” Mason said.

“Hey!” Brody yelled. “You came! That’s great.” He halted in front of us, though he couldn’t stand still. He swayed to one side, then to another, his gaze unfocused. “Good thing too. This party is bombing and I didn’t want you to miss it just because you thought Tamara would be here. She isn’t—”

Matt slapped Brody’s head. “Shut up, mutt.”

By my side, Mason had stilled and his hand squeezed mine, but I didn’t think he noticed.

“Oh, right.” Brody chuckled. “Sorry, Caroline.”

“Charlotte,” Mason corrected. He frowned.

“Yes, right. Charlotte. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I muttered. Truth was, I didn’t know if it was okay. It was awkward to be among them, in their ambience and hometown and talking about an ex. I wouldn’t feel too bad if Mason was acting like his normal self.

“Sorry about that,” Matt said, grabbing Brody’s arms. He pulled his friend away from us.

I turned to Mason but he didn’t move. He stared at the bonfire, and I wondered if that was it, if our special night would end right now.

“Hey,” I said, afraid of his answer.

He took a deep breath. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “Do you … do you want to leave? Or, I don’t know, you want me to leave?”

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

Slowly, Mason turned to me. Upon fixing his eyes on mine, his expression softened. “Sorry. I don’t want to spoil our night. It’s just—”

“You don’t have to explain,” I said quickly, afraid that he would tell me he still had feelings for her. Which was ridiculous, because what did I care? I was going away tomorrow morning and I would never see him again. He could have feelings for whomever he wanted. I didn’t care.

Or so I told myself.

“It was a troubled breakup, but that is all.” Tugging at our entwined hands, he pulled me closer. “But it’s out of my mind now. I’m having a great time with you and I want it to be this way until you leave tomorrow.”

My heart skipped a beat. Damn, how I wished spring break lasted for at least another week. “I’m having a great time too.” I squeezed his hand. “Come on.”

We walked past the party until we were at the edge of the water. I let go of his hand, took off my shoes, and dipped my toes into the water.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the gentle breeze brushing my hair back.

Mason stood behind me, close enough that the warmth of his body sent a thrilled shiver down my spine, but not touching.

His fingertips grazed my neck and he swept my hair to the side. He leaned over me and placed a soft kiss on the sweet spot between my neck and my shoulder. I shivered again.

Slowly, Mason wound his arms around me and pulled my flush to his chest. He kissed my neck, right under my ear, and I took a deep breath. I liked this. I liked being here, with my toes in the ocean, with a gorgeous man close to me, with my best friends somewhere nearby. It was simple. Uncomplicated. Almost perfect.

The image of my parents in what they considered perfect flashed in mind. This wasn’t it.

My shoulders sagged.

“What is it?” Mason asked, whispering in my ear.

I wouldn’t let what was across the country spoil my last night in this amazing place. I shut everything out of my mind, focusing on the here and now, and smiled.

“Nothing,” I said, stepping out of his arms and farther into the ocean.

I turned to Mason and bit my lower lip.

His brows shot up. “Hmm, what’s with the naughty look?”

I took another step into the ocean.

“I know!” He offered me a smile of his own. “You’re a mermaid. That’s why you’re entering the water. Are you going to leave me now?”

I laughed, and then kicked the water and showered him.

Mason gasped, pretending to be shocked. “Oh, you’re going down.”

He lunged after me. I squealed and ran from him, as fast as I could with the water on my knees. In no time, his arm circled my waist and he pulled me up. I yelped and laughed, kicking my legs so he would drop me, but he didn’t. Instead, he carried me deeper, until the water was on my waist, then he let me go.

Unprepared, I dropped and my feet slipped on the bottom. I fell back, but not before catching Mason’s shirt and pulling him with me. I heard his chuckle before the water closed around me. His body crashed on mine and we sank a little more. His hands landed on my waist and he pulled us up. Between laughing and taking long gulps of air, Mason pulled me to him. I brushed my hair away from my face, and then did the same to him. My hands lingered on his neck and his eyes met mine. The laugh died and a fire ignited low in my belly. I loved it when he looked at me this way, with hunger and desire in his eyes.

He cupped my cheek and leaned down. His lips met mine, slow and sweet at first, then his tongue invaded my mouth and he took my breath away. Wanting to be as close to him as was humanly possible, I wound my legs around his waist, fitting our hips together. His erection brushed against my pelvis and I gasped.

One of his hands smoothed down my back, temporarily cupped my butt, and then moved to the front. Heat surged through me. However, this wasn’t the time or the place for that. Some heavy kissing? Yeah, okay. But doing that in a public area? Nope.

I jumped down from him.

“Hey!” he protested.

I swam away from him, closer to the shore, and he jumped after me. I giggled and kept on running from him. We played something like tag for a long time, where he ran after me and pretended not to catch me when I kicked water at him, and I ran faster when he threw water at me.

I would miss being this carefree.

***

Mason

I put Charlotte’s bags inside the trunk, squeezing it in with the other girls’ bags somehow. They had come for only one week but, looking at the bags, I would have guessed they stayed three months.

I closed the trunk and walked to Charlotte, who leaned against the driver’s door waiting for me. Her friends were already inside the car, talking and laughing too loudly.

Charlotte smiled and I held my breath. How could a girl be this beautiful?

“So, that’s it?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist.

She slipped her hands over my arms. “That’s it.”

I buried my face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, savoring her intoxicating cherry scent. I would miss this smell. I hated how stupid this was. It had only been a couple of days. I didn’t know her. I didn’t truly like her.

I grazed my lips from her neck to her mouth, and kissed her. A small, quick kiss. Then, I pulled back and retreated a step. “Have a safe trip.”

A deep frown appeared over her pretty eyes. “Thanks. Take care.”

I wanted to stay and watch as she drove way, but that was a ridiculous idea. How many times would I have to tell myself that I didn’t know her? I didn’t truly like her?

I marched away.

***

Mason

I turned the last corner and saw a car in my driveway. “Shit.”

I thought about turning around and staying away until she gave up and left my house, but only God knew when she would leave, persistent as she was, and I needed my bed since I was tired from the previous night.

A smile crept on my face. Of course I was tired. Charlotte and I must have slept only for two hours, but damn it was worth it. I took a deep breath, wishing her scent would fill my nostrils. Christ. I had to stop thinking about her.

I shoved thoughts of Charlotte out of my mind and made my way into my house.

My parents were nowhere to be seen, but Tamara was seated on the worn beige couch in the family room.

“Hi, Mason,” she said, a small smile on her lips.

I held the front door open. “Leave.”

Losing the smile, she stood. “Please, Mason, talk to me for a minute. Let me explain.”

I laughed. “Explain? As if what I saw needed any explanation.”

She walked toward me. “Let me apologize, then. Please, I didn’t—”

“Don’t even go there.” I pointed to the door. “Leave or I’ll make you leave.”

For a moment, she didn’t move. She just looked at me with puppy eyes, as if that was enough to forgive her. Christ, I didn’t want to have to push her out. I was afraid my rage would get the best of me and I would end up using too much force and hurting her. And, even though I hated her right now, I wasn’t that kind of man.

She averted her eyes, nodded, and left.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as I slammed the door close behind her.

Sorry wasn’t enough.

I rested my forehead against the cool wood and took a deep breath. Way to ruin my perfect week.

I heard her car speeding away and I relaxed, but not as much as I wanted. I needed something strong to drink. If it weren’t so early in the day, I would have grabbed a beer from the fridge. Instead, I turned on the coffeemaker and plopped down on a chair at the kitchen table.

Damn girl ruined my life three weekends ago.

I had plans to spend the weekend away with Matt, taking him to scout colleges in the region, but we ended up coming back earlier than expected, and when I went to her apartment to surprise her, I found her in bed with another guy. She even tried the famous line, “It isn’t what it seems,” but come on! They were naked and moaning and … ugh, I didn’t want to think about it. To make things worse, I found out she cheated on me all the time, and with guys I knew from college. I had dedicated three years of my life to that lying bitch.

That was why I was so happy to fall into Charlotte’s arms. It was as if she was sent by heaven to appease my broken heart. To be my rebound girl. It had worked, on some level. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Even mad at Tamara, I was glad for Charlotte.

“I see someone must have had quite the night,” my mother said, entering the kitchen.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Just past nine in the morning. Usually, she was up before seven, but on Sundays, she never woke up before eleven.

“Hi, Mom.” I stood and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet behind me. “You’re the one who let Tamara in?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you knew I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t want to see her.”

“Well, she seemed desperate. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to hear whatever she had to say.” She sat down on a chair, pulling her robe tight around her body, and I gave her a mug filled with steaming coffee.

Tamara had been like a daughter to my mother, and I thought my mother refused to believe what she had done.

I sat down again. “It hurts. Please, don’t let her in again.”

“If that’s what you want.” She sipped from her mug. “I know you’re twenty-three, and you have even been talking about getting your own place for over a year now, but I worry about you, and I worry even more when you spend six nights in a row sleeping away from your own bed.”

The only reason I hadn’t gotten my own place was because I didn’t have any money. Rent here in this beach town was too steep, and my bartending cash was used to pay for my tuition at the nearest college. Our 1,200-square-foot home, and the fact that Matt and I both didn’t own a car even though we had been working since we were fourteen, was a proof of how much my family struggled to get by.

“I’m fine. I just needed some time.”

She reached across the table and patted my hand, a kind smile on her lips. “I know. Still, I’m your mother. I barely saw you this past week. You just came to change your clothes. Sometimes you just came home to pick up more clothes; you didn’t even shower here.”

I sighed. “It was spring break, Mom. Everything will go back to normal now.”

She tilted her head, examining me with her knowing eyes. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun, and like this, she looked sixty-five instead of forty-seven.

“What is normal?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Go back to my masters. Study. Work.” And hope one of the transfer applications I sent to colleges all over the country two weeks ago, without anyone knowing, came back with positive news.

My mother wasn’t happy about the prospect of me leaving her house to move to an apartment in town. If I was accepted somewhere else, she would be devastated. Nevertheless, I had to leave. I wanted to leave. It was the only way I could see myself getting over what Tamara did to me.

“It sounds like you have everything figured out,” my mother said, but her eyes didn’t look as convincing as her voice.

Tired, I stood. “I think so.” I placed my half-empty mug in the sink, aware of my mother’s gaze on my back. I walked to the door, but stopped before exiting. “I’m gonna try to catch up on sleep.”

My mother nodded and I left before she could say or ask anything else. Between leaving Charlotte and seeing Tamara, I felt physically and emotionally drained, and I didn’t want to talk anymore.

I closed my bedroom door and plopped down on my bed, willing my mind blank so I could sleep without dreaming.

Chapter Four

Charlotte

The taxi stopped at the Executive Mansion’s gates. I tipped the driver and quickly got out of the car, dragging my suitcase behind me.

Since leaving California and Mason, I felt like dragging everything. My suitcase, myself, my life, my lies.

I had never lied about something this big before, and for some reason, I knew I wouldn’t feel the same about me, about my life ever again. This spring break had been a big thing, and not only because of Mason and the fact that we barely left the bedroom. It had messed with my balance, with my independence.

As the taxi drove away, I took a deep breath and entered my pin on the keypad. The gates opened and, ignoring the security guards spread through the yard, I walked the circular path to the front steps, uneager about arriving at my own house. My eyes followed the square outline of the white house and I shuddered. The fountain in the middle of the circular path was turned on, of course, the water bubbling sound still unfamiliar. We had been living here for two years and it still didn’t feel like home.

I grabbed my keys from my purse and unlocked the double green doors. Being Sunday evening, I hoped my mother would be at a business dinner somewhere else. No such luck. My mother was working in her private office.

On tiptoes, I tried to cross through the doorway without being noticed and get up the stairs to my bedroom.

“How was the trip?” my mother’s cold voice reached my ears, and I stiffened.

Suppressing a groan, I dropped my suitcase, whirled, and faced my mother. “Good.”

Even at home, my mother wore suits, heels, makeup, and jewels. Lots and lots of jewels.

My mother’s brown eyes pierced me, a disapproving glint in them, as she let go of the papers she was reading and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her desk, her hands clasped tightly.

“When are you going to stop going on such foolish trips?”

She asked as if I had been going away for spring breaks for five years. I guess she didn’t really remember this had been my first spring break as a college student.

I drew in a long breath, gathering courage to speak up. “The idea is to keep going until I graduate.”

“Your father would never let you go on these trips,” she said, as if she deserved the mother-of-the-year award. Far from that. “He would never let your wear those clothes.” Typical. My mother always turned it all to my late father. “Did you behave? Did you do anything that will embarrass me?”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five … One more calming breath. “I’m nineteen. An adult.”

“Then act like one,” my mother snapped. “Until you do, you’re a teenager. My responsibility. And I expect you to behave. I’ll repeat the question. Did you do anything that will mark my reputation?”

Of course, her reputation. Peyton McClain, as Virginia’s governor and planning to run for the presidency in a few years, had a huge reputation to maintain. And I had to maintain it too.

I thought about Mason. My heart squeezed, missing him. I wished I was a rebellious daughter and brave enough to tell my mother I slept with some stranger for a whole week and, well, if someone ended up posting it in the tabloids, so be it. But I wasn’t rebellious. Exactly the opposite. I was the perfect daughter. Always had been. The strange part was, it never bothered me before. Yeah, I had to attend too many balls and events, hear about politics, sit through boring dinners, and go out with some friends I didn’t really consider that close, but that was okay. I didn’t feel like I was someone else completely. I was just good at playing pretend.

Once a week I met with Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca. We went out for skating or drawing or simply holed up in Liana’s house and watched a movie, or talked boys, like any normal girls. No politics, no fancy gowns, and no seven-course meals with silver cutlery and crystals goblets. Just my girls and me. That was all I needed. I never once had thought about breaking away, about openly disagreeing with my mother, of running from this life. Never.

Until now.

Through gritted teeth, I answered, “No.”

“Good.” My mother leaned back, taking the papers into her hands once more.

Dying to leave and smash something to release my clamped anger, I asked, “Anything else?”

“Yes.” My mother’s gaze, still cold and resolute, shifted to mine. “In two weeks, I have important commitments in Washington, D.C. Don’t schedule anything for that weekend.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but I knew better. Instead, I lowered my gaze and my voice. “Do I need to come?”

“Of course you do. The people love to see how happy our family is.” Was she kidding? Happy? Us? A family, just the two of us? “Besides, we need to find you a good young man with a brilliant political future to marry. There will be plenty of candidates in Washington that weekend.”

Oh, joy! A good young man with a brilliant political future! My mother had planned my entire life for me since before my birth. Besides my weekly meetings with my friends, who my mother didn’t know and wouldn’t approve of, my life was ruled by my mother.

A lump in my throat, I nodded and whispered, “As you wish.”

***

Charlotte

Even my major wasn’t of my choosing.

Not that I didn’t like political studies, but perhaps if I hadn’t been “enthusiastically encouraged” into it, I would actually enjoy it. At least my mother stopped pushing me into politics. Instead, she now made plans for my brilliant future as a famous lawyer or a judge.

My mother had been acting even more distant since I had gotten back from spring break a month ago, so it was a surprise to see the black Lincoln my mother rode in parked in front of one of the college buildings.

I had my own car. Why was my mother picking me up?

Smoothing the sudden surprise, but with a wary furrow shaping my brows, I slid in the backseat with my mother. She looked impeccable, as always, her legs folded and her back straight as if it had being nailed to a wooden board.

“What happened?”

“I’m leaving for an important meeting, but need to talk to you about something.”

Acid churned deep in my stomach. My mother never came to tell me something. When we needed to talk, she waited for me at the Executive Mansion. This couldn’t be good.

“The son of Senator Williams is here in Richmond, and I promised his father you would go out with him tonight.”

The acid in my stomach burned, melting my guts. “What?”

My mother’s eyes fixed on mine, outrage spilling from them, wrapping around me, suffocating me. “Is that a retort?”

I held my breath. “No.”

“Good.” She faced the front of the car again, as if the driver was invisible. “His name is Donnie. He’s going to pick you up at seven and take you out for a nice dinner. Then show him the city. His driver knows Richmond, so he’ll know the places you name.”

“Okay,” I said, my tone small, just as I felt.

“Now go.” My mother waved me off. “I’m on a schedule here.”

I opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, each of my feet weighted like two lead bars. “Bye.” I closed the door behind me.

The dark window went down and my mother leaned into it. “Do me a favor and pick something I would pick to wear. None of your short skirts or gigantic heels.” Her disapproving eyes ran the length of my body, examining the jean skirt and the wedges I had on. “Make me proud.”

Unable to move, my gaze followed the sleek car as it drove away.

When it rounded the corner, my cell phone rang. I checked the screen before answering. “Hey, Liana.”

“Are you coming?” my friend asked, her voice tense.

“I can’t go.”

“Uh-oh.” Liana tsked. “Your mother again?”

I snorted. “What else?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” I sighed. “It’s just … it’s been harder since spring break. I don’t know. Before it was easy to go along and blend in. Sometimes, I even had fun. It was … okay. Now? Now I’m having a really hard time blending in and pretending to care.”

“Oh, hon. I honestly think you are the strongest girl I ever met. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t have last half a day.”

And I had been doing this for years. Why, goddammit, did I need to feel bothered about it now? I could have gone another nineteen years oblivious to the outside world, not knowing how much fun normal people had. How nice it could be not to care about paparazzi, rumors, reputations, and careers. But that was only a dream for me.

I exhaled, trying to eliminate the tight feeling in my chest. Once more, I had to miss our skate date because of my mother. “Say hi to MaryAnn and Becca, please. Have fun.”

“You have fun with whatever the evil queen wants you to do.”

I grimaced. I hated the nickname Liana had given my mother. I ended the call and whispered to myself, “Here is hoping.”

***

Charlotte

Donnie showed up in the driveway of the Executive Mansion exactly at 7 p.m., wearing a brown suit and a yellow tie, and with the posture of a ballet dancer. Besides his neat grooming and his wide smile, Donnie looked like a young politician in training, exactly the way my mother liked.

A shudder ran through my body as I rested my hand on his outstretched one. He kissed it and led me to the Rolls-Royce.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

I suppressed the desire to roll my eyes at him. As my mother had requested, I chose a caramel pencil skirt and a burgundy shirt with a low V-neck. My long dark hair was up in a tight ponytail. I may look beautiful, but like this, I didn’t feel like myself.

“Thanks.”

Without another word, I tilted my face away and stared out the window, my mind traveling in time and my body longing for the memories left on a beach in California. The car started moving, taking me away with a guy I didn’t want to get to know.

Why couldn’t I find a Mason type in this life my mother chose for me?

Chapter Five

Mason

I closed the box with tape, and then opened an empty one. I grabbed a few pants and shirts from my closet and threw them inside the box.

“You don’t need to go so soon, you know.” My mother leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed.

Her eyes were swollen. She had been crying since last evening, when I told my father and her about my transfer. But what was I supposed to do? I had been accepted to a great college on the East Coast, and with a good scholarship. Right now, my only focus was my structural engineering master degree and there was no way I wouldn’t accept it. Not when the other option was to stay here and be the same, do the same: go to the nearest college without a scholarship, work to pay my expensive tuition, and be worried about bumping into Tamara everywhere I went.

“I know.” I went to my closet and grabbed a few more things.

Though my classes began mid-August, I didn’t see the point in staying in town for the summer. I would only work the next three months and I could do that in Washington, D.C. Besides, it would be nice to get to know the city and make some friends before classes started.

“So you’ll just leave? You could wait until June. Just two more weeks until June. Please?”

I turned to her and tried to will my voice to be gentle. “Mom, you know I wouldn’t live in your house forever. I was planning on leaving anyway.” Not sure how I would have accomplished that, but still. I had wanted to move out for the longest time.

“Yes, but when you talked about it, it was still in town. I would probably see you every day.”

I sighed. “Again, Mom, you can’t expect me to always be around. I need to live my own life. Like you did. Didn’t you move away from your parents when you were about my age? And you never went back?”

She averted her eyes. “That’s different.”

I chuckled. “And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Because you’re my son. I was young and alone and trying to make my life.”

“And what I am?”

“Please, don’t act like you’re more mature than me. This is hard.”

I walked to her and embraced her. “I’ll always be your son, Mom, no matter where I go or what I do. I promise to call often, okay?”

“It won’t be the same.”

“I know.”

Stiffening, my mother pulled back. “I should go make dinner.” She left without looking at me again.

She descended the stairs in a rush and I shook my head. She was never good at hiding her emotions, but she was good at running away whenever the situation became too much for her to bear. It was her defense mechanism.

I went back to the boxes and packing. One more week of classes and research, then I would be gone. I was already looking for apartments and gigs around Washington. I couldn’t wait. Only thinking about it brought a certain lightness to me, as if I soon would be free.

I opened one of the dresser’s drawers and picked up my running and workout clothes. I found my running shoes under the bed and threw them in the box. Between finals, presentations, and packing this last week, I would be too busy to go to the gym. I would catch up after I found my new place in Washington.

I heard voices coming from my window. I leaned against the glass, watching as my mother cried, talking to my father. I glanced at my wristwatch. It was past six already. I had been so absorbed in packing and moving on, I hadn’t noticed time passing.

My father pulled my mother into his arms and embraced her. He ran his fingers through her hair and whispered in her ear. Such a sweet, carefree gesture. I had grown up seeing and admiring my parents’ love and affection. I was raised to think I would have that kind of relationship too. I thought I had found it with Tamara. Just to find out she cheated on me all the time.

I shuddered. Now, it was hard to believe that even my parents were truly happy together. Maybe it was appearance, pretend, so everyone would think that they were the perfect couple, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew I was just jealous of their near-perfect relationship and trying to come up with excuses to feel better.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that I was finally taking the necessary measures to recover. I was moving away from Tamara and all our memories that were cemented in this town—even though I had new ones, happy ones, with a mysterious girl. It had been two months since spring break, and each time I remembered Charlotte, I smiled.

Then I remembered she was gone and I had no idea who she really was. Anyway, I was moving on from both girls. I was going to immerse myself in my studies, I was going to find some gigs around the city to make some cash, and I would hook up with pretty girls without even thinking about serious relationships. I was sick of lies. If not getting involved was what I needed to do to never hurt again, then so be it. I was ready.

***

Mason

Since my mother couldn’t stop crying, she stayed home and Matt drove me to the airport. Brody wanted to come too, but he had some family event to attend.

Matt insisted on parking the car, coming inside with me, and waiting until it was time for me to pass the security check and board the airplane, but I wouldn’t do that to him. I wanted to just hop out of the car, go through the check-in, and wait by the gate.

Anxiety and dread danced in my chest as Matt stopped the car in front of the departure area. This was it. Me, starting anew. Making my own destiny. Living my own life, with my own devices.

We stepped out the car, and Matt helped me take my bags from the trunk. When my three bags were on the sidewalk, I extended my hand to my brother. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.” He took my hand and shook it hard. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“You too. You can come visit me any time you want.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, as if I had money to pay for a ticket to D.C. any time I wanted.”

I shook my head. “Well, then you better starting saving some now.”

“I will,” he said, staring straight at me.

Leaving my little brother was harder than I thought. He had been my best friend since he was born, and because of our tight conditions, none of us had left home. We had stuck together, done everything together. Until now.

“Take care, Matt,” I said.

“You too. Go rock the world,” he joked.

Shaking my head, I picked up my bags and entered the check-in counter. I checked in, I got rid of my bags, I went through security, and sometime later, I boarded the plane.

When it took off, I looked down, to where I was born and raised, to the place I had never left my entire life. In a way, I would miss it, but I was ready.

I looked to the horizon, past my small town, past California, and took a deep breath.

To new beginnings.

***

Mason

I stared at the door of the apartment, then to the piece of newspaper in my hand. This was the one from the ad, all right. The building was dark and dirty, and the apartments’ doors were a sick, fading green. This one in particular was worse. The number six from sixteen had twisted down on its screw, the edges of the metal covered in rust.

Okay, it was bad, but I had gone to the others I had added to a list before coming to D.C. and none was good enough. The good ones were too expensive, and the cheap ones were crap. I just wanted to find a decent one, and this had to be it. I had been up and down all day and I was exhausted.

Holding my breath, I knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing a thin guy with round glasses and a joystick in his hand. “Can I help you?”

I showed him the newspaper. “I’m here because of the ad.”

“Oh, sweet. Come on in.” He retreated and let me in. “I’m David Brown.”

I told him my name and we shook hands.

Besides the outer part of the building, the apartment looked nice. It was small, but clean. A sitting area with a large TV and a Play Station 4, an adjacent kitchen, and down a small hallway, three doors: two tiny bedrooms and a bathroom.

“This one would be yours,” the guy said, opening the door to one of the bedrooms. It had a queen bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a tiny closet. Better than most I had seen. “I know it’s not much, but it’s probably the best you can get for this price range.”

I sat down on the mattress. Not too bad. “Yeah, it’s been a hard day.”

“I know. I’ve been there,” David said.

We walked back to the living room. I decided to talk to the guy, get to know him. He was in the first year of his masters of a chemical engineering degree, he worked in research at the university, and he liked to play video games and watch action movies. I told him about looking for a job until I started working at the university. Well, even so, I would probably need some extra work here and there.

“Bartending, huh?” David pulled two beers from the fridge and gave one to me. “There’s a bunch of clubs and bars and restaurants downtown. I’m sure if you go around, you’ll find plenty of jobs. Oh, and there are always plenty of events around the city. You should contact some catering companies. They’re always in need of extra hands.”

Hmm, that sounded promising. Much better than in my hometown, Nowhereville in Central California, which only had movement during spring break or summer.

I sat down my beer and grinned. “All right, man, I think I’m staying.”

***

Charlotte

“Oh my God, I’m gonna be late.” I groaned as I took out my roller skates and threw them in the trunk of my car. Thank God my mother never got close to my car, otherwise she would freak out and complain her daughter wasn’t the one she knew with those skates and the chalk and the paints.

Well, I wasn’t.

“Calm down.” Liana closed the trunk and handed my purse back. “If you don’t calm down, then you’re gonna be late.”

I slipped into my car. “Are you going back to Washington now?” When I couldn’t go to Washington for over two weeks because of my mother’s schedule, Liana came to Richmond so we could skate together. That was what true friends did for each other.

“I’ll probably stop by Starbucks first. After all, it’s Monday and that cutie is probably working.”

I shook my head. Liana had been flirting with a college guy who worked at Starbucks here in Richmond for ages. “It’s the last week of May, Liana. You don’t know if he already left for the summer.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” She winked. “We can’t be the only dorks who take a bunch of classes during summer, right?”

“We sure aren’t.” I smiled. “All right. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Your hands!” Liana said, a finger pointed to my hands around the wheel.

My gaze fell to my palms. They were multicolored with chalk dust. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

“Wipe it on your seat before leaving the car. She won’t notice. You can take your car to wash later.” Liana glanced at her wristwatch. “Now go!”

I sped away, fighting the urge to bite my dirty nails. A little prayer surged in my mind, hoping my mother wouldn’t be home and see my hands like that. Oh, if my hands were like that, so were my knees. And possibly my shorts too.

Of course, my mother was home. We were supposed to leave for Washington in thirty minutes, for a fancy ball celebrating Memorial Day. Peyton McClain stood in front of the house, watching as her employees carried her luggage to the car.

To gain time, I parked the car in the back of the house and ran into the Executive Mansion through the kitchen.

Please, still be outside. Please, still be outside.

I reached the second floor when my mother called me. “Where were you?”

My heart stilled. Slowly, I turned to my mother, keeping my hands behind my back. “At Starbucks with Tracy.” I didn’t like lying to my mother.

“Oh, good. How is she?”

The tension in my shoulders melted away. “She’s fine. Her father is traveling on business so she drove here to meet with me. Beats being alone in her house.” That part wasn’t a lie. Tracy’s father was always traveling.

Her sharp eyes dropped to my shorts. “Are you ready to go?”

“I just need to change and pick up my bags.”

There was a moment of silence as those brown eyes examined me. I forgot how to breathe for a second, expecting my mother to find out all my secrets.

“Hurry.”

My mother walked out and I almost fell on the stairs.

Chapter Six

Charlotte

“You look beautiful,” Donnie said, wiping his glasses on a handkerchief, as I descended the front stairs of the hotel, holding the skirt of my long champagne gown up so as not to trip.

By my side, my mother held her light gray gown up on the stairs. Wearing neutral colors, we both looked elegant and formal, the way my mother liked.

I plastered a smile on my face and halted before the opened limo door. “Thanks.”

Elegant in a tuxedo, Donnie helped us both into the limo. The corners of his mouth looked like they would snap from his wide grin.

Why couldn’t I think he was handsome and good boyfriend material? Well, he certainly was cute and he could make a terrific boyfriend for someone in my position. Yet, my heart didn’t race each time he held my hand, and I couldn’t surrender the few times he leaned in to kiss me.

My mother held all attention during the short ride, hosting an enthusiastic discussion about politics with Donnie, who seemed happy about the subject.

I, though, fought against the rising discomfort in my stomach. The night would be long and boring.

Trying to calm my mind, I looked out the window to the streets of Washington. Two minutes and I regretted it—roller skaters rushed on the sidewalk and, a block ahead, we passed a gallery exhibiting charcoal drawings.

My distress grew once we emerged into the fancy ballroom and the swarm of mostly unknown faces closed in around us, greeting us and ushering us in.

My mother glided with grace and talked to everyone. Every single person in the huge room. One thing I couldn’t deny—my mother was an excellent people person. Except with her own daughter.

Donnie fell into the same dance, and I followed, as a proper date, though I kept my mind on the enormous crystal chandeliers, the large windows under heavy velvet curtains that led to outer balconies, and the beautifully arranged flowers on the tables.

If it depended on me, I would ditch Donnie and leave the party. Well, if it depended on me, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place, with a date I didn’t like or want to like, and strange people who I didn’t care about.

However, people wanted to talk to me too. Thanks to my mother, I was active and known in the political circle. Old and new faces approached me, wanting to know how I was, how school was, if Donnie and I would step up and assume our relationship, and to tell me they were thinking of my father today.

Donnie lunged into a heated conversation with a couple of senators and other politicians, forgetting about my presence for a minute. Enough time for me to take a breather.

I retreated a few steps, and then dashed to the other side of the ballroom, hoping to find some known and almost friendly faces to hide with.

With quick steps, I almost ran over a waiter in a white and black uniform.

“Sorry,” I mumbled to his back.

My heart leapt to my throat and then fell back into my chest, weighting like a dead stone. The waiter turned around, his eyes wide at my face.

“Charlotte,” Mason whispered.

The memories rushed into my mind, my cheeks warming.

Mason was here. Mason is here! My heart pounded against my ribs, so fast it almost hurt. Oh, I had missed him.

The noises of flutes clinking, heels on the floor, and the classical music brought me back, and I put my mask back on, one he didn’t know. “Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes running up and down my fancy gown. “You’re one of them.”

Not a question. He wasn’t stupid, and a few seconds was enough to figure out I was one of them.

Swallowing my nervousness, I eyed sideways. No sign of my mother, but I couldn’t risk it. “Excuse me.”

In a haste, I walked around him, to one of the tall doors behind the heavy curtains, and onto one of the balconies. Unusually cold for May, a chilly breeze bit into my shoulders but I didn’t care. Long breaths of that air would calm me down.

Oh my God, Mason is here. Here! And he had seen me with this crowd.

My mind swam, fighting the enraged tide and failing. My body ached, longing for Mason. If I surrendered to it, I would run back inside the room and throw my arms around him in front of everyone.

Then my mother would freak and kill me.

No. I hadn’t been raised for that.

Slow, deep breaths.

I had been raised to go back in there, to put on a plastic smile, and to dance with Donnie as if Mason had never been in my life. But I couldn’t do that either. My only solution was to pretend to feel unwell and leave. I just hoped Donnie didn’t offer to accompany me to the hotel and stay.

First, I had to calm my racing heart. Slow, deep breaths. Slow, deep breaths. Slow, deep …

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason’s voice sent my heart into a race again.

I whirled and found him near the closed door, standing tall with his hands inside his pant pockets, his gaze downcast.

Even with the waiter uniform, Mason looked as handsome as ever, as energetic and charming and determined as ever. He had combed his hair tonight, probably to look more professional, but a few strands had fallen over his hazel eyes. I wanted to reach over and fix those strands. No. I wanted to run both my hands through his hair and dishevel it, the way I liked it.

Heat crept up my cheeks and I pushed those thoughts away. “I didn’t think it mattered,” I answered, putting my hands behind my back, hoping it was enough to stop their shaking.

“So, what is it? Are you a politician? Is that why you’re here?”

I pressed my lips together, my mind concocting a lie. But why lie now? “My mother is the state governor. Peyton McClain. I came with her.”

His eyes widened for half a second before frowning. “The one everyone is betting will run for president in a few years?”

“She will run for president.”

“That’s big.”

“Yes, it is.”

A stare showdown began as I willed my heart to slow down. The crackling silence made my breathing shallow.

“What now?”

“What do you mean?”

Mason took a few steps into my direction. “Will you pretend you don’t know me?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and averted my eyes. “It’s for the best.”

“For whom?”

For my mother. Of course, I would never say that out loud. An edge of curiosity gnawed in my chest and I asked instead, “What are you doing here? How come you’re on the other side of the country?”

“I transferred grad schools here. I start in August.”

“But that’s in two, almost three months.”

“I just wanted to come.”

My eyes widened and a heavy feeling—like a stone dropping in my gut—robbed me of air. “You knew who I was, where I was from!”

Mason shook his head, taking a step toward me. “No. I swear I didn’t. This is a huge coincidence.”

“Coincidences aren’t welcome in my life.”

“Believe me; I’m as shocked as you are.”

He did sound surprised and somewhat glad too. This wasn’t right. Crap, Mason was now living close to me, and we met on the West Coast. Was it divine intervention? Should I spend some time thinking about its meaning?

No, no time to waste. In fact, I was stalling. I had to get back before someone noticed my absence.

“I need to go.” I walked around him, but Mason’s hand on my arm stopped me. Warmth spread from his skin to mine. Our eyes met and I gasped from the intensity of his gaze. I had forgotten how breathtaking he was.

“Do you have any idea how glad I am that I found you again?” He pulled me closer to him. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He leaned over me, his face close to mine.

The incredible scent of his aftershave—woody and spicy mixed with something else so manly and just his—wrapped around me. My head spun and I involuntarily lift my head toward him.

“Don’t do this,” I whispered.

“Why not?” Disappointment laced his words, but he let go of my arm.

I swallowed the excitement I felt over seeing him again and whispered, “You wouldn’t understand.”

With all my resolve and some more, I returned to the ballroom. I felt dizzy and nauseated. The heavy liquor and candle wax smell didn’t help one bit.

“There you are,” Donnie said, walking up to me.

“I was outside, getting some fresh air.” With the plastic smile on, I let Donnie put my hand on his arm. Without meaning to, I looked over my shoulder and saw Mason in the balcony door, his eyes on my date and me. “I’m not feeling well,” I said, glad I wasn’t lying.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that to you. I know what these kind of events mean to a politician.”

Donnie smile widened. “I’m glad to see you care. However, right now, I care about you more. Let’s take you to the hotel.”

I let Donnie guide me out. Now, I had about ten minutes to figure out an excuse to prevent him from staying with me.

***

Mason

I couldn’t just leave the ball as Charlotte had. No. I had to stay there, serving those pompous people and remembering she was one them. And who was that guy with her? Her boyfriend? Was he her boyfriend during spring break?

Shit, I wanted to hit something. Instead, when hidden in the kitchen, I drank one or two flutes of champagne, and took a deep breath.

I got back to my apartment at four in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep. I turned on my computer and googled Charlotte and her mother.

Thousands of pictures and articles popped up on the screen. Charlotte, from a young age, in several gowns and pencil skirts and shirts, with her hair pulled up and too much makeup. She was always smiling, as if she was as happy as anyone could be. I scrolled through pictures of her debutant ball, her first day in prep school, helping during her mother’s campaigns, and lots of gossip websites trying to match her with other rich guys.

I clicked on Wikipedia.

Charlotte Anne McClain (born December 18) is the daughter of George McClain and Peyton Sofia McClain. She attends the political science program at the University of Richmond, and intends to apply for law school afterward.

So, she was one of them!

Eager to find out more, I kept reading:

Charlotte was born and raised in Washington, D.C.

Her father, George McClain, was an admired soldier in the U.S. Army. After retiring, he joined the Republican Party and became mayor of Washington, D.C., soon after. He planned on running for the Senate. However, he was assassinated in a terrorist attack during an overseas military award ceremony months before the election.

Her mother, Peyton McClain, who had always been active during her husband’s campaign and political life, received his endorsement from the Republican Party. She’s the current governor of Virginia. Charlotte and her mother have lived in the Executive Manson in Richmond since the last election.

Charlotte was twelve when her father died. Since then, she has been raised by her conservative mother. Charlotte has training in classical ballet, piano and violin, horseback riding, and knows French, Spanish, and Italian fluently.

There are rumors that despite her near perfect education, Charlotte doesn’t plan to engage in a political career.

At the bottom of the page, there was a picture of Charlotte and a red-haired girl. They held hands and smiled widely. The caption read Charlotte McClain and her best friend, Tracy Graham.

Best friend? I thought Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca were Charlotte’s best friends. During those six days we spent together, she hadn’t mentioned Tracy, but she mentioned something about Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca being her real friends. Once more, I was reminded that I knew nothing about her.

I closed that page and ended up on the images search. A new photo popped up—one from a gossip website. Charlotte arriving at tonight’s ball, her arm linked with that guy I saw her with. The caption read Charlotte McClain and her date, Donnie Williams, son of Senator Williams—voted the future’s most powerful couple.

I punched the table.

She was smiling in that picture, looking straight at the camera.

Why then? She didn’t look as if she liked this life when she was in California with me.

Chapter Seven

Charlotte

An involuntary pang of jealousy took hold of me each time I saw Liana working on a project for one of her art classes. This time was no different.

I sat in a chair across the kitchen table, playing with the box of pastels while Liana leaned over a large piece of paper, drawing away. My fingers itched to help, to work on an art project of my own.

With great effort¸ I stood and refilled my coffee mug. I inhaled deeply, savoring the strong scent. Since we had become friends, during an art class in middle school in Washington, before I left the public system to go to a fancy prep school, I nicknamed her mother’s kitchen coffeeland—the most perfect place in the world. Coffee was always ready, as was some kind of cookie or cake. The mismatching colorful cushions of the kitchen’s chairs added a happy note, and the tiny bay window let the sun shine through, bringing even more warmth to the place. Most importantly, her mother and her father were always around. Liana’s older sister lived in Texas now, but she had been a big part of this place too.

I certainly felt much better here than in my house’s kitchen, with the industrial stainless steel appliances and stark white cabinets, two cooks, and a server.

“What do you think?” Liana held the paper up, showing the pretty landscape drawing. She had used only black pastel and still the texture and shadows seemed lifelike.

“It’s amazing,” I whispered.

“It really is,” said Joan, Liana’s mother, as she entered the kitchen.

Liana pointed to four silhouettes on the corner of the paper. “It’s the four of us—MaryAnn, Becca, you, and me—in Cali.”

Oh, I saw it now. The rocks surrounding the beach were on the opposite corner. It was perfect. Almost as perfect as being there with Mason.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “It looks awesome.”

“Thanks,” Liana said, smiling.

Liana went back to the drawing’s touch-ups as Joan grabbed a few plates from the cabinets and headed outside, where Liana’s father was preparing the grill for the barbecue.

I glanced at the clock on my cell phone. Five in the afternoon of a Saturday. MaryAnn couldn’t be sleeping at this hour, could she? Well, if MaryAnn and Becca didn’t arrive soon, I would have to leave without seeing them.

“Where do you think MaryAnn and Becca are?” I leaned against the counter and sipped from my coffee.

Liana stood and stared at her drawing. “MaryAnn is flirting with the new guy working at the auto shop one block from here. They are probably there now, pretending there’s something wrong with MaryAnn’s car.”

I laughed. Typical. MaryAnn threw her charms left and right, and she usually had her basket full.

Liana’s eyes found mine. “Speaking of flirting, won’t you tell me more about Mason? I still can’t believe he was at the ball.”

I groaned. “Me neither.”

“Come on. Tell me more!”

“What’s there to tell?” I set my mug down and crossed my arms, irritated for feeling nervous just thinking of Mason. Five days had passed, and I still couldn’t stop thinking about him. “He was there. Just like that.”

Liana sighed. “It sounds like a fairy tale.”

“What?”

“Think about it. He’s here, in Washington! It can’t be coincidence.”

Yeah, that was one of the things that crossed my mind. It couldn’t be coincidence. Mason must have found out who I was and had come to torment me. “It has to be,” I whispered. The last thing I wanted was to find out he was a psycho, or a serial killer.

“What if it isn’t?” Liana said. “He was pretty great during spring break and he did tell you he was happy to see you again.”

Why had I told Liana that? “Well, you know it’s not that simple.”

“I know, but nothing in life is simple.”

I rolled my eyes, tired of the subject. I glanced at the clock—5:30 p.m.—and pushed away from the counter. “I can’t wait any longer.” I picked my bag from the floor. “Can I go to your room?”

Liana gave me an are-you-crazy look. “As if you needed to ask.”

With a smile, I made my way into the house, trying to clear my mind of anything that could remind me of Mason.

At Liana’s bedroom, I closed the door, settled my bag over my friend’s bed, and opened the zipper. I took a backless burgundy dress I had chosen because the material didn’t wrinkle, and my black pumps out of the bag. Feeling as if I was peeling off my true skin, I slipped from the jean skirt, the tank top, and my sandals, and put on the clothes my mother would approve.

I brushed my hair aside, leaving my back naked, and sat down in front of the vanity to apply more makeup when Joan entered.

“I wish you could stay for dinner with us for once,” Joan said.

I met her eyes through the mirror. “I wish I could to.”

Joan stood behind me and squeezed my shoulders. “Liana told me you aren’t feeling too good about the way you lead your life anymore. She said you’re complaining about having to hide more than a couple of months ago. Is there something bothering you? Did something change?”

I sighed. “I … I guess going on spring break with the girls spoiled me. But it’s stupid, isn’t it? Deep down I always envied people with normal lives, but spring break isn’t it either.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t only the trip. Perhaps it was the fact that your mother wasn’t there to tell you what to do, what to wear, what to say?” She shook her head. “Sorry. It isn’t my place to question these things.”

“No, it’s okay. I think you’re on to something.”

She smiled. “You know I like you the way you are when you’re with us, when you’re with the girls, but as a mother, I have to say it. Be honest with your mother. If you have changed, tell her how you really feel about your life now. She deserves to know.”

“I wish it was that easy.” I gazed down at the makeup kit in front of me. “Even if I told her about my real friends and my drawings and about roller skating, nothing would change. It would be worse, because then she would monitor me every second and I wouldn’t be able to sneak out, like now, and see my real friends. I would only have time for the friends she wants me to hang out with.”

Joan sighed. “I know. It’s just … I can’t imagine if Liana had a secret life from me.”

That was what set her apart from my mother. Joan cared. Peyton didn’t.

“Liana is blessed.”

“No, I am.” Joan leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I have two real daughters, and three adoptive ones.”

Joan patted my shoulder and exited the bedroom, leaving me alone with my unshed tears. A strong feeling of shame and sadness assaulted my chest, but I refused to give in. All my life, I was able to lock away my feelings and I would do it again.

I wiped away the tears and finished with the makeup.

Liana walked with me to the driveway, just as MaryAnn parked her car beside mine, with Becca in the passenger seat.

“You’re going?” MaryAnn asked as she slid out of her car. “Already?”

“You should have been here at least half an hour ago,” I said, trying not to be mad at her.

Becca walked around the car. “You have a party? I forgot.”

“Sorry,” MaryAnn said. “I didn’t realized your schedule was tight.”

I smiled, but it was a sarcastic smile. “When isn’t my schedule tight?”

MaryAnn averted her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “I gotta go. You girls have fun.”

Becca hugged me. “It would be more fun if you could stay.”

MaryAnn stepped in beside me. “Are you sure you can’t be a little late?”

I laughed. “Only if I want to have my head decapitated.”

“Ugh, that mother of yours. We should get together and riot,” MaryAnn said.

“I would be up for that,” Liana said. I shot her a don’t-give-MaryAnn-any-ideas look. “What? It would be fun to defeat the evil queen.”

I flinched. Damn, I hated that nickname.

MaryAnn giggled. “Oh, it would.”

Becca stepped in, always knowing when to save the day or change subjects. “Well, take care.”

“Try and have some fun,” Liana said as I slipped into my car.

Waving, I backed out my car and drove away. I stepped on the gas, and turned the volume of the stereo loud and sang along, hoping my frustration would evaporate.

Thirty minutes later, I was on the other side of Washington, driving past the gates of Tracy Graham’s house. My mother loved Tracy, a rich girl, the daughter of a successful CEO of a large multinational, whose money always ended up in Peyton’s campaign fund.

I stopped the car before the steps leading to the front door. A valet opened my door and guided me to the host, before turning to my car and taking it away.

“Good evening, Miss McClain,” the host said, opening the front door for me. “Miss Graham is in the backyard with her guests.”

He led me through the foyer and then down a long corridor that opened to a solarium, and through French doors to a white porch.

Tracy, two other girls, and five guys were seated around a round fireplace, all dressed in suits and cocktail dresses, crystal flutes in their hands, and smiles on their faces. Too picture perfect.

“Charlotte!” Tracy squealed, flipping her long red hair. She stood to greet me. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” I said, then greeted the others. I knew everyone. It was hard not to when the elite preferred to hang around together all the time.

“I called the club earlier.” Tracy sat down and patted a spot on the sofa for me to sit. “They confirmed the VIP area is going to be waiting for us.”

“Great,” I said, forcing my voice to sound enthusiastic.

A second later, a waiter showed up with a flute for me and offered me some appetizers.

In the next fifteen minutes, Tracy told them about her latest shopping trip to Milan, and eleven more guests arrived. They all stayed where they were all night, seated as if they were nailed to the sofas and chairs, eating expensive finger food and sipping expensive champagne, keeping up polite conversation and trying to find out who had spent more money the last month.

I looked at the stars. The sky was the same one from above Liana, Becca, and MaryAnn’s heads. Maybe if I closed my eyes, I could pretend to be there with them.

***

Mason

I buttoned up my black shirt and shoved on my shoes with determination. I was going out and I was going to get Charlotte out of my mind.

Since seeing her at that damned ball five days ago, I had been thinking about her nonstop. I even thought about going to the Executive Mansion, hiding on the other side of the street, waiting for her to come out, and begging her to talk to me.

But why? I had promised myself I wouldn’t have another serious relationship. At least, not so soon. Besides, she was out of my league. I didn’t need to waste my time thinking about her. It would never work.

A knock rattled through my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I said.

David stuck his head inside. “Ready? We should be going if we don’t want to be late.”

I glanced at the mirror. My hair was a mess. But who cared? Girls liked it like that, and oh, I intended to get Charlotte out of my mind the same way I forgot Tamara—finding some other girl. Although, this time, I would make sure it was a one-night stand. I didn’t have the heart to suffer another betrayal or separation.

I grabbed my wallet from my nightstand and spied into it to make sure there was a condom. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

David’s colleague was having a birthday party at a club, and he assured me it was okay to come with. The place should be huge and would have lots of people anyway. Besides, I needed the distraction. Working at clubs and bars wasn’t the same as being at them as a customer. It would be a nice change.

We arrived at the club a little after ten, and it was crowded. The place was huge, all right, with several thematic rooms, long bars, a gallery upstairs, and large glass doors that led to an open balcony.

David introduced me to his friends, and soon we were immersed in the group, talking, laughing, and drinking.

The birthday girl, Allie, was pretty and laughed easily. Given an opportunity, I started a conversation with her.

“David is a good friend,” she said, batting her lashes at me. She was totally flirting. “I’ve known him for over four years.”

She flipped her blond hair and told me about the research she worked on with David. Not interested in this type of engineering, I slapped a smile on my face and nodded accordingly, encouraging the woman to keep talking. Although, I hoped she would give me an opening soon, or I wouldn’t be kissing anyone tonight.

Maybe if I got her drunk, she would be quieter and more sensual.

I pointed to her empty glass. “Want a refill?”

“Yes, please.”

I took the glass from her and weaved my way to the bar. She was having some cheap red drink with almost no alcohol. I asked the bartender to put more vodka in it this time.

With the drink in hand, I turned my back to the bar, but didn’t move. Why was I doing this again? Allie was pretty, but not my type. She was also talkative and too excited about her work. Maybe the alcohol would make her talk even more. I was sure I could get her into bed one way or another, but did I want to? Sure, sex was always great, but after Charlotte, it would be hard to top.

With a sigh, I tipped the bartender to send the drink to Allie, and then leaned against the bar. Without a care in the world, I scanned the crowd. It was easy being as tall as I was. Most people here seemed to be college students, or a little older, but there were a few people who appeared to be in their forties or fifties.

I shuddered, hoping I wasn’t this desperate to be laid at that age. Well, I hadn’t actually thought about it. I was so convinced staying alone was the best solution for heartbreak, but I didn’t consider I would really be alone. I had never imagined growing old alone, and right now, I still couldn’t.

However, I didn’t need to solve that tonight. Tonight, I just wanted to relax and enjoy my night out.

My gaze shifted to the VIP area on the second floor. Red velvet couches and champagnes on the tables. The women wore elegant dresses and too much jewelry. The men wore fancy shirts and probably designer jeans or slacks. Even from here, they emanated power and affluence. Ugh, rich people.

A redhead entered one of the reserved areas, raising her arms and cheering with the friends already there. She looked right at home. Then she stepped to the side and another girl appeared from behind her.

Charlotte.

My heartbeat went up a few notches.

How incredible she was in a tight, dark red dress. Her hair was pulled to the side and, when she whirled to greet a guy, I gasped, realizing why: the dress was backless. My fingers itched to touch her skin again. Christ. I glared at no one. If I was drooling over her from here, the men around her would be eating her alive.

I wanted to charge there and prevent her from seducing one of them as she had me.

But she was quiet, almost too quiet. She seemed shy. With a flute in her hand, she retreated to the back of the closed area, avoiding everyone, even the redhead she came with. Then it clicked. The redhead was the girl from the picture. Tracy something. She was supposed to be Charlotte’s best friend, according to Wikipedia. Then why was she so aloof? Hiding wasn’t like Charlotte. At least, not the Charlotte I met. No, that Charlotte was determined, decided, seductive, and demanding. She had won me over with her contagious smile, her free spirit, her hungry gazes, and made me crazy in bed. She was loud, happy, and carefree. The girl I was watching most definitely wasn’t Charlotte.

I shouldn’t, but I wanted to go up to her, whisk her away, take her to my apartment, and beg her to be the same girl I met during spring break. I really shouldn’t but I wanted to.

I shut down the reasonable part of my brain and headed to the stairs. I stepped into the wide corridor leading to the VIP area, and saw Charlotte walking away from her friends. She was in a hurry and I dashed after her.

Charlotte took a right at the end of the hallway. I reached the corner and found another hallway, but this one was smaller and darker, with two doors—the ladies’ and the gentlemen’s restrooms.

I leaned against the wall directly before the ladies’ room and waited.

Ten minutes passed and she hadn’t come out yet. I had seen a few girls coming in and out, and I was starting to worry about her.

Fifteen minutes and I thought I had paid enough attention to comers and goers to know she should be alone in there.

Holding my breath, I pushed the door opened and stuck my head in. “Charlotte?”

She stood in front of the mirror, her head down. “Mason!” She whirled toward me. “What are you doing here?”

Christ, she really was beautiful. She didn’t have too much makeup on and she looked perfect. Although, I did like her natural do too.

I stepped inside and let the door close behind me. “I should ask you that. You’ve been in here for over fifteen minutes.”

“What … you’ve been following me?”

“What? I came with my roommate. I saw you entering the restroom and waited outside, but you were taking too long.”

“Sorry. I was just …” She pressed her lips in a thin line.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She beckoned to the door. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I was worried.”

She crossed her arms and stared into my eyes. She looked mad, but damn that didn’t stop me from wanting to back her up to the wall and attack her right here.

“Why?”

I didn’t know the answer to that, but I knew I wanted some answers myself. “Where’s your boyfriend. I didn’t see him out there.”

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Then who was that guy—?”

Two giggling girls entered the restroom and they stopped dead when they saw me.

I raised my palms. “Sorry.”

“He was leaving,” Charlotte said, pushing me past the girls and out the door.

I could feel her hands on my arms and I relished the brief contact, until we were outside and she kept walking away from me.

I held her arm and pulled her back into the dark hallway. “Wait.”

“Why are you doing this?”

I didn’t let go of her arm. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just … I guess I miss you.”

A small smile appeared on her lips. “Do you miss all the girls you hook up with during spring breaks? Oh, there’s summer too, right? Busy town during summers, right?”

Annoyance was making its way into me. “For your information, I am not that kind of guy.” Wasn’t I? That was what I said I would do. “I had the same girlfriend for three years before you.”

Her smile faded. “Please, Mason …”

“What?” I slid my hands up her arms, pulling her closer. “Tell me about it.” But she didn’t. She averted her eyes. “Why are you acting so stiff and reserved?”

She jerked away from me. “That’s who I am. I call it refined and educated. Or even elegant.”

She was certainly refined, educated, and elegant, but that wasn’t it. “No, no. You’re not like that. Come on. I saw you.”

“Who you saw is someone I cannot be.”

So, that was it. She couldn’t be like that here.

“But that’s who you are, isn’t it?” I walked up to her, towering over her, pushing her against the wall. “That’s who you have to be.”

Her eyes grew wide and she looked side to side, as if trying to find a way out of my trap.

“What are you going to do? Tell the world what a slut I am?” Her beautiful eyes filled with tears. “What do you want? Will you ask for money to stay quiet?”

I gave one step in her direction, bumping my legs onto hers—only a few inches separated my body from hers now—and reached around her, brushing my fingertips along the bare skin of her back.

“I want you,” I whispered in her ear. Her breath hitched, and I took pleasure in feeling her back arching with my touch, her body shivering with my breath.

Her hands grasped my arms. “Please,” she gasped.

I loved when she begged. “I want the real you. The one that spent six wonderful days with me.” I slid my tongue along her jaw and her nails dug into the skin of my arms. Damn, her scent was like drugs. I was addicted. “The one I know is in there. Let her out. For me.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. Then she pushed me back and, in tears, she dashed away.

Stunned, I watched as she stopped by the VIP area, said something to Tracy, and then ran downstairs.

I hurried after her, but when I got to the dance floor, I lost her.

Chapter Eight

Charlotte

Being the governor’s daughter was serious business. I had to attend several balls, meetings, and fundraisers, and visited nonprofit organizations. Before, it was a pastime. Now it was boring. The people were always smiling as if they had perfect lives, they dressed as if they were on runways, and they wasted fine food as if there was no hunger in the world. It was not only boring, but also disgusting.

“Are you going to keep frowning when we get there?” my mother asked from beside me on the Lincoln’s backseat.

I made sure my forehead wasn’t wrinkled and glanced her way. Peyton McClain looked regal in her indigo suit and pearls, her legs crossed and her back stiff.

I barely slept after leaving Mason behind at that club in Washington last night. I had gone with the friends my mother approved of, because I had promised I would, but it had all been an act. I showed up, played pretty, coy, and innocent, and then left. That was the plan, until Mason marched in the bathroom and took my breath away. How was I supposed to know I would meet him like that again?

I tried to sleep, but how could I when every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mason in front of me, teasing his fingertips on my bare skin, his mouth on my neck? I shivered just remembering. Tired of fighting with sleep that didn’t come, I got up early and was literally thrown into work with my mother. It was a goddamn Sunday and I wanted rest and peace, but my mother’s political career couldn’t wait.

“No,” I whispered. “I’ll smile, as I always do.”

Peyton narrowed her eyes. “I don’t expect anything less of you.”

Of course not.

The Lincoln rolled to a stop before a white building, and the chauffer helped us out. The only bright side of this outing was that Donnie had commitments with his father and couldn’t be with us.

Soon after our arrival, I was surprised to find this event wasn’t as bad as I first thought. My mother and I strolled through the big conference room, meeting families who had lost someone they loved because of the war. Most were wives and kids who had lost their fathers—soldiers in the Army.

Just like my mother and I had lost my father to terrorists.

Times like this I believed I could go through with this. I could try. I could even make a difference. Not being a politician. God, no. But being the wife of a politician. Organizing these events, bringing hope and comfort to people in need. It wasn’t all bad.

After I had spent a half hour circulating and talking and hugging, a small girl tugged on my pencil skirt. She was probably seven years old. Her blond hair fell down her back in tight curls and her big blue eyes shone with unshed tears.

“Is it true you lost your father too?” the girl asked.

I crouched before the girl. “Yes.”

A woman, with blond curls and bright hazel eyes, caught up with us. She held a toddler in her arms. “I’m so sorry. She just wandered off, saying she had to speak with you. I’m so, so sorry.” The woman held the girl’s arm.

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Natalia,” the girl said. “This is my mom, Jennie, and my little brother, Jacob.”

I shook Jennie’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” I stood, noticing my mom was right behind me. I stepped aside. “This is my mom, Peyton.”

“Hello,” Natalia said with a small smile.

When Peyton said nothing, I nudged her back.

“Oh, hello—” She shot me a confused look.

“Natalia,” I whispered.

“Hello, Natalia,” my mother said, regaining her composure. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, governor,” the girl said. “Charlotte was telling me she lost her father too.”

Peyton glanced at me, her eyes soft for the first time in a long time. I smiled.

“Yes, she did,” Peyton said. “She was only twelve when George was killed.”

“Honey,” Jennie hissed. “You’re bothering them.”

“It’s okay,” Peyton said, surprising me.

Natalia stared at me. “My mom always says we’ll be fine, that it’ll hurt less someday, but I never believe her. But you’re okay, and you’re pretty and like a princess. You turned out okay. I hope to be like you someday.”

I felt the tears building behind my eyes. I glanced at my mother, before taking Natalia’s hand. “I loved my father and he’ll always be a part of me, but yes, it does hurt less now.” She kissed Natalia’s cheek. “You can be whatever you want to be, as long as you don’t disrespect others and do it from your heart. I promise you, you’ll be okay.”

Natalia beamed. “Thank you.”

Peyton wiped a tear from her eye and said, “If you turn out like Charlotte, I’m sure your mother will be proud of you.”

What? I gaped at my mother.

After several goodbyes and thanks, Jennie was able to pull Natalia away, but I couldn’t stop gaping at my mother.

Peyton linked her arm through mine and guided me through the crowd, to talk to other families and finish our social agenda.

“I still can’t believe it,” I said. “Can you please repeat that?”

Peyton shot me an annoyed look. “Why the surprise? Despite our differences and arguments, you’re mostly a good daughter.”

Mostly. Of course, my mother would never think I was good enough. Still, mostly was better than nothing.

As we mingled with the other families, I noticed my mother had relaxed a bit. She even shook more hands and hugged a few kids.

Perhaps Governor Peyton McClain’s heart wasn’t as cold-hearted as it first appeared.

***

Charlotte

One week later, my mother informed me of another friendly outing during breakfast.

“Donnie is back in town. Tonight, you’ll take him out to dinner.”

The knife I had been holding to spread jam on my toast fell from my hand, and it landed on the floor with a loud thud.

My mother stared me, her wide eyes stern. “What was that?”

“N-nothing. I just … got distracted.” I crouched to get the knife, but a maid had already approached me with a clean one. “Thanks,” I said, taking the knife.

“As I was saying,” my mother continued, her hands closed around a steaming cup of coffee. “He likes Indian food. Take him to an Indian restaurant, even if you have to drive to Washington to find one.”

Indian food? I hated Indian food, especially because it made me sick to my stomach. But did my mother care? My mother didn’t even know. In fact, she knew nothing about me. Blind to what was right under her nose, Peyton pretended I was exactly as she wanted me to be, in front of and behind her.

It dawned on me that the way my mother acted during that event for military families, the way my mother talked to the little girl about me, was nothing more than an act. Another disgusting act.

If I missed another hangout time with my friends because of her, Liana would kill me. More important than Liana killing me, I missed spending time with the girls.

An idea bloomed in my mind. It was worth a shot.

I bit the inside of my cheek for a second. “My summer classes just started, Mother, and I already have a big project to work on.”

The brown in my mother’s eyes became flames of indignation. “I’m sure you can work on your project today, before dinner and before your classes during the week.” After depositing the empty cup over the table, my mother stood, her incensed gaze still on my eyes. “Charlotte, you can’t deny it. Donnie is a great young man, and your father would approve of him.”

I didn’t know whom my father would approve or not. I didn’t get a chance to get to know him that well, to have a sense of the man he was. I was too young to pay attention to details. To me, he had been a good father and a good man. Strict most of the time, but with his sweet moments. However, I knew he would want me to choose someone like Donnie.

“You don’t know that,” I whispered.

My mother’s eyes hardened. “You are going to take Donnie out to dinner and you are going to have a good time with him.” The hard tone in her voice brought goose bumps to my arms.

I lowered my head, my stomach sinking. “Yes, Mother.”

***

Charlotte

I descended the stairs with a fake smile on my face. In the foyer, I greeted my mother and Donnie.

Donnie’s smile was real. “You look beautiful.”

The same compliment every time he saw me. Could he change the record? I knew I looked okay. I had gotten ready to look good. I even chose an elegant cocktail dress my mother approved for me to wear. I was politician-taste appropriate.

“Thanks,” I said.

He offered me his arm. I took it and walked outside with him.

“Have a good night,” my mother said from the top of the stairs.

My stomach still revolved each time I thought about what I was doing, so I tried to focus my attention on something else—like the fountain before my house and its glistening water. Or how shiny Donnie’s Mercedes looked under the moonlight.

Anything, everything not to think I was going out with Donnie, while all I wanted to do was find Mason and kiss him senseless.

Damn, I was so lost.

I pushed Mason from my thoughts. I had been raised to be a perfect lady. At least on the outside. No one in the world knew what was going on inside.

The smile never left my face as Donnie led me to the car, opened the door, and helped me in. I still smiled as we rode to the restaurant and sat down at our reserved table.

“You look happy today,” Donnie said, his pale blue eyes shining.

Wow, I had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were. True, I hadn’t noticed much of him at all.

“Yes,” I lied. I picked up the menu and ran my eyes over it, even though I already knew what I would order.

Okay, this wasn’t right. I had agreed to this date so I could give him a chance, so he could sweep me off my feet, so I could forget Mason, and so I could live the life my mother wanted me to.

I set down the menu. “How have you been?”

His face brightened. “I’m great. I’m here with you. Work has been great too.” He launched into a detailed retelling of his week and what he was working on with his father.

All the while, I nodded and made sounds like uh and ah whenever it seemed appropriate. Like my mother, Donnie seemed all too happy to talk about politics. He easily got carried away, and I had to endure it. Like everything else in my life. Just endure it.

During dessert, I tried finding out more about him. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“I play golf.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“The Pelican Brief.”

“TV series?”

“Law and Order, though it’s not a true portrait of court life.”

“Favorite book.”

“Any biography by men of elevated position.”

“Song?”

“Anything by the Beatles.”

I was sure if I went on and asked what the most daring thing he ever did was, he would say that it was when he wore a bright green tie with a beige suit.

The worst part, he didn’t ask me the same questions. So what? He didn’t want to find out more about me? He reached over the table and ran his thumb over my hand. I watched it, expecting a shiver to run up my spine, a heat to settle low in my stomach. Nothing.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling.

I smiled back. “Yes.”

Back at my house, I let him open my door and guide me up the front stairs.

He looked into my eyes. “I had a great night.”

That made one of us. “Me too.”

In slow motion and awkward moves, Donnie reached for my hands and leaned toward me. I braced myself, preparing my mind for the kiss. I would kiss him back. I had to.

His lips touched mine in a shy peck. Before he could try more, I pulled back, fighting the urge to wipe my mouth in front of him.

A satisfied grin adorning his face, he clasped my hand, lifted it to his lips, and placed a kiss on my knuckles. “I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay.”

With a skip in his step, Donnie walked back to his car.

As soon as the car drove away, I rushed inside, eager to brush my teeth, even though he barely touched my lips.

Chapter Nine

Mason

My days were sucky. It was only the middle of June and I was already tired of summer. All I did was work some gigs here and there, go to bed late, wake up even later, and try to keep my mind off Charlotte. Two weeks had passed since the last time I had seen her at that damned club, and every waking hour, I had to stop myself from going to the Executive Mansion in Richmond or trying to find out her phone number and calling her.

It was odd how I only thought about Charlotte now, as if I hadn’t had a girlfriend before her. Tamara who?

Since that first ball, when I met Charlotte again, I said no to all other fancy parties that involved politicians. I preferred bartending clubs and reducing the risk of bumping into her again, especially if she could be with that guy, that Donnie Williams, the one all the newspapers claimed was her boyfriend.

But I needed more to do. This partying, but not partying life was getting old.

I made some pancakes and black coffee, picked up the newspaper, and sat down on a high stool at the kitchen’s island. I poured honey over my pancakes, while I flipped through the newspaper, trying to find a job that I could apply for, preferably something in civil engineering, in which I could work part time and still go to graduate school.

Nothing really grabbed my attention.

Cursing, I took my plate to the sink. I was rinsing it to put it into the dishwasher, when a knock on the door stopped me.

My heart paused for a second and my mind flew. Could it be Charlotte? But how had she found out where I lived?

Hope was in full bloom in my chest as I rushed to the door. I stopped for a second and looked down at myself. I was wearing cotton pajamas pants and nothing else. My hair was probably a mess. I probably should go to my room and at least comb my hair. Hmm, not that she hadn’t seen me like this before, and apparently she had liked it but—

The knock came again.

I stopped my mental diarrhea and opened the door.

“What the hell are you two doing here?”

Brody brushed past me and entered the apartment, looking around. “Hey, Mason, this place sucks.”

Matt pulled me into a hug. “Hey, big brother, how is life on the East Coast?” He stepped inside and joined Brody in analyzing the apartment.

Slowly, I closed the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey!” Brody made a hurt face. “You don’t want us here?”

“You told me to save money and come visit you,” Matt protested.

“No, man, it’s not that,” I said. “I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “You got a chick here? Hey, man, sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you—”

I headed into the kitchen. “There’s no chick here.”

Brody followed me. “So, what’s the problem? We thought you would love to see us. The gang back together, terrorizing the city!”

Matt chuckled. “He has been saying that since we bought the plane tickets.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Weirdo.”

Brody bowed. “Thank you.” He started rummaging through the cabinets as if he had always lived there. “So, we’re here to party. Where are we going tonight?”

I put my dirty plate inside the dishwasher. “I don’t know. There is a ton of clubs and bars downtown.”

Brody found a clean mug and filled it with steamy coffee. “Just take us to where the cute chicks are, man. The rest is the rest.”

Matt leaned against the doorjamb. “Another thing he has been saying since we bought the tickets.”

I looked from my young brother to my best friend. It wasn’t quite who I had been expecting, but maybe it was better. My friends were here now and I hadn’t realized how much I had missed them until they were here, talking shit and making a mess in my kitchen.

Though I wasn’t in the best mood to party, I owed it to them.

“All right, I think I know a nice bar where cute chicks hang out. But”—I glanced to the digital clock on the stove—“it’s not even noon yet and the place opens at six.”

Matt, the history freak, grinned like a little kid in an amusement park. “We could go sightseeing.”

“What?” Brody asked, the expression on his face terrified.

I laughed.

“Seriously, come on,” Matt insisted. “Got anything better to do? Bet there will be hundreds of cute chicks to look at while we walk around the National Mall. Tell him, Mason.”

Brody sported a sly grin. “I have no idea what the National Mall is, but if cute chicks are going to be there, so will we.”

“I would be up for that,” I said.

While my brother and my best friend were here, I would take advantage of their push and hook up with some girl. It was the only way to forget Charlotte.

I hoped.

***

Charlotte

“I’m glad you could come,” Donnie said, opening the door of the car for me and offering his hand.

“Me too,” I lied, smiling as convincingly as I was taught.

My mother had set me up again. This time, I was to spend an entire Saturday with Donnie in Washington. I had no time to argue as she informed me of it two minutes before Donnie showed up at our front door.

I took his hand and slid out of the car. I smoothed my summer dress, which actually looked more like a cocktail dress—beige with yellow and orange flowers prints, and it came down to my knees. I wore caramel pumps and held a matching wristlet. All I was missing was one of those gigantic hats and beelike sunglasses, and I would look like a snobby high society woman going to watch a polo game at a country club where the monthly membership cost more than the average rent price.

Like this, I felt as if I was forty instead of nineteen. I also felt suffocated and ashamed for hiding so much of me.

Donnie placed my hand on his arm, and we walked down Independence Avenue.

Despite the circumstances, it was a beautiful day. Sunny but not too hot, with a suave breeze hitting here and there.

I glanced at Donnie. He seemed nice, a little too invested in politics for my taste, but almost everyone in Washington was. He was handsome, in a way. Tall, average build, with good skin, good hair, beautiful pale blue eyes. I wondered how his body was under the expensive shirts and slacks.

Heat crept on my cheeks. I shouldn’t be thinking that, because I certainly didn’t want to know. Which was too bad. I wished I wanted to know. I really did, but it wasn’t there. No sparks, no butterflies in my stomach when he looked at me. Granted, not everyone was lucky to have that kind of relationship, but I sure wanted to be one of the lucky ones.

He smiled at me. “How many times have you been here before?”

“Too many to count,” I said. It was true. I was practically born and raised at the National Mall.

“I guess this is boring, then. I’m sorry. I should have asked first.” He paused. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“No, it’s fine. I like walking around here.”

He patted my hand tucked in his arm. “Good.”

We made a turn on 7th Street, and then entered Jefferson Drive, going toward the Washington Monument. We passed the carousel and I wished I were little enough to ride it. I sure would have fun.

Well, if Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca were here, I was sure they would find a way for the four of us to ride the carousel.

I looked ahead again and my heart squeezed, sending a painful jolt through my chest.

Mason, with his brother and his best friend, was coming from the other side, from the Smithsonian Museum. They talked and laughed, bumped elbows in ribs, and slapped shoulders. Boys will be boys. They walked toward the Professor Joseph Henry Statue, and we would cross paths in a few more seconds.

I looked back, trying to think of another place to go, maybe back to the Hirshhorn. I opened my mouth to tell Donnie to turn around, when Matt’s wide eyes met mine and he halted in his tracks, patting his brother’s chest and pointing at me.

The three of them stopped and I noticed the conversation became harsher.

Without hesitation, Mason walked toward me—and Donnie.

Frowning, I halted. “Donnie,” I started. Still smiling, he turned to me. “I’m thirsty. Could you please buy some water for me?”

“Sure.” He looked around, a little lost.

“There.” I pointed behind us. “A kiosk right beside the carousel.”

“Of course. Just water?”

I needed more time. “How about a hot chocolate instead? And please, see if they have a fresh blueberry muffin.”

“I’ll be right back.” He walked away, looking as if he was about to break into happy skips.

Afraid of being caught, I rushed to Mason. Since I wouldn’t be able to hide, it was better confront him fast and have this over with.

I beckoned him out of the path, where trees hid us from Donnie’s sight. With a knot between his brows, Mason raised his hand to Matt and Brody. The guys stopped, and then he followed me.

The guys waved at me, and I returned the gesture.

Mason tucked his hands inside his pocket as his eyes traveled up and down my body. I flushed, suddenly embarrassed for being dressed like that in front of him. Ugh, I hated how I cared what he thought.

“Not your boyfriend,” Mason said, his tone strained and his eyes tough.

“He’s not,” I said. “My mother has been setting up these outings and … you know what? It doesn’t matter.”

“He sure looks like your boyfriend.”

I groaned. “What do you want?” He shrugged, averting his eyes. “You were walking toward me. If you didn’t want anything, you wouldn’t have done that.”

He stared at me. “I don’t know, okay? I just saw you, and like before, I just had to get to you, to see you.” He gave a step toward me, his eyes softening a little. “I want to talk to you.”

“Mason.” I sighed. “You don’t want to get mixed up with me. It’s not worth it.”

“You should let me decide that.” He took a step closer.

I knew I should move away, but I couldn’t. My gaze followed his ticking jaw, his tense neck, the neckline of his black shirt, the way it hugged his shoulders, arms, and chest. I could see his muscles. I remembered them. I found myself incapable of ungluing my eyes from his body. His jeans also didn’t help. They were tight enough to see he had a great behind and powerful legs.

With the breeze, his aftershave scent hit me and I inhaled deeply, remembering how many times I had wrapped myself around that scent. Around him. I shivered.

I looked up and found Mason less than a foot from me.

“You were just checking me out,” he said, the corner of his lip tugging up. “That has to count for something.”

“No, I wasn’t!” I said too quickly.

He leaned over me and I stopped breathing. “That’s okay. I like it. It means you want me. And I want you too.”

His hand reached for me but I snapped out of it. Looking side to side, I retreated, putting a few feet between us.

I put on my business hat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It may seem interesting, a challenge, but that’s all this is. I’m not the girl you met in Califor—”

“I know you are,” I said.

“—nia. This is me.” I waved down myself, feeling sick to my stomach. I so wasn’t like this and I hated lying to him, but I had to. I couldn’t have him looking at me like that, because I wouldn’t be able to say no for much longer. “Though I’m not dating Donnie, that’s what is expected of me.”

“That’s bullshit.”

I felt the tears burning behind my eyes. “This is my life.”

Before I broke down, I turned my back to him and rushed away.

“Charlotte!” Mason called, but I ignored him.

I wiped the unshed tears as I stepped back onto the path. The urge to look back, to run back to him was painful, but I didn’t give in. Two steps into the path, I found Donnie a few yards east, looking around, searching for me, and holding two steaming cups.

He turned around and smiled when he saw me. “There you are,” he said, strolling to me. “I thought I had lost you.”

I took a cup from him. “Sorry, I had something on my shoe, so I went looking for a place to sit and fix it.”

He offered his arm to me. “Is it fixed now?”

What was fixed? My shoe? My mind? My heart? “Yes, it is.”

“Good,” he said.

I suggested changing routes and going north, toward the White House, hoping we stayed clear of any kind of temptations.

***

Mason

I stood there, watching as Charlotte escaped from me with that goddamned boyfriend of hers. All I wanted was to scoop her in my arms, run away with her, and say to hell with her I-have-to-be-like-this routine. But I didn’t. I knew she would resent me more than be happy with the act. So I just stared, my fists closed, my teeth gritted.

“What was that?” Matt asked, catching up with me.

Brody put his arm over my shoulders. “Charlotte lives here?”

“Yes. No. She lives in Richmond.”

Matt gaped. “Wait. Have you known where she was from since spring break? I thought she didn’t tell you.”

“She didn’t,” I said. “I had no idea where she lived, until I met her at a ball. I worked as a waiter and she was one of the rich people enjoying the evening.”

Brody’s brows shot up. “How rich?”

“As in daughter of the governor rich.”

“Fuck,” Brody whispered.

Matt whistled. “That explains the odd clothes.”

“What?” I asked.

“Yes, well, politicians and their families have certain standards,” Matt explained.

I sighed. “But that’s not her.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” I said. “She’s the girl I met during spring break. This one”—I pointed my chin to where she disappeared—“is like a mask she wears.” Matt narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”

“You’ve got it bad,” he said. Brody nodded in agreement.

“What? Of course not. I barely know her.”

Matt laughed. “As if that mattered.”

“I’ve got nothing,” I hissed. “And I’m gonna prove it tonight.”

Chapter Ten

Charlotte

“This is getting harder,” I said, my cell phone pressed between my ear and my shoulder.

“I think I heard that a couple of weeks ago,” Liana said, on the other side of the line.

“But now it is even harder.” I halted in front of the tall mirror in my closet and looked at myself. I didn’t look like it, but I felt like a total mess. “It wasn’t this hard before, to do whatever my mother wanted. To be conservative. To dress in pencil skirts and blouses. To wear pearls. To go through political science. I didn’t mind it before, not this much anyway.”

“That is because …” Liana prompted.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Mason, about my life, about my future since I had seen him five days ago at the National Mall. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about any of it since bumping into him at the Memorial Day ball over a month ago.

I grunted. “You know why.”

“I do, but I think saying it out loud helps. It’s like your brain won’t really absorb it if you don’t say it out loud.”

“Then I won’t say it out loud.”

“Charlotte!” Liana chuckled. “You have to. Come on. Do it.”

With one free hand, I picked up my dress and put it in front of myself—a deep green cocktail dress with a narrow waist and a flare skirt that fell to my knees. Always to my knees. And the neckline came way over my breasts. No parts exposed whatsoever.

I sighed. “I can’t … I shouldn’t.”

“I love you. I always have, and I’ll continue loving you even when you marry that guy you’ve been going out with lately,” Liana said. I cringed, glad my friend couldn’t see me. “And become the next First Lady, and forget all about me. However, if you do that, you’ll forget about you too, you know.”

Yup. I knew that. “I wish it was easy,” I mumbled.

“I know. But I’m here, okay. If you need someone to hold your hand or to give you a push, I’m here.”

I smiled. “I know. Thank you.”

“Charlotte!” My mother’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Are you ready?”

“Almost!” I shouted back. Then I spoke into the phone, “I’ve gotta go.”

“All right. Call me later.”

“I will.”

“Try to have fun,” Liana said, as always.

I hung up and slipped on the dress carefully so as not to ruin my makeup and my intricate ponytail. After a little shimmy, I was able to pull the zipper up. I put on my pumps and looked at myself in the mirror again. However, I didn’t see me. It saw Peyton McClain’s daughter, someone I barely knew, someone I barely liked.

Until recently—until Mason moved to Washington—I had been okay with all of this. I knew my mother would direct my life, tell me what to do, who to date, where to go. I was sure my mother wouldn’t choose anything bad for me. I had been raised to trust my mother, to obey my mother. Yes, I had my few hours with Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca every week and that was all the escape I had needed. Now, it didn’t seem enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be free. I wanted to live my life, to make my choices, to go to art school instead of law, to work for a studio and have my face smeared with charcoal, to live in a messy townhouse in a nice residential neighborhood with kids playing ball in the streets, to kiss the guy I wanted to kiss.

My mother’s shout startled me out of my daze. “Charlotte! We’re going to be late to the fundraiser!”

“Coming,” I shouted back, slowly retreating from the mirror.

In the foyer, my mother stood beside Donnie, who was all smiles.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and I suppressed a cringe. This was our sixth, maybe seventh date, and he always said the same thing when he saw me. Always. Guess I should be flattered, but the only thing I thought was that he should learn more sentences.

He took my hand when I reached the last step of the stairs, and hooked it under his arm.

“Thank you,” I said, my perfect fake smile in place.

I let him take me to the car, all the while thinking about what Liana suggested. Try to have fun. I would. I really would try.

***

Mason

I rolled out of bed at 3 p.m. In only my boxers, I dragged my feet to the kitchen and started a new pot of coffee.

Matt and Brody had gone back to Cali three days ago, and I hadn’t been able to prove that I didn’t have a thing for Charlotte after all. That night I had been called to help at a wedding party. Two of the hired waiters were down and they need more hands ASAP. Because of the nice hourly rate, Matt and I accepted the offer and worked until 5 a.m. Brody, on the other hand, went out by himself and came back to my apartment mid-afternoon the next day.

Then, I launched back into the club I mostly worked at. After five nights of serving other people’s drinks from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m., I felt exhausted, and I would do it again tonight. It was better than staying home, staring at the walls, and thinking about Charlotte.

Christ. When things between Tamara and me ended, I hadn’t been this hung up on her. I had been broken by the situation, and I had been distraught about how things ended, about being played for a fool for so long. However, I forgot Tamara quite easily, and it was because of Charlotte, the girl who now inhabited every inch of my mind.

I groaned, irritated with myself for not being able to control my thoughts.

The coffeepot beeped and I grabbed a mug from the cabinet. While serving my coffee, I looked at the clock on the microwave and wondered if I should go earlier to the club tonight. It would help take my mind off her. Then tomorrow I would be more tired and would be able to sleep all morning and all afternoon. Ugh, I couldn’t wait until my freaking classes started to give me more to do, but they were still two months away. Two entire months. I would go crazy like this.

I sat on the stool before the high counter and sipped from my coffee. The newspaper lying beside me caught my attention. Well, something to pass the next five minutes, and I still needed to look for a better job. I snatched it and flipped through the pages.

Of course, I had to feel worse. A picture of Governor Peyton McClain at a fundraiser event illustrated the fourth page, and behind her stood Charlotte and that guy. Ugh, he looked like her boyfriend. Why would she lie to me? She could easily say that the guy was her boyfriend, which would keep me way. Or so I told myself. Because, honestly, I wasn’t sure anymore.

After meeting with her at the National Mall six days ago, I didn’t know anything anymore. I wanted to go through with my plan, to become the next womanizer in town, not get attached to anyone, but apparently, I was already attached to Charlotte. Christ, after she walked away from me with that Donnie boy, I could barely sleep. I lay in bed for hours, only thinking about her, about ripping that fancy dress from her, about throwing her on my bed, about licking her entire body, and making her scream my name.

I had to control myself right now. David would come home from work any time now and my roommate didn’t need to witness my hard-on.

I closed my eyes, breathed in and out, and pictured my fourth grade math teacher cleaning his ear with his pinkie nail. Yeah, that did the trick.

What good did that do if, when I opened I eyes, I saw her photo again and instantly remembered all of my nights with her? Christ, I needed a cold shower.

Okay, this was ridiculous. I couldn’t feel this way about her. I didn’t know anything about her. It was insane. And I wasn’t prepared for another relationship. I didn’t want another relationship. Why bother, when someone always ended up hurt? Look at Charlotte and me. Things between us hadn’t even started and it was already hurting.

There must be a way out of this.

My plan. Yes, my plan. Women. Lots of them. No attachments.

I would execute it tonight. Just because I was working, it didn’t mean I couldn’t meet someone, did it? In fact, I had proved it worked, meeting Charlotte that way, and here she was, making her way into my thoughts again.

I shot up from the stool and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower and entering under the cold water in my boxers and all.

***

Mason

Even though the club wasn’t crowded, the bar area was and, at 1 a.m., I still hadn’t stopped moving and running up and down. What was it with people and Fridays? They all had to come out of their holes and shove alcohol down their throats to survive.

Finally, past two, things started to slow down.

A girl plopped down on a stool. Her hair was pitch black, cut into a neat bob, and her makeup was a little smeared.

“What can I get for you?”

She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “A kiss?” I stiffened. I hadn’t expected that answer. The girl chuckled. “I’m kidding. A margarita, please.”

I prepared her drink and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“Though, if you know a guy with free lips, I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” The girl played with the little umbrella on her glass. Knowing I shouldn’t be too friendly to customers—club orders—I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you know. Boy problems. Boy is a jerk and girl cries for being stupid. Now girl wants to forget about boy.”

I sighed. “I think I heard that before.”

“So, any friends to introduce me to?”

“No, I’m new around here. No friends yet.” I held my breath for a second, considering my options. Well, she was here, right, so why not? “Though, my lips are free.”

Her eyes grew wide, and then she squinted, looking at my body. Her cheeks gained a pink tint. “I gotta say, you’re quite handsome.”

I leaned over the bar. “You aren’t so bad either.”

Smiling, the girl scooted closer to me. “And what is your name, free lips?” Her breath smelled of alcohol. Apparently, she had more drinks before this one.

“Mason. Yours?”

“Jade.” She licked her lips. “What time do you leave?”

I glanced at my wristwatch. “In less than forty minutes.”

“Well, I think I’ll be right here until then.”

She stayed on the same stool for the next forty minutes, and had three more margaritas. I wondered if she would be okay to do anything. I wondered if I would be okay to do anything.

What the hell? Of course I would. I was a guy. Guys never said no to sex, especially when the girl looked nice and seemed a little frisky. Right?

Four in the morning came and I left with Jade. During the short taxi ride to her dorm, we never said a word. We didn’t even touch.

Her dorm was actually a small apartment, much like mine. Jade guided me to her bedroom, putting her finger over her lips when we passed by her roommate’s door.

She closed her door behind us and stood before me.

This was awkward.

A little unsure if I should just get this over with or if I should go slowly, I leaned to her. Without meaning to, she swayed out of reach and giggled.

“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I had one too many drinks.”

I ran my hand through my hair. “That’s okay.”

She took off her heels and approached me. “Where were we?” She put her arms around my shoulders. “Oh yeah, I think it was right here.”

She pulled my neck down and kissed me.

I slid my hands down her waist and kissed her back. It was a nice kiss. Her mouth was soft and wasn’t too slobbery, even after her too many drinks. Okay, I could get into this. I pressed her body to mine and deepened the kiss. My hand reached for her hair, but I fingered the air instead. Startled, I pulled back and realized I had been looking for Charlotte’s long hair, not the bob this girl had.

“What’s wrong?” Jade asked.

I shook his head, clearing his mind. “Nothing.”

I bent into her again, trailing kisses down her neck, and the girl moaned. I inhaled, and the smell of cigars and some flowery perfume greeted me. Very different from the sweet cherry scent I was expecting.

I released her.

She put her hands on her hips—they were a little larger than Charlotte’s too—and stared at me. “Something is wrong.”

Christ, I couldn’t even be a free man anymore. “It’s just …”

Jade nodded. “I get it. There’s another girl, right? You haven’t forgotten her. Believe me, I get it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad. I think this was good for you anyway.”

I frowned. “Why is that?”

She smiled at me, all too knowing. “Because now you know you really like her.”

Chapter Eleven

Charlotte

When Liana suggested going to the Gelman Library at George Washington University, since we both had research projects to work on for our summer classes, my first answer was no.

Then, I thought about it. Washington had many colleges, the chances of Mason studying at GWU were low, and he had told me his classes didn’t start until August. Even if he was to study here, the chances of meeting him at the library were low.

Besides, deep down, even though I knew I shouldn’t, I was dying to see him again. It was another boring Monday and nine days since I had bumped into him at the National Mall, but who was counting?

“What is it?” Liana asked after we settled at one of the tables in the library with many books. “You won’t stop looking around.”

I shifted my gaze to the books before me. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying.” Liana looked around, trying to spot whatever had me on edge. Many guys crowded the desk around us. “Oh, I get it. It’s about that Mason guy.”

My cheeks warmed and I put a finger over my lips. “Shush. I don’t want to talk about this.” I opened a book and pretended to have interest in the pages I turned.

We had talked about Mason a lot already, and even though Liana thought it was so romantic to find him here, I thought it was destiny being cruel.

Liana chuckled. “You’re so in love.”

“What? I barely know him. In fact, I don’t know him at all.”

Which made me sad. I had slept with him for a week, had the most amazing connection I could dream of, and yet, I didn’t know anything about him. And it was all my fault. I had been the one to impose the nothing-personal rule on our affair.

So stupid.

Over the table, my phone vibrated. I picked it up before others noticed it. I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes.

“Who is it?” Liana asked in a hushed tone.

I pressed the end button. “Donnie.”

Liana’s eyes widened. “Oh, poor guy. Doesn’t know he has competition.”

“There’s no competition,” I snapped.

“Then why are you avoiding Donnie?”

Good question. “Because … I don’t like him.”

“Don’t like him or—?”

A girl from the table beside ours shushed us, and I glared at my friend. We lowered our heads and continued our research in silence. When my phone vibrated once more and I turned the call off without answering, Liana tsked.

My phone vibrated again. I reached for it, determined to turn it off, but saw it was a message from Liana. I looked at her across the table.

Smiling, she gestured to my phone.

Shaking my head, I read the message.

Liana: So, about that Donnie boy.

Me: What about him?

Liana: Don’t like him or you like someone else?

Me: Both.

Liana: Oh, so you confess!

Me: What good is confessing when I know I can’t do anything?

Liana: It’s a step, sista!

Me: Toward a wall where I’ll bump face-first.

Liana: You should be a comedian.

Me: What?

Liana: Anyway, what’s wrong with Donnie boy?

Me: Can we talk about this later? Much better than typing.

Liana: All right. But you’re not off the hook yet. I WILL know it all!

I didn’t know what else Liana wanted to hear from me. She knew everything already. I had told her about our dates, about our semi-kiss, about how I didn’t feel anything.

I tucked my phone inside my purse and tried focusing on my project.

The words before my eyes were blurred. Ugh, I really didn’t care about them at the moment. My life had been uncomplicated so far. Not real, but simple. I just had to do what my mother wanted me to. Now, with temptation so close, it was becoming harder to continue doing what I didn’t want to.

“All right, I’m tired of this.” Liana closed the book with a loud thud almost two hours after our arrival. Two hours I hadn’t really done anything other than look around and hope, and then un-hope, Mason would show up. “Let’s go skate somewhere before heading home.”

When did I deny going roller-skating? More than a hobby, it helped clear my head and relax my tense muscles—just what I needed.

We left the library, heading to the parking garage a half-block ahead.

I fought against the will to turn my head and look everywhere for him. But it wasn’t needed.

“Hey.” Mason’s voice came from the street.

***

Mason

Charlotte turned as I stepped on the sidewalk. She looked more like herself in a jean skirt and a simple blouse—and beautiful too.

“Hey,” she muttered.

“I saw you from the other side of the street.” I halted before her and ran a hand through my hair.

“Hi, Mason,” Liana said, stepping beside Charlotte.

“Hey, Liana. Nice to see you again.” I shook her hand briefly.

Liana kept talking. “We’re looking for a park where we can roller-skate. Do you know any?”

I pretended I didn’t see as Charlotte placed her hand on Liana’s back, and probably poked her.

However, I had been trying to come up with a plan to approach her, to find her, to find her phone number, and I wouldn’t let this golden opportunity get away from me.

“I don’t know much about the city yet,” I said. “But there is a nice park thirty minutes south of here. On foot. Ten if driving.”

Liana smiled. “How about you come with us and show the way?”

I locked my eyes with Charlotte’s. She didn’t look happy. “I’m not sure …”

“No worries.” Liana stepped in our line of sight and stirred me toward a parking garage. “We’ll be good company.”

Charlotte remained in her spot on the sidewalk. “Liana, perhaps Mason has someplace to be. You don’t want to be—”

“That’s okay,” I said, determined. She wouldn’t escape me. Not now. “I was just getting acquainted with the area before my classes start.”

“Great.” Liana grabbed my arm with one hand and Charlotte’s elbow with another, and pulled us into the garage. “Let’s have some fun.”

On the second floor, Charlotte fished car keys from her purse, and unlocked a silver Porsche Cayenne that easily cost $100,000.

I knew she didn’t like talking about money but I couldn’t help it. I whistled, eyeing her amazing machine. “So this is your car. Nice.”

Shaking her head, Charlotte slid behind the steering wheel and Liana sat in the backseat, leaving the front passenger seat open for me.

With a smile, I joined them inside the car.

In silence, Charlotte drove out of the parking garage.

“Where to?” Liana asked.

I pointed to the right. “This way.”

Charlotte shook her head again. “Mason, she lives in Washington. She knows the park you’re talking about.”

I glanced at the backseat. “Really?”

Liana shrugged and mouthed, You’re welcome.

A new smile spread on my lips. With her best friend on my side, how hard could this be?

***

Charlotte

The ten-minute ride seemed like ten hours, even though Liana kept the conversation going, touching only light subjects—weather, the park, if Mason liked roller skating. Once at the park, Liana ran ahead of us, putting her skates on in a rush and darting away on the smooth pavement.

Unsure what to do or to say, I sat on a bench and put my skates on, trying to admire the beautiful view before me and failing, admiring the handsome man near me instead.

Mason sat by my side. “Still skating, huh?”

I nodded. “My father gave me my first pair of skates when I was five. Haven’t stopped skating since.”

“Is it just a hobby, like I first thought, or do you enter competitions and things like that?”

A loud laugh came from my mouth. “What? Competitions? Yeah, right.” I stood on my roller skates. “This is just for fun, and as exercise perhaps. But mostly fun. My mother would kill me if I entered a competition.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, embarrassed I blurted out something about my mother.

“What?” Mason stood and stepped before me. “What is it?”

Shaking my head, I pushed the pavement under my feet and strolled away. Unconsciously or not, I rode slowly and Mason kept up with me.

After a few minutes, I stopped and faced him. “Why did you come here?”

His eyes bore into mine. “Because I wanted a chance to talk to you. Once more, I found you by chance. These opportunities are rare and I won’t waste them.”

“Mason”—I stared at the pavement—“this is ridiculous.”

“Why? Because you’re gonna be America’s princess soon, and I’ll continue working as a bartender and waiter to pay my bills?”

I shook my head again. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s the oldest line in the history of the world.” Mason put his finger under my chin, sending jolts of warmth down my body, and raised my face so my eyes met his. “Talk to me. I need you to talk to me.”

A heavy sigh and I blurted out, “I was raised to be a perfect lady and make my mother proud.”

His gaze fell to my skirt and legs. A low heat blossomed low in my belly.

“But you are a perfect lady.”

“With short skirts and roller skates? Not really. But does roller skating make me a guy?” My tone was harsher than I intended, but this was a sore spot. The only other person I talked about this with was Liana, and we hadn’t talked about it in a while. “My mother doesn’t know I roller-skate, and I try not to wear skirts when she is around. Not short skirts at least.”

“So you live a double life?”

My lips pressed together and I resumed skating. “I don’t like to think about that.”

Mason caught up with me. “Then let’s change the subject. Is that Donnie guy your boyfriend or not?”

I laughed. “Way to change subjects. I already told you. He’s not, though he wants to be, so does my mother.” Mason stepped in my way, and I bumped against his hard chest. “Hey! You could have warned me or helped me stop before throwing yourself in my way.” My hands on his chest, I pushed him away. His warmth under my palms teased me.

“But then you wouldn’t have fallen over me.” The corners of his lips curled up. “So that guy isn’t your boyfriend?”

“In his dreams maybe, but not in mine.”

Mason grabbed my wrist, keeping me from putting too much space between us. “Then who is your boyfriend, in your dreams?”

“Oh, Lord,” I whispered, rolling my eyes.

“Is this because I’m not rich? You don’t want anything to do with me because I don’t have a cent?”

“Oh, Lord,” I groaned. “Why does everything always come back to money? Everyone always thinks it’s about money. It’s not. I don’t care about it. Haven’t you noticed Liana has no money too? And she’s my best friend.”

Mason offered me a mischievous grin. “And I could be your poor best boyfriend.”

I jerked from him and skated away, putting more speed into my strides, wishing the distance made me brave enough to keep up with what I was supposed to.

Not much farther ahead, I found Liana seated on the pavement, a box of chalks at her side, drawing.

The only thing better than skating? Chalk drawing.

With my skates on, I knelt beside my friend—careful with my skirt—pulled my long hair up in a ponytail, grabbed a few chalks, and began drawing.

Twenty minutes later, I had my knees and up to my elbows covered in colored chalk dust, and an area of about thirty square feet under my strokes.

For those twenty minutes, I forgot about Mason. My mind wandered free over the landscape I painted. A beautiful 3D waterfall that seemed to have emerged from under the pavement I sat on. Liana added the 3D forest around the waterfall.

I didn’t even notice the little crowd gathering around us.

Until he knelt beside me. “This is amazing,” Mason whispered, startling me.

“It’s not half done yet.” I used the back of my wrist to wipe a few loose strands of my hair away from my face, smearing chalk on my cheek.

His hand rested on my shoulder and turned me to him. His eyes locked on mine, Mason brushed my hair away and cleaned my cheek, his fingers lingering on my skin, sending shivers up my spine.

“Does your mother approve of this?” He gestured to the ground, but he didn’t break the stare.

“She doesn’t know.”

“You hide many things from your mother?”

“I try not to.” I sighed. “But I do. A few things are easy to hide. Some others are impossible.”

“Like boyfriends.”

I nodded. “Like boyfriends.”

“What if I found a way to be your hidden boyfriend?”

My heart fluttered and a sad smile spread through my lips. Damn, how I wanted that. “There isn’t a way. She will try to force me onto other guys, like she’s doing now, and she will become wary of why I’m refusing. Actually, she won’t accept a no.”

His brows curved down, forming a deep crease. “May I ask a question?”

“I know I’ll regret this, but yes, you may.”

“Why do you do everything your mother wants you to?”

“Good question,” Liana butted in. “Her answer changes every time I ask.”

“Stay out of this,” I snapped. Used to our arguments, Liana shrugged and kept drawing. “My mother comes from a long line of politicians. My father was a politician. It hurts her that I’m her only child and I don’t want to follow in their footsteps, but then she made sure my profession will go along with hers.”

He nodded. “Political science, and later law school.”

“How do you know?”

“Google.” He grinned, but it wasn’t his cocky grin. “But that isn’t what you want.”

“No. I wanted to go for art, like Liana. But can you imagine my mother, president of the United States, with a daughter who works in an elementary school, teaching kids how to draw, or at a gallery, painting for a few dollars?”

“Hey, nothing wrong with that,” Liana chimed in.

“Shush over there,” I said again. “Liana’s parents work at an elementary school, and my mother doesn’t approve of our friendship, so she thinks I’m not Liana’s friend anymore.”

“I thought that as a presidency candidate she would encourage your friendship with the lower class.” He raised his hands to Liana. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Liana said with a smile.

“Yeah, well, she does what she has to do to be elected, but she wants me out of that part. She expects me to marry a rich politician whose path might be the presidency of the country. Oh, and she would rather it to be soon. Anyway, I know how important this all is to her. I can’t slip, or she won’t be elected.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“Another old line.”

“Well, it defines my life, so whatever.” I leaned over the pavement and continued my drawing.

Thirty minutes later, Liana and I decided the poor lighting from the sunset was not good enough to keep drawing, and we stopped, but not before taking a few pictures of our masterpiece.

“Seriously, you two are talented,” Mason said.

Liana beamed at him. “We know!”

Noticing a few people taking pictures of the drawings too, I stepped away. It wouldn’t be pretty if my mother saw those pictures some way or another, and found me covered in chalk dusk, on roller skates in a public park, along with Liana and a waiter.

I picked up the box of chalk, or the little that remained of it, and skated away, back to the car. The chilly wind whipped my hair over my shoulders, and I inhaled, savoring the rich green smell of the park, trying to calm down.

At the edge of the parking lot, I took off my skates, put on my sandals, and walked to my car.

“Are you running away?” Mason asked, catching up with me.

“Not really. I just needed to get away from there.” I threw my skates inside the trunk and spied over my shoulder. “Where is Liana?”

“She’s coming,” Mason assured me.

Of course, the super-attuned Liana stayed behind to give us a chance to talk a little more.

I left the trunk wide open and reached for the car’s door.

Mason leaned against it. “You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for my answer and said, “That we’ll keep meeting like this, unintentionally. You know why? Because we should be together.”

I crossed my arms. “Don’t tell me you believe in destiny, karma, or fairy tales.”

“I guess I don’t, but it’s kinda hard to deny. Look at us. We’ve met thousands of miles away, had the most amazing time together, then, out of nowhere, here we are, crossing each other’s paths.”

“If this is a fairy tale, then who is my mother? The evil queen?” Despite the nickname Liana gave my mother, I tried not to think about it. There were moments I hated my life and what my mother imposed on me, but I could never think of my mother as an evil being.

“I don’t know. Maybe she isn’t. Maybe the evil queen is the situation. You being a lady of status, and me being a poor guy struggling to pay my bills.”

“If it was only that, I wouldn’t care.”

He reached out and took my hand. The flapping of the butterfly wings brushed against the walls of my stomach. “Are you admitting you like me?”

Holding his stare, I took a deep breath, and then whispered, “I never lied about it, but you never asked too.”

Mason pulled me closer to him. I didn’t fight it. “Do you like me?”

My gaze fell to my feet. “It doesn’t matter. The answer won’t change the outcome.”

“It matters to me.” Mason tilted his head and urged me to look at him again. “Do you like me?”

Another deep breath. “I do, but—”

My words were interrupted when he leaned into me and his lips claimed mine. I froze for a moment, numb and disconcerted. Then my mind filled with the memories of us tangled under my sheets, and the sweet taste of his mouth inebriated me. I responded with the same vigor and hunger. His hands snaked around me, holding my back, pulling me closer against him.

For a long time, we kissed, our tongues exploring, our hands rediscovering our bodies. He pressed me against the car and wedged his knee between my legs, making a moan escape my throat. God, how I had missed him.

Breathing hard, Mason pulled back, but kept his arms secured around me. “Now you can’t pretend anymore.”

Thwarted, I stepped back, prying his arms from me. “No. It’s not fair. To you. I can’t date you in public. I can’t … I can’t be seen with you. You understand that, don’t you?”

His eyes bore into mine, intense as ever. “I do, and I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you care?”

He shrugged. “Because I want you. I want to be with you.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Mason grabbed my hand and pulled me closer again. “I am.”

I sought any trace of doubt or mischief in his eyes, and found none. My heart beat faster. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

His fingertips brushed my face. “No, it won’t, but we can make it.”

Chapter Twelve

Charlotte

After getting home from Washington, I waited for my mother in her study.

I had tried to rehearse what to say, but nothing seemed right. I thought about postponing this conversation, but it wouldn’t be right. I had to do it now, even if I had to make something up on the spot.

Butterflies—of excitement and nervousness—danced in my belly. I couldn’t believe I had given in. I was dating Mason! I could tap dance over my mother’s desk. Then she would ground me for the next century and I wouldn’t be able to sneak out to see Mason.

I watched the clock on the wall. Nine at night on Monday. She was probably out for a business dinner.

Almost an hour later, Peyton walked into the study, her assistant, Sarah, following close.

“Charlotte, what are you doing here?” Peyton asked, strolling to her chair.

I eyed Sarah, then my mother. “Can I talk to you? Privately?”

With narrowed eyes, Peyton nodded to Sarah. When she was gone, my mother sat down and stared at me. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath. “I would like you to stop scheduling dates with Donnie,” I said, willing my voice to be calm and steady. “I don’t like him the way you want me to.”

My mother leaned back in her chair and laughed. “Oh, Charlotte, I thought this was serious.”

“This is serious.”

The smiled slipped off her face. “I don’t see why you don’t like him. He’s handsome, polite, educated, and rich.”

Rich. That should have been the first thing my mother said, since it was probably the first on her list.

“I know—”

“Then why? I don’t understand.”

“He’s not my type, Mom. I don’t think I can fall in love with him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte. This was never about falling in love.”

“What?”

“Do you think I was in love with your father when we got married? That came years later.”

So Stone Age. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want a relationship like that.”

My mother’s eyes hardened. “If your father could listen to you right now. He would be heartbroken.”

The your-father card, of course she would throw that at me. “Mom, that’s not—”

“Charlotte, listen to me. Donnie is the perfect man. Just give him a chance and I guarantee you’ll fall in love with him.”

I gave him more than one chance. “You’re not listening to me.”

“No. You’re not listening to me. I’m your mother and I know what’s best for you. Didn’t your father always say that? That you should listen to me because I know what’s best for you? I’m telling you now. You won’t find any man better than Donnie.”

“Mom, please, try to understand.”

“Enough, Charlotte. Donnie deserves a chance and you’ll give him one.” She turned her back to me. “Now let me work. I need to make a call now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I had tried. I had at least tried. I wouldn’t give up yet, but I needed to do this slowly. I came knocking and left a message. Next time, I would force my mother to open the door, even if I wasn’t allowed in. Someday I would be.

Although, when I stood and left, I had this feeling that I would never succeed.

***

Charlotte

I arrived at Mason’s building ten minutes early. Should I wait outside, or just go in? I laughed, looking at my sweaty palms. I felt like a thirteen-year-old girl waiting for my first kiss.

Taking a deep breath, I let the memories of spring break fill my mind. I had never been nervous around Mason before. Quite the contrary. I had been a confident seductress, and that was how I wanted to be again.

With a large smile, I entered his building, climbed up the four levels of stairs, and knocked on his door.

Anxiety filled me as I waited. A long moment passed and I wondered if I had gotten the date wrong. I checked the calendar on my phone. Friday evening, as we had agreed. He said he wouldn’t be working tonight for once. Maybe he had to go to the club anyway.

Mason opened the door with a smile even larger than mine and put a stop to all the craziness going on in my head. He wore a tight T-shirt and jeans. Nothing more. Not even socks. His hair was wet and my heart fluttered, remembering how many showers we had had together.

“Hi.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him before I could respond.

His mouth closed over mine, and his hands snaked around my waist, pressing me tight against him. I heard the door being closed, somehow, but I was too busy to care, devouring his sweet taste.

His hand slid down to my hips and he pulled me up, depositing me on a high stool. I knotted my legs around him. I had missed his lips, his body, and his skin on mine. I needed it. Right now.

He leaned into me and my back rested against a counter or something. I didn’t really care what it was, as long as it didn’t break us apart. With a growl, he bit my lower lip. I gasped as the urge to throw him on the floor and crawl over him became unbearable. However, before I could act, he trailed kisses down my neck, pulling the straps of my tee away.

I gasped again. “I thought we were going to have dinner,” I whispered, kicking my sandals off.

His teeth grazed against my shoulder. “Me too.”

A shiver rolled down my spine and I tugged at his shirt, wanting it off. I could lick him, every inch of him, and I would still be hungry for more.

Hungry. Food. We should eat.

I held his shoulders and forced him back.

“What?” he asked, pushing against me.

“We need to do this right,” I said. “We said we would have dinner, talk, and get to know each other.”

“Right.” His body relaxed a little and I let him put his arms around me. “This isn’t only physical. I know. You’re right.” He brushed his lips against mine. “But it’s hard. I want you so badly.”

I arched my back at his touch. “I want you too.” He kissed me, but I only smiled and pushed him away. “No. Stop. And cook me dinner.”

Grinning, Mason did an Army salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

I laughed and slapped his arm. This was what I missed. His playfulness and good mood, our great chemistry and rhythm. Even though we hadn’t shared any important information during spring break, we had bonded. We had spent six perfect days together, and I wanted that again, but for way longer this time.

For how long, I didn’t know. I wasn’t stupid to think our relationship would last long. First, my mother would keep forcing me onto Donnie or other young politicians. Second, I didn’t think Mason would want to stay in the closet forever. He deserved better. The right thing was not to get involved. However, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that and walk away. Not right now. Not yet.

Rescuing me from my thoughts, Mason grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen with him.

“So, what do you want to eat?” he asked, opening the fridge.

I arched a brow. “What can you cook?”

A lopsided grin spread through Mason’s lips. “Anything.”

“Hmm, endless options.” I strolled to him and spied the fridge with him, my chest on his back, my chin on his shoulder. “I can think of something.”

In a second, Mason whirled to me and had his arms around my waist. “Hey, you’re the one who stopped me. I would have finished what we started.” He leaned to kiss me.

“I know.” I wiggled away from his arms. “Surprise me.”

Mason sighed, sounding disappointed. “All right.” He grabbed some stuff from the fridge and set them on the counter. “Can you cook?”

I snorted. “Only frozen pizza out of the freezer and into the oven.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Had cooks my entire life. They didn’t even let me get my own water out of the fridge.”

“That’s unreal.”

I leaned against the counter, right beside where Mason stirred some white goo inside a pot. “That’s completely unnecessary.”

“I didn’t know governors made that much money.”

“They don’t.” I was about to stop there, but decided to be honest with him. After all, I wanted him to know me better. “My father’s family always had a lot of money, and my mother’s family isn’t too shabby either.”

“Oh.” Mason grabbed a frozen chicken package from the freezer, put it in the microwave, and then went back to his white goo. “Sorry.”

“For?”

“I know you don’t like talking about money.”

“True, I don’t.” I crossed my arms. “It’s just … people tend to judge you differently if they know you have money. They tend to treat people differently. I don’t like that. I’m just me. With or without money.”

Mason leaned over me and kissed the tip of my nose. “I like that you’re just you.”

I felt my cheeks heat. As his focus went back to whatever he was cooking, I stared at him. He looked incredible. Dark jeans and fitted gray T-shirt. His biceps flexed with every movement he made. For a moment, I reconsidered my whole having-dinner-first rule.

Mason peeked at me. “If you want, I can teach you some easy dishes.”

I smiled. “I would like that.”

Mason explained to me step by step his allegedly famous Norm Chicken, which consisted of a secret white sauce recipe and small chunks of chicken. He also made rice and mashed potatoes.

“I can honestly say, I’m pleasantly surprise,” I said as I sat down on the chair Mason had pulled out for me.

“Good.” Mason sat down across the table from me, and served our plates. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” The smell was wonderful and I was starving. He handed me my plate and I dove in without ceremonies. I moaned when my taste buds exploded in my mouth. It was delicious!

“Oh, so you do make those sounds when not in bed too?” Mason asked, with a naughty grin.

I almost choked on my food, and then laughed. “Funny. I remember you enjoying them.”

“Oh, baby, I love them.”

Our eyes met. The air crackled around us. The shine in Mason’s eyes caught my breath. It was as if he was undressing me with his gaze, touching me, having me. I was about to jump over the table and attack him. Literally.

The sound of the neighbor slamming a door shattered the charm, and I was able to go back to the original plan.

I broke the stare. “So, tell me about you.”

Mason cleared his throat. “As you know, I was born and raised in California. Lived with my parents and brother. We kinda struggle with money, you know. Matt and I started working when we were fourteen. I always thought about moving out, but that would cost me a lot of money, and well, it was easy, you know, living with my parents. They never bothered me and I was …” he paused, frowning.

“What? I want to know all about you, even a quick review of your previous relationships.”

“Okay.” Mason took a sip from his water before proceeding. “I was in a serious relationship. I didn’t need a bachelor pad to bring in all the girls. My parents liked Tamara, so she slept there all the time.”

“How long were you and Tamara together?”

“A little over three years.”

I picked at my food. “What happened?”

A frown appeared between Mason’s brows. “I found her in bed with another guy.”

“Ouch,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Mason shrugged. “After that, I found out she had always cheated on me, so though it hurt when it happened, I’m glad I found out sooner rather than later.”

“So, I was your rebound girl.”

“Well, you were supposed to be,” Mason said, reaching over the table and entwining his fingers with mine. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He kissed my knuckles and I smiled. “I was serious when I said I’m glad I found you again. I really am.”

“Me too.” I squeezed his hand, then let go because one touch would become a caress, a caress would ignite the fire in me, and we would end up in bed. I really wanted to sleep with him again, but he wanted to be my boyfriend, not my boy toy. Truth be told, I liked this. “So, tell me more.”

“What else? You know Brody and Matt. Brody has been my best friend since we were kids, when our parents were neighbors. Then they moved to the other side of town when we started high school, but that’s the beauty of living in a small city. Only one high school. As for Matt, I’m lucky. We’re lucky, I think. We hear so much about brothers who don’t get along. We do.” He sighed. “I miss those two.”

I thought about being away from Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca, and it was impossible. I knew I would be sick if I ever spent weeks without seeing them.

Granted, guys weren’t that emotional. But being so far away from his friends was probably still hard on Mason.

I changed subjects for his sake. “What about school?”

“I have a civil engineering bachelor’s degree, and in the end of August, I’ll start the second year of my master’s degree.”

“I didn’t know you needed a master degree to work in civil engineering.”

“You don’t. But I want to build bridges and a master in structural engineering is highly recommended for that.”

“Building bridges? That sounds exciting.”

“It is.” His eyes sparkled. “I love the calculations, the imagining, the doing of what looks impossible.”

I smiled at the passion in his voice. “It sounds quite amazing.”

“I’m looking for an entry-level job in the area right now. Not sure if there are many construction companies like that around Washington though. At any rate, working in any civil engineering company will add to my resume and will help me lie low with the bartending thing.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.” I truly was sure. If the passion he had just demonstrated was any indication of how good he was at it, he would go far. “What about hobbies?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I like to go to the movies and eat popcorn, swim at the beach, run in parks, play video games, though I haven’t played much lately, and play sports, especially basketball. I used to play for my high school and in college. I drink too much Coke, eat too much pizza, and even though I spend a lot of time around beer and such, I’m not a true alcohol drinker.”

“All good stuff.”

He nodded. “All in all, a good guy.”

“A very good guy,” I said, smiling. Asking about hobbies reminded me of the questions I had asked Donnie. I bit my lip and decided to try it with Mason. “Okay. A couple more questions with quick answers.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“The Matrix. I like the trilogy, but the first one is the best, hands down.”

“Interesting. Hmm, how about TV series?”

“Haven’t watched any lately. Used to like Smallville and Supernatural. There’s also Mega Engineering and Junkyard Wars. Oh, and MythBusters.”

I chuckled. Of course he would like those engineering programs. “Good stuff. Now, favorite book?”

“Not much of a reader, unfortunately, but I read the Harry Potter series back when. It was fun.”

“One of my favorite of all time. Songs?”

“So many. Anything from Coldplay or Maroon 5 or Creed, and Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin. I could go on all day.”

“Okay, last question. What’s the most daring thing you ever did?”

He frowned, thinking. “I bungee jumped off a bridge four years ago. It was crazy.” He ran a hand through his hair and I smiled. “So, did I pass your test?”

“You did.” I was so satisfied with his answers, contentment threatened to explode in my chest. He wasn’t boring at all. He was the exact opposite.

“Now, your turn. Tell me your answer to all of those questions.”

Oh, wow, he was better than I expected and he wanted to know me too. I smiled. “You know my hobbies. Roller skating and drawing. My favorite movie is Wimbledon alongside Avatar. For TV series, I’ll go with Once Upon a Time, Supernatural, and Gilmore Girls. My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I like too many songs and my favorite changes almost daily, but I’ve been into 5am by Katy B lately. And the most daring thing I ever did? The spring break trip when I met you. I told my mother I was going to Canada with Tracy.”

“You did what?” His eyes widened and he held an amused smile. “You did not.”

“I did.” I reached under the table with my foot, grazing his legs.

Mason tsked. “Don’t provoke me.”

“I’m not.”

His brows shot up and he pointed down the table. “Really?”

“Okay, I’ll stop.”

He grabbed my foot and put it against his leg again. “No need for that.” He smiled and I was sure I never had seen a more handsome man. Not only because of beauty, but also because of all that he was. All that he wanted to be. “Tell me more about you.”

“You know all about me.” I set down my fork and knife. “Father died when I was young. Mother is a control freak. She thinks Tracy Graham is my best friend, though Liana is, closely followed by MaryAnn and Becca. I like skating and drawing, though I’m majoring in political science instead of arts. I hate wearing pencil skirts and blouses, though that takes up most of my closet.” I paused and stared at my plate. “Sorry, I sound bitterer than I intended.”

Mason patted my foot. “That’s okay. I like that you’re honest with me.”

“I want to be honest with you.”

He took a deep breath as if he was preparing for a big speech. “Then tell me, why haven’t you told your mother to fuck off yet?”

Ah, the golden question. “It’s not that simple,” I muttered. “She’s very … oppressive and loud and firm. She always says I’m disappointing my father, which I think is true. He was this big conservative figure, who believed women were supposed to stay home and cook dinner for their husbands. I bet, if he was alive, I wouldn’t even be able to sneak out and do what I like. I would live the life they chose for me twenty-four-seven.” I paused, unsure if I should continue. I had never told this part to anyone. “Before his last deployment, my father told me to be good to her, to always behave and do what she tells me to. He said she would always know what was right for me; she would always want the best for me. I was only eight when he said it for the first time. I clearly remember him saying it again when I was twelve, when he was leaving for the military ceremony overseas, a few days before he was killed. I guess his words stuck in the back of my mind and it was as if I couldn’t go against him. Soon, my mother lost him, you know. I couldn’t hurt her more by not being who she wants me to be.”

I averted my eyes, shut my mouth, and waited for his judgment. If I had told any of this to Liana, she would have hit me hard and yelled, “Get out of that daze, girl!”

Mason’s eyes softened. “I understand. If my father had said something like that, I would probably do whatever and be whoever my mother wanted me to be.” He tapped my hand and I lifted my head, meeting his kind gaze. “Not that you don’t look good in those serious clothes, but I like the Charlotte you are right now.”

“I also don’t really hate the other Charlotte, but I do like this Charlotte much more.” I stood, decided not to let my family and their precious career bring me down. “You cooked. Now, it’s my turn to wash the dishes.”

“No way.” Mason stood and followed me into the kitchen. “It’s my apartment, my sink, my mess.”

I turned to him. “Then let’s compromise. I wash and you dry.”

“The opposite. I wash and you dry.”

I placed my hands on his chest and he held my wrists. “Nope, mister. My deal or no deal.”

I stood on tiptoes and he leaned down to me. “Sorry, but I can’t answer. I’m distracted right now.” His lips brushed against mine and I shivered. “I love knowing that I can make you tremble just by doing this.” He grazed his lips on mine again and this time I moaned. “Shit.” He groaned, and then took my mouth into his. There was no hesitation. His tongue swept inside my parted mouth, and I held on to him for dear life.

Mason backed me against the fridge, pressing his body on mine. My hands slid inside his shirt and I ran my nails down his back, making him shiver. I loved knowing I could make him tremble too.

His tongue grazed around my jaw, sending a jolt down my body that flared low in my abdomen and filled me with need, with lust. He nibbled the tip of my ear, provoking me with his erratic breathing, as his hands clasped around my ass, bringing my hips to his. His hard-on brushed against me and I moaned. Oh, the hell with it. I pulled my hands out of his shirt and fisted the hem, intent on pulling it over his head right now.

A loud Toxic by Britney Spears made Mason jump back a couple of feet. “What’s that?”

I laughed, fishing my phone from my pocket. “It’s the ringtone I chose for Tracy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Appropriate?”

Shaking my head, I answered the phone. “Hey, Tracy. What’s up?”

Groaning, Mason adjusted his pants and walked to the other side of the bar area, clearly needing to cool off. I loved seeing him like that, aroused and losing control because of me.

I tuned him out—otherwise I would hang up the phone—and turned my attention to Tracy.

Chapter Thirteen

Mason

I was having the hardest time keeping my hands off Charlotte. Well, my hands were all over her, but what I wanted was to scoop her up and throw her onto my bed.

I drew little circles on top of her foot with my fingertips, and scanned every inch of her face, while she flipped through the channels, searching for a movie we could watch together.

We had retreated to the couch after washing the dishes and being interrupted by Tracy’s call, inviting Charlotte to a Fourth of July party I couldn’t attend. I had instantly laid her down and crawled over her. So, to keep us apart, she decided to sit on a corner of the couch, and I sat on the other end. Not two seconds later, she propped her legs over the couch and rested her feet in my lap.

I was sure I liked her. Very much. In addition, I felt good about it.

She was fun, beautiful, kind, and adventurous. She loved skating, drawing, and showing off her delicious legs with those short skirts. I knew she was great in bed. Perfect even. Christ, I couldn’t wait to try that part again.

My fingers trailed up her leg, pausing at her knees. She chuckled and swatted my hand away. When she seemed focused on her movie-finding marathon again, I resumed my hike. My fingers traced up her leg, and I heard her sharp intake of breath when my hand was close to the hem of her skirt. Slowly, she turned her eyes to me. I held her stare as my hand continued up, under her skirt.

She shifted her weight. “Mason …”

That was all I needed to hear. In a second, I had my arm around her waist, laying her on the couch, under me, while my other hand played along the edges of her panties.

Her back arched, pressing her breasts against my chest, and I groaned before taking her mouth. Her lips parted and moved in sync with mine. She teased my tongue with hers, and then she sucked on it. I almost flipped; I almost lost it. Shit. She was too much, just too much, and I wanted all of her.

I ground my hips against hers and she moaned. That sound alone filled me with excitement, with need. Need for her. With the hand under her skirt, I pulled her panties to the side and teased her with my thumb.

She grasped my shoulders, her nails sinking through my shirt, and gasped. “Mason,” she whispered against my mouth. My name coming from her delicious lips sounded like a prayer, and I loved hearing it. I loved how she was here with me, enjoying this as much as I was.

I slid my tongue to her ear and whispered, “What?” I rubbed my thumb around her clit and she moaned. “What is it?”

“Please,” she gasped.

I retreated my fingers. “Please, what?”

Charlotte glided her hands down my arms and held my hand in place. “Please, I need you.”

Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but it would suffice. Surprising her, I moved my hand fast and sunk a finger inside her. Back arching, she cried and I groaned against her neck. Christ, she was wet, tight, and ready. I had missed touching her. Tasting her.

I lifted from the couch and she held on to me. Her eyes were on mine, a desperate shine in them. I smiled and unclasped her hands from my arms, and then, none too gently, I pushed her skirt up and knelt between her legs. She drew air in, understanding what I was about to do, her beautiful face a mixture of anticipation and excitement.

I pushed her panties aside and lowered myself as she groaned, throwing her torso back down on the couch. I nipped her thigh and she groaned. Smiling, I played around some more, loving how eager she became with each gentle bite. Ending her torture, I flicked my tongue over her clit then took it into my mouth. She grasped the couch, a whimper escaping her throat, and adjusted herself, lifting her hips to me. With a satisfied smile, I swirled my tongue. If I was right, she was dying for release by now.

Her fingers knotted in my hair. “Mason, please …”

I flicked my tongue on her clit, and then pulled back a little. “Please, what?”

Cussing, she lifted her head and looked at me pointedly. “Don’t stop.”

Happy to oblige, I sank to her again and slid a finger inside her. Her muscles tightened against my finger, and all I could think of was to take down my pants and bury myself in her. Not yet. First, I would pleasure her, and then I would scoop her away to my bedroom and fuck her senseless.

I slipped a second finger inside, thrusting deeply, and increased the pressure of my tongue.

“Oh, please, don’t stop,” she cried, holding my hair tighter. I moved my fingers deeper and rolled my tongue harder. She stilled. “Mason,” she whispered, her body quavering as she came.

The bulge in my pants ached as I looked at her. Charlotte was thrown over the couch, completely undone. I had done that and it felt too damn good. She reached up, closing her hands around my arms and pulling me over her—exactly where I wanted to be.

I lay over her. “Was it good?”

She shot me an are-you-crazy look and hooked her legs around my waist, drawing me closer. “Come here,” she whispered before clasping my neck and bringing my mouth down to hers.

I didn’t restrain myself. I opened my mouth and kissed her with all I had, pressing down on her, rubbing my hips on hers to show her how much I wanted her. She gasped, unaware of how any of her sounds, little or loud gasps and cries and moans, made me harder and harder.

She fisted my T-shirt and tugged on it.

The jingle of keys on the front door froze us for a second. I jumped off Charlotte and sat down on the couch, pulling one of the decorative pillows over my hard-on, and Charlotte straightened by my side, pulling her skirt down and smoothing her hair. She fanned herself and I shook my head, fighting annoyed laughter.

The door swung open and David stepped in. “Hey.” He stopped and his eyes widened at the girl by my side. “Oh, hi.” He closed the door and approached the couch, adjusting his glasses. “I’m David, Mason’s roommate.”

“Hi,” Charlotte said, smiling at him. “I’m Charlotte.”

David smiled, totally smitten. I could punch him if Charlotte’s hand hadn’t fallen on my thigh, squeezing it. Christ, how am I supposed to lose my hard-on?

I cleared my throat. “She’s my girlfriend,” I said, feeling the need to clarify that.

“Oh, wow, that was quick,” David said, slipping his bag off his shoulder. “You’ve been here for what, two months? And you already have a girlfriend.”

I put an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders and looked at her. “We met before.”

“Ah,” David said. His gaze switched to the TV. “What the hell are you two watching?”

We had been so immerse in each other that Charlotte and I had forgotten about the TV. She probably let go of the remote when I attacked her, and we hadn’t noticed where it ended up. Toddlers & Tiaras.

I laughed and Charlotte’s cheeks turned red.

“Charlotte wanted to make a point about how crazy the mothers of these kids are.” I looked at her. “Point made.” I reached for the control and put on a movie channel.

“Okay,” David said, his tone indicating he didn’t really believe me. What the hell. If he wanted to think we had been fooling around on the couch, why not? I was certainly not ashamed of it. In fact, I was thinking of how to ditch him so Charlotte and I could keep this party going.

David’s footsteps echoed through the floor as he retreated to the kitchen.

“Great timing,” Charlotte whispered, leaning into me. She had a half-smile, like she held a secret and couldn’t wait to tell everyone. So cute. So beautiful.

I kissed her nose. “At least we hadn’t started anything yet.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “You know what I mean. Next time, remind me to carry you to my bedroom before things get out of hand.”

“I’ll try.” She slipped her hand under my shirt and grazed her nails over my abdomen. “It’s hard to control.”

Heat spread through me like wildfire and my aching bulge twitched. I kissed her jaw and whispered in her ear, “Stop that or I won’t be able to move from this couch tonight.”

She laughed and relaxed by my side, fitting her back under my arm and resting the back of her head on my shoulder. I leaned into her and kissed the top of her head, inhaling deeply and reveling in her sweet cherry scent. Christ, I had missed her. I had missed this. Her with me, anytime, all the time, doing anything. Even just sitting together and watching a silly movie without exchanging any words. It was heaven.

“Coffee, anyone? I’m making a new pot,” David said from the kitchen.

“Me,” Charlotte said. “Love me some coffee.”

“Cool,” my roommate said. “Mason?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

In a couple of minutes, David appeared from the kitchen with two steaming mugs. He handed one to Charlotte and sat down in the armchair beside the couch. “Sugar, cream?” he asked.

Charlotte settled back against me, holding her cup carefully. “Nothing, thanks.”

David stared at her. “You look familiar, I think. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Uh-oh. Charlotte stiffened beside me. “Hmm, I don’t think so.”

“But I think I’ve seen you somewhere before,” David insisted.

Shit. “She was at the club, that night we went out for your colleague’s birthday,” I said quickly, hoping that would do. “You probably saw me talking to her and that’s where you remember her from.” I was sure nobody had seen us talking, but it was the best I could come up with.

“Oh, really? You were there? That’s probably it, then.” David leaned back in the armchair and turned to the TV.

Charlotte relaxed but not as much as she was before. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I kissed her temple and tried to turn my attention to the movie, but thoughts of David connecting the dots and making a big scene out of who Charlotte was filled my mind, worrying me. Ugh, at least now my hard-on was gone.

***

Charlotte

After my morning class on Wednesday, I drove ninety minutes north and parked my car at a simple Starbucks along I-95 in Springfield, a small town outside of Washington. My mother thought I was still on campus, getting together with a fictitious group, working on a fictitious project for one of my real classes.

I looked around the parking lot, searching for Mason. I had no idea how he would get here, but he said he would find a way. Since I didn’t have enough time, we agreed to meet here. Unfortunately, that meant we had to behave, but that was better than not meeting at all. After four days without seeing him, I was dying to snuggle with him. To kiss him. To feel his hands over my body. To hear his accelerated breathing in my ear. To—

A knock on my window made me jump.

Mason stood outside my car, looking at me with a big smile.

My heart fluttered. That smile was for me. This handsome, hot man had come outside of Washington to meet me.

With a smile of my own, I opened my car door. As soon as I stepped out, Mason’s arms wound around me and pulled me to him. He kissed me as if he hadn’t seen me for an entire year, and I kissed him back the same way. His lips smoldered mine and I clung to his shoulders, teasing him with my tongue. He groaned, but didn’t break the kiss. Instead, he pushed me back until I was pressed between my car and him, and deepened the kiss. Heat surged low in my belly as he adjusted his stance, gluing every inch of him to me.

“Get a room!”

Mason and I turned to where the voice came. An older couple exited Starbucks and watched us with reproaching eyes.

My face burned.

“They’re just jealous,” Mason said, stifling a laugh.

“There are children here.” The man gestured toward a group of teenagers seated alongside a window, also watching us and giggling.

I smacked my hands on my cheeks as the couple disappeared inside their car.

Mason pulled my hands from my face and rested his forehead on mine. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I entwined my fingers with his. “How are you?”

“Better now.” He brushed his lips gently on mine; it took my breath away. I pulled away and he looked at me as if I had offended him. “What?”

“I … we can’t keep this up.” The heat in my body spread to my cheeks. “I’m gonna lose control if we do.”

The corners of his lips tugged up. He leaned into me and breathed in my ear. “I love it when you lose control.”

A pleasant ache flowered between my legs.

I stepped under his arm and broke free. “Come on,” I said, offering him my hand. “Let’s get some coffee and talk.”

Inside Starbucks, I sat at a corner booth while Mason ordered our snack: a cappuccino for me, an espresso for him, and a couple of brownies for us to share.

He snuggled in the booth with me, his arm over my shoulders, holding me close. I looked up at him, trying to etch every detail of him in my mind. His chiseled jaw, his chin, his cheekbones, his soft lips, his cute nose, the long lashes over his hypnotizing hazel eyes, the black hair framing his face in a planned-disheveled manner. He was beautiful. More than that, he made me feel good; he made me feel loved. With him, I could be the person behind the facade and still be okay.

“What?” he asked, giving me a sidelong glance. He bit into a brownie square.

“Nothing,” I said, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I just like this. Being with you.”

He kissed my temple, his warm lips lingering on my skin. “Me too. I just wished we could spend more time together.”

“Me too.”

Between my summer classes, my mother’s events, and the two-hour drive between Richmond and D.C., keeping a relationship with Mason was hard. I didn’t care about that though. I hadn’t felt this happy in so long. I would drive ten hours if it meant spending a couple of minutes with him.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Because the fifty text messages and phone calls we shared each day since Friday doesn’t cover it?”

“You know what I mean. Text messages or calls are different. Now I’m here with you.” I turned my face to him, rubbing my nose on his neck and inhaling his delicious scent.

He shivered. “Behave or I’ll jump you right here.”

I smiled. “A, you don’t want me to behave. B, you wouldn’t jump me here.”

He lifted a brow. “Test me.”

I grazed my teeth over his jaw and he shivered again. Damn, I loved when he reacted this way to my touch.

“I need to focus on something else, or I will jump you right here,” he said. “Let’s see, I applied for two entry-level jobs this morning.”

I pulled back to look at him. “Really? Tell me about them.”

“It’s nothing major. I found two big engineering companies offering internships and entry-level positions.” His eyes twinkled with enthusiasm, making him even more handsome. “One works mainly with roads and bridges, and the other does it all. Skyscrapers, malls, hospitals, you name it. Of course, I’m hoping to be called for an interview for the first one, but I would be happy with either. Even skyscrapers and hospitals would help me gain experience and build a resume.”

“I know you’ll be called for an interview with both.”

“Your confidence in me is staggering,” he said, lowering his head to mine. He placed a kiss on the right corner of my lips. “I knew coming to Washington would be good for me, but I had no idea it would be this good.”

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

He kissed the left corner of my lips. “I still can’t believe I found you again.”

I wrapped my hand around his neck and pulled him to me, closing my mouth overs his. Without hesitating, he answered and kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing me.

I had suggested we take this slow, but not this slow. If David hadn’t arrived in the apartment that night and interrupted us, Mason and I would have probably ended up in bed, and that was totally fine by me. Better than this growing need inside me and I couldn’t even satiated it. Not here anyway, and by the looks of our schedule, it wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

I glided my hand over his stomach, cursing the fabric of his shirt for being in the way.

My cell phone beeped, bringing sanity back to my mind. I broke the kiss and grabbed my phone.

Tracy: You’re still coming to my Fourth of July party this Friday, right?

I groaned.

“What?” Mason asked, spying my phone.

“It’s Tracy. She wants to know if I’m going to the party. My mother has a party in Richmond, but I think she’ll let me go to Tracy’s.” An idea popped in my mind. “Tracy always wants to go to a club after the party. Where are you working this weekend? I could convince her to go there.”

“I like that idea.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll be at the Blue House.”

Me: Only if we go to the Blue House after. I heard it’s a great club.

Reading the text, Mason laughed.

Tracy: Really? I’m up for that!

I looked up at him and smiled. “I guess I’ll see you again on Friday.”

He snaked his arm around my waist. “When you go out with Tracy like that, where do you usually stay?”

“At Liana’s house. I tell my mother I spend the night at Tracy’s though.” When I first started doing that, I was so sure my mother would find out, but she never checked with Tracy or anyone else where I ended up.”

He splayed his fingers on my back and pulled me close. “Hmm, is there any way you could ditch Liana and stay with me?”

A wave of desire burst through as if all I had felt this afternoon had been nothing. I tilted my head up to his. “I could definitely do that.”

Chapter Fourteen

Mason

The last two days had been torture and now, working at the bar of this fancy club, I was a freaking bundle of nerves, barely doing my job because I was too distracted, looking for Charlotte everywhere.

Tracy had told her they would come here after the Fourth of July party, but what if Tracy changed her mind? I forgot to ask if Charlotte would show up alone if Tracy gave up. It wouldn’t look good for her, would it? The daughter of the governor showing up alone at a club. The paparazzi would be all over that, creating stories about how she was sneaking or on the hunt.

“Hey, man, can I get two Bud Lights here?” a guy asked from the other side of the counter.

“Sure.” I grabbed the two beers from the fridge, opened them, and put them on the counter before him.

Hoping nobody would ask anything of me for the next thirty seconds, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and shot Charlotte a quick message.

Me: You’re coming, right?

I watched the phone, waiting for a message, until someone asked me for a drink. I ran amok for another thirty minutes, serving drink after drink as if the gates of the club had been opened and allowed in a new horde. Charlotte wouldn’t be among them, though I couldn’t help but look for her. I glanced to the raised VIP area along the walls to my right. She wasn’t there either.

My cell phone vibrated and I cursed under my breath as I prepared a few drinks. When I got rid of those, I ignored a girl asking for a beer and grabbed my phone.

Charlotte: Look to your right.

My head whipped so fast to the right that my neck hurt. There she was—wearing a tight black dress that molded around her curves, not too short, but far from being too long either, just enough to have a guy salivating for her delicious legs. A guy like me—entering a VIP area with Tracy by her side, and that Donnie boy behind her.

Jealousy coiled in my stomach and I gritted my teeth.

Me: What’s that guy doing here?

Charlotte: Tracy invited him.

I didn’t answer right away, mainly because I would type some inappropriate words. I tucked my phone back into my pocket and gave a beer to the girl in front of me.

I went to the back and halted before my manager.

“Can I go up to the VIP bar?”

He glanced through the door, to the bar down here and to the bar up there. There were three bartenders here and only one upstairs and now the VIP area was full.

“Yeah, yeah, go,” he said. “Just pay attention. If things slow down there, I want you back here.”

“Sure,” I said, already walking to the back door.

I raced through the hallway that led to the back entrance to the VIP bar, my jealousy and anxiety fighting for a place in my chest. I stopped behind the closed door and took a deep breath. I had to calm myself. I had to behave in here. Punching Donnie boy wouldn’t help Charlotte or me.

I opened the door and stepped into the bar area with Alan. The bar was a like a long counter corridor that ran the entire back wall of the VIP area, reaching each section. Charlotte was in the center one with three girls and five guys. She stood beside Tracy, watching the dance floor, while Donnie boy was seated on a black leather couch, talking to another two guys.

“Oh, good. I need help here,” Alan said as he prepared a Black Velvet and a Buck’s Fizz.

Tearing my gaze from her, I started on a martini when my cell phone vibrated.

Charlotte: Where are you?

Me: At the bar.

Charlotte: I don’t see you.

Me: Look closer.

She stared at her phone with a frown and I bit back a laugh.

Tracy leaned closer to her and said something in her ear, then whirled in her hooker heels and sauntered to the bar. Still with her frown, Charlotte looked back at Tracy. She was turning to the dance floor again when her eyes met mine. Almost instantly, the frown was gone and a bright smile shone on her beautiful face.

I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey, can I get a bottle of Dom Perignon Rose and a few flutes, please?” Tracy asked.

I turned half of my attention to her. “Sure.”

I grabbed the expensive champagne bottle and some crystal flutes that only the VIP bar had, and put them on the counter.

“Help me with this,” Tracy said to Charlotte, who now stood by her side. She looked incredible with dark makeup and her long hair brushed back in waves. My body hummed, just thinking that later, she would be in my bed.

“Yup,” Charlotte said, grabbing the flutes while staring at me.

When Tracy headed back to the couches, I pushed the martini to Charlotte.

“You remember,” she said, reaching for the glass.

“Of course I do.”

Her fingers brushed mine as she closed her hand around the stem, and I inhaled a sharp breath, trying to control my thoughts so I wouldn’t sport a hard-on here.

She walked back, following Tracy to their group, and I didn’t do anything more than stare at her.

“Whoa, the governor’s daughter is so fine, isn’t she?” Alan said.

My fist clenched and I counted to ten so that I wouldn’t punch him. “Who?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know who these people were.

“The girl in the black dress.” He tilted his chin to my girl. “Charlotte McClain, the governor’s daughter. Everyone in D.C. knows who she is. Look at her! How would they not?”

I gulped. Fuck. “Yeah, I’m from California. Been here for two months. Still learning everything.”

“Well, learn this. She’s the finest out there. Any man in his good sense would give his left hand to spend one night with her. She’ll probably marry a politician though, or a guy like these ones.” He gestured to Donnie and his friends. “But for now, we can stare without being afraid of being punched.”

Or so he thought. I closed my fingers on the counter, pressing hard until my knuckles turned white, before I ended up punching him.

The intense jealousy and rage in my chest increased when Donnie stood from his spot on the couch and sat beside Charlotte and Tracy. He leaned closer to her, talking to her, staring into her eyes. She leaned back on the couch, trying to get away from him. Her eyes glanced my way, and an urge to jump over the counter and rescue her from him assaulted me.

Charlotte downed her martini and gestured to her glass. Donnie reached for it, but she waved him away, quickly standing. She walked to the bar and I met her on the other side.

“I seriously want to break that guy’s face,” I said, through gritted teeth.

Charlotte passed me her empty glass. “Just forget about him. That’s what I do.” She winked. I started preparing another martini for her. “Where’s the restroom?”

I pointed to our left. “Through that corridor.”

She lifted a delicate eyebrow at me. “Do you think that hallway is quiet up here?”

Blood rushed down and my hard-on was back. “We can definitely check it out.”

With a sexy smile, she sauntered to the restrooms’ hallway. I watched as her legs crossed in front of each other and her ass moved side to side. Christ, that dress hugged her body like it was pure sin.

When she disappeared in the dark hallway, I scanned the crowd. The movement at the bar had slowed and Charlotte’s friends seemed distracted.

“Be right back,” I told Alan, then stepped into the back corridor. I ran the few yards until I was facing the door that gave access to the VIP restroom area. I calmed my breath, but my pounding heart wouldn’t listen to me.

I pushed the door open, stepped into the corridor, and closed the door behind me, being surrounded by darkness. Before my eyes could adjust, hands clutched the collar of my shirt.

“Come here,” Charlotte whispered, pushing me until my back was flush with the door, and her tight body flush against mine.

She ran her tongue over my jaw and I shivered. Christ, this woman would be the end of me. I inhaled deeply, savoring her intoxicating cherry scent. I tilted my head to her and found her lips with mine. Her sweet taste mixed with the martini’s tangy flavor fueled my desire, and I plunged my tongue inside her mouth, earning a sexy moan. My hands slipped around her. I splayed one on her lower back, pressing her hips against my erection, tearing a gasp from her mouth, and the other I slid lower, over her fine ass, and then to the hem of her dress, until my fingertips teased her warm skin.

She lifted that leg, wrapping it around mine and giving me access to more of her skin. I clutched her thigh and thrust my hips forward. With a moan, she bit my lower lip. I groaned, sliding my fingers up her thigh to the edge of her panties.

She broke the kiss and clutched my shoulders with both hands, burying her head in my neck. Through her panties, I pressed my thumb on her clit. She groaned and bit my neck.

The sound of glass breaking made us jump apart. Charlotte stole a quick glance at me before racing to the women’s restroom, and I retreated to the darkness.

“Crap.” Donnie walked into the corridor, waving his hands as if they were wet, and entered the men’s restroom, without seeing me.

I spied out. Just outside the corridor, the remnants of a champagne flute decorated the floor.

A relieved breath escaped through my lips. Thank goodness he dropped his flute or he would have caught Charlotte and me.

Adjusting my pants, I went back to the bar, trying to calm my racing heart. A few minutes later, Charlotte strolled out of the restroom area and flashed me a knowing grin. My heartbeat went through the roof.

She halted beside Tracy and some other chick, who were dancing, and leaned against the metal railing overseeing the dance floor, bobbing her head to the song’s beat. She glanced over her shoulder to me, a slow smile taking over, and she moved her body along with the song. Looking at me every few seconds, she smoothed her hands over her hips, wiggled her ass, rolled her shoulders, and even did some fancy step combination. Man, she could dance. She also could give me a massive, throbbing hard-on without even touching me.

Dancing, Tracy and the other chicks huddled beside Charlotte, and they exchanged a few words. Charlotte laughed, but even from here, I could see it was forced. How could they not see it?

Donnie came out of the bathroom and he halted when he saw Charlotte dancing. He smiled and puffed his chest before approaching her. For the thousandth time tonight, I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, fighting the strong impulse to break his neck.

Donnie rested his hand on Charlotte’s lower back and she gave a wide step to the side, getting out of his clutches. However, the guy was stubborn. He stepped closer and started dancing, his movements jerky and awkward. Clearly, the guy didn’t know how to dance.

Still, he kept going. He reached his hand to her and caressed her arm with his knuckles. Smart, Charlotte moved her arms with the song and away from Donnie. Attagirl. He cupped his mouth around his hand and said something. Her mouth pressed in a tight, thin line before she said a few words to him. Then, she stopped dancing, weaved her way around the group, and approached me.

I sighed in relief. “Can I break his nose?” I asked when she sat on a stool.

“I wouldn’t mind, but then the press would be all over us.” She pushed her locks behind her ears. “How long until we can get out of here?”

I fished my phone from my pocket and checked the time. It was 12:40 a.m. “Almost two hours.”

“Ugh, I’m gonna break his nose myself if I have to endure Donnie for another two hours.”

I chuckled and prepared her a martini. “I have an idea. How about I give you my apartment keys and you can wait for me there.”

Her entrancing green eyes twinkled. I had to stop myself from reaching over the counter, cupping her face, pulling her to me, and kissing her.

“I like that idea.” She took the martini from me. “I’ll just drink this, and then I’ll pretend I’m too tired and vanish.”

I grabbed my keychain from my pocket and gave them to her. She put them inside her purse. “I’ll warm your bed for you.”

My breath caught and my heart sped up. “Don’t tease me.”

“Oh, but it’s so much fun.” She winked, grabbing her drink, and walked back to the dancing group.

Of course, Donnie advanced on her as soon as she was back, but Charlotte practically ignored him. Not really. She was too polite to do that, though I wished she would dump her drink over his head.

Fifteen minutes of torture—aka, watching Charlotte dodging Donnie’s moves—and she left.

I watched as Charlotte descended the stairs to the main dance floor, weaved around the edge, and then disappeared through the archway that led to the main entrance. When she was gone, I turned around and found Donnie watching me.

Chapter Fifteen

Charlotte

My cell phone rang, playing Catch My Breath by Kelly Clarkson, the tune I had selected for Mason, and waking me up.

I stirred, realizing I wasn’t in my bed.

Oh, right. Mason had given me his keys, and I left the club so I wouldn’t have to put up with Donnie anymore. Then I drove to his building, parked my car in the back of the parking lot, where, hopefully, nobody would notice it, and entered his apartment. David’s door was closed, so I assumed he was sleeping. I sat on Mason’s bed and waited. And waited. And I must have ended up sleeping.

I picked up the phone, glancing at the time before answering. Damn, it was past three in the morning!

“Hi,” I said, unable to disguise the heaviness in my voice.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m downstairs. Open the door for me?”

“Yeah. Just a second.” I hung up the phone and tiptoed to the kitchen, where I pressed the open button of the intercom.

I opened the front door and waited for him as he climbed the stairs.

His gaze landed on me and he smiled, embracing me and pushing me inside. He kicked the door closed and gave me a quick peck on my lips.

“Sorry I woke you,” he said, retreating us to his bedroom.

“I’m not.” I wounded my arms around his neck.

He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Aren’t you sleepy?”

“I was, until you walked in.”

He pushed us inside his room and locked the door. “Good to know.”

Mason hooked one finger under the strap of my dress, and pushed it aside, lowering his mouth to my shoulder and raining kisses on my skin. His lips made their way up my neck as his hands pushed my dress down, and I trembled in anticipation. The dress pooled at my feet and I stepped away, coming closer to Mason’s body.

He looked into my eyes. “You have no idea how I missed you. I want you to know … there was no one else since spring break.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, glad he had told me that. I hadn’t expected it and that was what made this special. “Me too,” I said. He leaned back into me and I held his shoulders back. “There’s one more thing I want you to know. The way I was during spring break, that direct, I’m not usually like that, never was until I met you. What I mean is, with the way I acted, you may think I slept around a lot before, but that’s far from the truth.”

“I know. I actually like when you’re more direct and wild … but only with me.”

I stood on tiptoes and stretched my neck so my lips stood only half an inch from his. “Only with you.”

He captured my lips and, as his tongue ravished my mouth, his hands snaked around my bare midriff. With deft fingers, he unclasped my bra. I reached for his shirt, but he held my wrists back.

I pulled back a little and raised an eyebrow at him. He offered me a smug grin before diving into me, trailing his tongue down my jaw.

With a renewed sense of confidence, I turned around and pressed my ass on his hips, feeling his erection. With a groan, he clasped my hips and made his way up, until his palms closed around my breasts. I wiggled my hips, moving in a seductive manner, brushing more and more of me against him. He pushed my hair to the side and I turned my head in an angle, giving him full access to my skin. His hands returned to my breasts and he bit into my neck, drawing a cry from me.

“Christ,” he whispered, his warm breath heating my skin, making me shiver. He pinched my nipples and I cried again. “You’re so fucking perfect, did you know that?” He took a deep breath. “Even your scent drives me crazy.”

I moved my hips side to side and he groaned. I clasped one of his hands and guided it down, from my breast, down to my belly, and lower to my panties.

“What do you want?” he asked, his mouth on my ear.

“Touch me, Mason,” I gasped. “Please, I need you to touch me.”

With a groan, he pushed his hand under my panties, and brushed a finger on my clit. “Christ, woman, you’re so fucking wet.”

“For you.”

Mason nibbled on my earlobe and slipped a finger inside me, while rubbing my clit with his thumb and pinching my nipple with his other hand.

“Oh, God, Mason,” I gasped.

“It’s good, yeah?” he asked, his mouth on my ear. He thrust another finger inside me and pushed them deeper.

“Yeah. Oh, God, yeah.”

“Come for me, baby.”

As if his words were magic, I climaxed, exploding in his arms.

Slowly, he slipped his fingers from me and turned me around. His mouth fell on mine as he pushed me back, until my legs hit his bed. With my eyes on his, I lay on his bed. He took off my panties and his clothes.

I admired the glimpse I got of his body, enjoying how the muscles of his arms and shoulders and stomach popped and flexed while he crawled over me. He reached to the drawer on the nightstand, grabbed a condom, and put it on.

I ran my nails over his chest as he lowered his body over mine, his lips finding mine and his erection teasing my entrance. He sucked on my lower lip. I grasped his upper arms, my nails digging into his skin.

He pushed an inch inside me and my head lolled back, my eyes closing.

Mason cupped my cheek with one hand. “No, baby, look at me.”

Opening my eyes, I locked my gaze with his and that alone took my breath away, the intensity of his hazel eyes crushing me, caressing my soul, igniting my core as if I wasn’t turned on already.

Holding my stare, he pushed himself inside me, inch by inch, and I moaned, feeling him fill me up completely.

Once fully inside me, he stopped and rested his forehead on mine. “I missed this so much. I missed you so much.”

“Me too.” I lifted my hips to him, urging him to move. “Please, Mason, fuck me.”

With a loud groan, he pulled out and backed in again. “I love it when you talk dirty.” He thrust deep into me.

I cried. “And I love it when you fuck me.”

His movements sped up, and he went deeper and deeper.

On the verge of another orgasm, I held his hips. He looked at me, confused, but I only smiled. Then I flipped him around and straddled him.

“My turn.” I lifted my hips, and then lowered myself slowly, taking him all in.

He gasped. “You can have as many turns as you want.”

I began moving slowly, but increased the rhythm. His hands clasped my hips, pulling me to him. In just a few more thrusts, the fire running through my body spiked and I came with a cry. His body tensed before quavering under mine as his release coursed through him. He clasped my arms and pulled my torso over his, and my mouth to his. He knotted his fingers into my hair and snuck his tongue through my lips.

When I was completely breathless, I broke the kiss and rolled to the side, resting my head on his shoulder. Mason put a heavy arm across my back, holding me close.

He sighed, a happy sound. “Christ, that was amazing.”

I smiled. “It was.”

“Our best yet?”

“I don’t know. Probably, but maybe it was because we have been anticipating it so much.”

“I hear a challenge there.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re challenging me to do it better yet.”

I laughed. “Well, I won’t be opposed to that.”

He brushed his lips over mine. “Thank goodness for that.”

***

Mason

I woke up with a naked Charlotte tucked under my arm, her legs entwined with mine. It was the best freaking way to wake up. If I could, I would have her waking up with me like this every single day.

Careful not to make any noise, I slipped off the bed and glanced at her. There wasn’t a more beautiful view. The woman who touched every inch of me, inside and out, with her perfect naked body wrapped around my sheets, and her long brown hair fanned on my pillow, sleeping peacefully.

With a smile, I pulled on my boxers and shorts, and trudged to the kitchen.

Images of the night, of the two times we made love, flashed in my mind as I turned on the coffee machine and grabbed eggs and milk from the fridge. I had never felt this way with anyone else, not even Tamara, and I had spent three years of my life with that girl. She didn’t hold a candle to Charlotte.

Charlotte made me combust with one glance, she made me tremble with one touch, and she made me proud and sure of myself with one smile, with one encouraging word. She had snuck into me, into my heart, in a way I didn’t think was possible.

I made waffles, toast, and eggs sunny-side up, filled two glasses with orange juice and two mugs with fresh coffee, placed everything on a tray, and went back to the bedroom.

Charlotte was lying the same way I had left her. The thought of letting her sleep crossed my mind, but I pushed it away. For once, I was going to be selfish. I wanted to be with her, to enjoy the little time we had before she had to go back to Richmond.

I set the tray on the nightstand and sneaked back in bed by her side.

She stirred, snuggling into me. I smiled. Even sleeping, she moved toward me.

I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Good morning, baby.”

Her beautiful green eyes fluttered open, peeking at me. “Morning, gorgeous,” she mumbled.

I scooted closer to her and pulled the tray over my legs. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed.

“Slept well?”

She nuzzled my neck, sending a shiver down my body. “More than well. How about you?”

“I’m considering tying you to that bed, so you sleep here every night.”

She chuckled. “You’ll tie me, and we’ll only sleep?”

I tsked. “I can’t believe that inside that beautiful head there’s a mind in the gutter.”

She bit my shoulder then grabbed a steaming cup of coffee.

I watched as she ate, glued beside me. I was content with where my life was now. The only thing I could ask more was to find an entry-level engineering job. Then, everything would be perfect.

Chapter Sixteen

Charlotte

I knew there was something wrong the moment I drove past the gates of the Executive Mansion. There was a buzz in the air and too many windows reflecting lights.

I entered the house and halted.

“How about you, Donnie? When are you going to take your father’s place?” My mother’s voice drifted from the living room, her tone almost satisfied.

The happiness I had felt so far deflated, and I retreated to the door again. If I could sneak out before anyone saw me …

My mother walked out of the living room and smiled at me. “Charlotte! I thought I heard the door. Come. Join us.”

“I’m not dressed for a dinner party.” I gestured to my jean skirt and sandals. “I would prefer to change, if you don’t mind.” And disappear. That would be impossible, though, so just a moment to myself while I changed would suffice. For now.

“Nonsense. This isn’t a dinner party.” She walked to me and put her hand on the middle of my back, stirring me to the living room. “We’re with good friends.”

“Hello, Charlotte,” Donnie said, with a wide smile, once I walked in with my mother. He wore a perfectly pressed suit, just like his father standing beside him. His eyes ran the length of me and I shifted my weight, fighting the urge to pull my skirt down to hide my thighs, as if that would help anything.

“Hello, Donnie. Hello, Senator Williams,” I said.

“It’s good to see you, Charlotte,” Senator Williams said.

A waiter showed up by my side with a tray and a single martini. I glanced at my mother and she smiled knowingly. As if she had spilled poison in it, I took it, but didn’t drink it. First, I had already had one too many martinis the previous night, and second, I wanted to be sober for whatever plan my mother had. Because she had a plan. This unannounced dinner wasn’t a spontaneous thing and, like every one of her moves, it had an objective. I just had to find out what that objective was.

The main topic during dinner and dessert was, of course, politics.

After one bite from my petit-gateau, I excused myself and headed to the kitchen.

One of the cooks was there, along with a waiter. They saw me, and their eyes widened.

“Can I get you something, Miss McClain?” the waiter asked, looking at my feet.

“No, thank you,” I said, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of Coke. “I can get it myself.” I sat on a high chair around the island, opened the can, and drank from it. The waiter and the cook exchanged a nervous look. “Relax, I won’t bite. You can even pretend like I’m not here.”

The waiter bowed and exited to the dining room, probably to check if anyone needed something else, and the cook returned to the range.

I propped my elbows on the island and dropped my head on my hands. Goddammit, my mother needed to give it a rest. When would she leave this alone? I told her I didn’t want anything with Donnie. I knew she hadn’t really understood that, but I thought she would give me some time at least. Or try to push me on some other guy.

“Are you okay?” Donnie asked.

I straightened my back and glanced to the side, where he stood just past the door.

I frowned. What the hell was he doing back here? “I’m fine.”

As if she had been waiting for this, the cook left the kitchen through the back door. Great.

Donnie sat in the high chair beside me. “Charlotte, you’ve been avoiding me.”

I opened my mouth to negate it, but why? I tried breaking this smoothly and it didn’t work. Perhaps I should be blunter. “I like you, Donnie, but not the way you want me to.” Not the way my mother wanted me to.

“Is it something I did?”

I smiled. “No.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes wide. “There’s someone else.”

“What? No.” I sipped from my Coke, gaining time to think of some excuse. Nothing came though. “There’s no one else. I just … we didn’t click.”

“You didn’t give us a chance to click.” He scooted closer and grabbed one of my hands in his. “I’m a nice guy. Give me a chance. We’ll click.”

I pulled my hand free of his. “Donnie—”

“I like you, Charlotte. Very much.” He stood, smoothing the jacket of his suit. “I’m not giving up on you yet.”

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my cheek, then left the kitchen.

I stood, grabbed a glass from the inside one of the cabinets, dumped the rest of the Coke there, then reached for a bottle of whiskey that was on a tray, probably one that the waiter was serving the guests, and poured a good dose in my glass.

I drank a big swallow, welcoming the way the liquid burned my throat. Pity it didn’t burn away the problems in my life.

***

Mason

I was surprised when Charlotte called me to meet her the next afternoon. I thought I would only see her again in the middle of the week, when she was able to escape her mother and meet me at that Starbucks in Springfield.

Without hesitating, I canceled my plans of playing video games all afternoon with David, and took the train to the park she usually went to with Liana, MaryAnn, and Rebecca.

“Hey, you.” She skated to me and threw her arms around my neck. “I missed you.”

I laughed, snaking my arms around her waist. “We were together yesterday.”

She pouted. “I know.”

I glanced at her pink lips and desire coursed through me. Damn, this girl would be the death of me. I dipped down and brushed those plump lips with mine. “The truth is, I also missed you.”

She let out a purr and I lost it. I clasped the back of her neck and pulled her to me, crushing her mouth with mine, plunging my tongue in, and demanding all of her. She gladly complied, letting out another one of her sexy sounds.

“Christ, woman,” I whispered. “You can call me to meet you like this twice a day from now on.” She smiled, but it wasn’t all happy. I ran my fingertips over her jaw and down her neck, brushing her hair aside and exposing that perfect skin to me. “What happened?”

She groaned. “Donnie and his father had dinner at my house last night.”

I stilled. “What?”

“I had the same reaction. I got home and they were there.”

A low, agitated rumble built from my gut. “I wish the guy would back off.”

“Me too. But I don’t think he will. Not too soon at least. My mother gives him hope, I guess, and he told me he wasn’t giving up on me yet.”

I gritted my teeth, wishing the guy were here so I could punch that mama’s boy’s face. “I’ll kidnap you. You’ll come live with me and you’ll never have to see that guy again. Deal?”

She stretched her neck and grazed her lips on my chin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Deal,” she said.

I tilted my head toward her and captured her lips with mine.

“We seriously need to start meeting in places I can get you naked. This is torture.”

She chuckled. “I thought this”—she pointed a finger at her and me—“was more than sex.”

“It is.” The way I was falling for her, it definitely was. I just didn’t want to tell her how much yet. I was afraid she would be scared and break things off before it was time. “It is, but come on. Remember yesterday? That was too great, too damn good not to happen every day.”

“I agree.”

I nibbled on her ear. “Want to come back to my place?”

“I don’t have that much time. I have to be back home for dinner. Hopefully, there won’t be any surprises this time.”

“I hope so.” I took a step back. “Okay, hmm, if we keep touching and kissing, I’ll lose it, and I don’t think the other people will appreciate that.”

“But I love it when you lose it,” she repeated my words from the other day.

“Baby, you’re not making it any easier.”

She laughed. “Come on. I brought something.”

She skated to a bench a few yards behind us and I followed her. She grabbed a basketball from the ground and threw it at me.

I held it. “You brought this?”

“Yup.” She nodded to a court to the side. “We could play a little.”

“Do you know how to play?”

She sat down and took her skates off. “Not really, but how hard can it be? Besides, if I suck, you can always teach me.”

This girl brought a basketball to play with me, because I told her it was one of my hobbies. A weird feeling, like a mixture of care and admiration, swelled in my chest.

I smiled. “I like that plan.”

***

Charlotte

The next three weeks fell into a routine. I lied to my mother about having a project to work on, and went to the coffee place to meet Mason. I lied to my mother about going out with Tracy, and I went to Mason’s apartment. I lied to my mother about meeting some other friend she approved of, and met with Mason at the park, where I roller-skated and he played basketball.

It was paradise, except for the part where I lied to my mother all the time—more than I ever did before.

However, it was worth it. Mason and I—we had something special, I knew this. He knew this. And he was special. And kind. And attentive. And handsome. And hot.

Even though we were in hiding, Mason and I could do almost anything together—except for going out to dinner or going to the movies.

One Saturday, we decided to try the movie thing.

I lied to my mother and said I was going shopping with Tracy, but instead I went to a small shopping center in Woodbridge—wearing huge sunglasses, a hat, and a scarf. I felt silly with them, but it would help. I wasn’t trying to be unrecognizable; I just didn’t want people to see who I was with half a glance.

Alone, I bought my ticket, my popcorn, and soda, and then headed to theater seven, where the movie Mason had chosen was playing. According to him, he had chosen it because it had been playing for several weeks and the theater wouldn’t be too full.

Being thirty minutes early, I was the only one in the big room. Except for Mason. With a baseball cap, and not looking suspicious at all, he was seated at the top, in the left-most corner.

I smiled and headed to the opposite side—to the top row, but on the right-most corner.

My phone chimed as I sat down.

Mason: Hi.

Me: Hi.

Mason: How are you?

I laughed.

Me: I’m good. Just anxious. I want this movie to start NOW.

Mason: Me too. Just a few more minutes.

I glanced at the clock at the top of my screen. Few more minutes? We had another twenty-five minutes to go.

Soon, more people entered the theater, but as we predicted, there were only a few couples and friends. Nothing to worry about.

The lights went off, and for a moment, everything was dark. This was our cue.

I stood and tiptoed to the center of the top row. A movie trailer started, illuminating a little of the room, and the man right in front of me.

“Hi,” Mason said with a naughty grin.

My heart raced. “Hi,” I whispered.

Mason grabbed my hands and pulled me to sit beside him—I almost dropped my popcorn and soda—then he leaned over the armrest and closed his mouth over mine.

I broke the kiss—Mason looked at me as if I had taken the lollipop from a kid—put my popcorn and my soda in the cup holders on the armrests, dropped my purse on the floor, and then returned to him and kissed him.

A low chuckle rumbled from Mason’s throat, until I teased him with my tongue, deepening the kiss. The chuckle was replaced by a growl. I fisted his shirt and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling each other closer.

The lights of the trailers were gone, putting us in total darkness for a few more seconds.

I pulled away from him as the movie started playing.

“Hey,” he protested in a low voice.

“Hey, you. We came to watch the movie, remember?”

“But I missed you.”

I kissed his cheek. “I missed you too. And now we’re together.”

He stared at me for a while as if trying to figure out if I was joking or not. He must have decided I wasn’t, because he sighed and leaned back in his chair. I leaned back too and found his arm there, waiting to wrap over my shoulders. I snuggled against him and rested my head on his shoulder.

He turned his face to me. I thought he was going to kiss me again, and hell, I kind of wanted him too, but instead, he kissed my forehead before resting his head on top of mine.

With a smile, I shifted my attention to the movie.

Chapter Seventeen

Charlotte

“There’s that face again,” Liana said, throwing a pillow at me.

I sat straighter on the couch and flicked the pillow at Becca. “What face?”

“That gooey face you get every time you think about Mason,” MaryAnn said.

“You were with him, what? Two days ago?” Becca asked.

Three actually. I could be with him right now, but I also missed my girls. Well, I could always leave a few minutes early and stop by his apartment for a quick kiss. I was already lying to my mother about being in a study group. If I lied that my group and I lost track of time and I missed dinner because of it, would she find out?

“I don’t get a face!” I protested.

In truth, I knew I probably made a face each time I thought about Mason. I could do nothing about that. Our time together was perfect. Even our movie outing two days ago had been great. We were careful to sit in our corners again when the movie ended, and exit the theater separately. It hurt me, to see him walking away alone, when I wished to be able to link my arm through his and show him to the world.

This situation had to be hard on him. He was my boyfriend, but he wasn’t my boyfriend. I didn’t know how to proceed. He wouldn’t want to go through this for too long, would he? Then what? I would have to let him go. Well, I couldn’t force him to be in the closet forever. In fact, I should let him go soon. Now, actually.

But I was selfish. I didn’t want to let him go and I felt horrible for being selfish.

“There it is again,” Becca said, tossing the pillow at MaryAnn.

MaryAnn deflected the pillow. “So, are you going to tell us what you were thinking about? We want details.”

I scrunched my nose. “Ew.” I was not the sharing type.

“Ah, come on! We want to know. Is it good? Mind-blowing? Oh, and the size. We definitely need to know the size.”

“Hmm, no, we don’t,” Becca said. Thank goodness one of them was a little more conservative.

“You’re no fun,” MaryAnn said.

“Who isn’t fun?” Joan asked, descending the stairs and joining us in the family room. She stopped and glanced at us with a smile. “Are you guys watching a movie?” She pointed to the TV and to us. We were huddled on the couch, practically with our backs to the TV.

“That’s just background noise,” Liana said to her mother.

“You know, so you can’t hear the dirty things we’re talking about,” MaryAnn said, winking.

Joan shook her head. “Girls, girls. Keep that up and I might start spying on you.”

“No, you won’t,” Liana said. “You trust us.”

“Oddly enough, I do.” Joan grabbed a pillow from the floor and tossed it at us. “I need to go to the grocery store. Anyone want something from there?”

“Handsome, hot, honest, and faithful men?” MaryAnn asked.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m afraid we don’t find those on sale,” Joan teased.

“Too bad,” Becca said.

Joan chuckled. “All right. I’ll be back in a bit. Behave.”

“Always,” Liana said.

Joan disappeared through the kitchen door and MaryAnn turned to me. “Where were we? Oh yeah, the size. Spill!”

I rolled my eyes and hid under one of the pillows.

***

Mason

Only two things could make me happier now: to find a job in a good company, and to see more of Charlotte.

I had been called for an interview for one of the entry-level jobs I had applied for, but hadn’t heard back yet. In a few days, it would be August, and a couple of weeks later, classes would start and I would work at the university, but working outside the school would pay much better. I had to be called for a job before classes started.

As for Charlotte, I saw her three or four times a week, but that didn’t seem enough. That didn’t feel like enough anymore.

“Hey.” David nudged his elbow on my arm.

“What?” I turned to him.

He gestured to the controller in my hand and the TV. “You just stopped playing. Where’s your head? Wait. Don’t answer. I know. On Charlotte.”

“Well …”

“I know. You’re always thinking about her. If she was my girl, I would think about her all the time too, so you’re forgiven.”

I couldn’t decide between feeling proud or wanting to punch him.

My cell phone rang, saving him from a probably punch, and I reached for it. A smile spread across my face when I saw Charlotte’s name on the screen.

“Lovebirds,” David muttered.

I flipped him off and answered the phone. “Hey, baby,” I said, standing up and walking to my bedroom.

“Hey. Are you working Saturday night?”

I glanced at the calendar on my wall. It was Wednesday and I worked every goddamn night this week. “Yeah, but I have the early shift, so only until one. Why?”

“My mother has an event in Washington this Saturday. She wants me to come with her, so I was thinking about telling her that I was going out with Tracy after the event, and actually go to your apartment.”

Sneaking wasn’t my preferred method, but if it was the only way to be with her, then so be it. Besides, how could any reason compete with the freaking marching band act my heart performed each time I set eyes on her?

My smile widened. “I would really like that.”

***

Charlotte

The event was downright boring.

Donnie and his father were there and stayed close to us all evening.

I carefully avoid talking about going out with Tracy later, in the hopes that my mother wouldn’t tell him to go with me. No such luck.

“Donnie, did you know Charlotte is meeting Tracy later? They are going to some club. You should go with them.”

I groaned on the inside. “No, Mother. He can’t go.”

She turned her cold stare to me as if I had insulted Donnie in public. “Why not?”

“It’s a girls’ night out. Only girls. No guys allowed,” I explained.

“Ah, what a shame,” she said. “But you could let the name of the club slip, couldn’t you? And Donnie could meet you there by accident.”

Donnie smiled his million-volt smile at me. “I like that idea.”

Oh, crap. “Tracy would kill me.”

“She wouldn’t know,” my mother insisted.

“Oh, she would,” I said, ready to lie about Tracy having a crazy impulse to strangulate her best friends who brought dates to girls’ night out. Thankfully, another senator joined our circle and engaged everyone in another subject, saving me.

I watched as a few couples danced in the center of the ballroom, in tune with the romantic song the band played on stage.

Donnie touched my arm. “Want to dance?”

Not really.

“Of course she wants to,” my mother said, rudely cutting off whatever Senator Williams was saying. “She would love to.”

She gave me a look with murder written all over it.

I gulped and let Donnie guide me to the dance floor.

Not long now. Just hang in there for another half an hour. You can do it.

Donnie caught my right hand with his left one, and then rested his right hand politely on my waistline. With a smile, he led, swaying us around the dance floor.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

Broken record. “Thanks.”

“It’s a shame I can’t come to Tracy’s party, but we should do something else. Maybe tomorrow?” He paused, probably waiting for an answer. Well, he wasn’t getting any. “We could go out for lunch. Or catch a movie. Or have a picnic.”

“I’m—”

I felt my phone vibrating on the hidden pocket of my skirt. I dropped Donnie’s hand and reached for it.

Mason: Good news. I was able to get out early. Going home now.

I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my lips.

“May I ask who is it?” Donnie asked.

“It’s, hmm, Tracy. She’s asking me to go meet her now. Why?”

He stared at me, more serious than I had ever seen him. “I was just wondering who had the power to make you smile that way.”

I chuckled nervously. “Tracy is my best friend. She makes me smile all the time.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you like her so much.”

“I do,” I said. “Hmm, I should probably go now. Thanks for the dance.”

I walked away from him.

“Anytime,” he said, but I didn’t acknowledge it.

I fought against the urge to run out of there. Instead, I held it together while I warned my mother that I was leaving, then walked out like Miss America and waited for the valet to bring my car to me. But once inside my car, I closed my eyes for a second and mentally let everything go, only focusing on Mason and how happy he made me.

***

Charlotte

Something moved under me and I woke up. Mason’s heavy arm was draped around my waist and his face was tilted to me.

I smiled, but only until my eyes fell on the clock on the nightstand. It was 4 a.m.

“Oh, shit,” I said, scrambling off the bed.

“Hmm, what?” Mason asked, his voice heavy with sleep. “Wait, baby, where you’re going?”

I fumbled for my clothes on the floor. “To the hotel. I have to get there before my mother wakes, or she’ll have my skin.”

“But you’re supposed to be at Tracy’s.” He sat up. The sheets slipped off him, revealing his taut chest and abdomen, and for a moment, I considered sending my mother to hell.

I picked up my dress and started to put it on. “No. When she’s in town, she expects me to sleep at the hotel.”

He stood, in all his naked glory, and I gaped, totally forgetting what I was doing. The corners of his lips tugged up and he walked to me, his gaze so intense, it made my body heat up. He curled his fingers around my waist and pulled me to him.

“I really wish you could stay,” he whispered, his breath washing over my mouth.

“Me too,” I said, standing on my toes. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to me. His mouth met mine and his lips opened instantly, allowing my tongue in.

He groaned, deepening the kiss. He slid his hands down my hips and around my thighs, pulling my legs up and around him. He backed us up until my back was pressed against the cold wall. He briefly broke the kiss, and with deft hands, pulled my dress over my head. He threw it aside and then his hands were on me again, his mouth on mine, and then he was inside me and all I could think was that I never wanted to leave his side.

***

Charlotte

I halted before the closed doors and took my shoes off. I ran the key card, the light blinked green, and I pushed the door open, careful with each and every sound I made.

I closed the door behind me and took a step.

“Where have you been?”

I froze. Oh, shit. “Out. With Tracy.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“W-what? I was.”

“I called Tracy. I wanted to know where you two were going so Donnie could be there too. Tracy said she never scheduled anything with you for this weekend, which means you lied to me.” My stomach dropped. Holy crap. “With that hair of yours, I’m guessing you were in someone’s bed.”

My mouth fell open. “W-what? Of course not.”

She marched until she was right in my face. “Do not lie to me.”

I actually flinched from her harsh tone, but I wasn’t a kid. She couldn’t do this to me anymore. I raised my chin and met her eyes. “You know what? It’s none of your business.”

Her hand smacked my face so hard, my head whipped to the side and my cheek exploded with pain, pain that spread over my face.

“It is my business. Everything you do, everything you think is my business.” She just looked at me, her eyes burning with anger and frustration. “If your father were alive, he would have died of disappointment right now.”

I pressed my hand over my cheek, willing the throbbing ache to go away. “Don’t put this on my father.”

“This isn’t what he would want for you, Charlotte. You know that. It isn’t what I want for you either. You can have everything in this world. Don’t throw your bright future away.”

Everything but my future. “You’re talking as if a bomb had exploded.”

“It could well be a bomb. You don’t know what this man is going to do.” She shook her head. “I raised you better than this, Charlotte. I thought I could trust you. I thought you had a good head on your shoulders.”

“I do!”

She shook her head again and I swear the glint in her eyes was murderous. “This escapade better not be in every newspaper tomorrow morning. I swear I’ll kill you if I find a picture of you with some random guy.”

“It’s not like—”

“Does he know who you are?”

“W-what?”

“The man you slept with. Does he know who you are?”

“Oh my God, I’m not hearing this.”

“If he does, I hope he’s discreet, because so help me, if he tells anyone about this, if it leaks and turns into gossip that will end up in the newspaper, I’ll kill you. And him too. You betrayed my trust. How long have you been doing this? How many times have you lied to me like this? Do you just pick any man at random? Like what? Your boy toys?”

“Do you hear yourself?”

“Oh, Lord. And I always thought you were with Tracy. You can ruin our lives. You can ruin my career. You can ruin your career. I won’t allow it.”

“My career?”

“I should put bodyguards on you to follow your every move.”

“What? No!”

She halted and watched me with those hawk eyes of hers. “I guess it’s too late to fix this now. If this man wanted to tell someone, it’s already been done. He better remain quiet.”

What I was supposed to tell her? I wouldn’t talk to her about Mason when she was determined to think he was a boy toy. “Mother—”

“But be warned,” she cut me off. “I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior anymore. Do as I tell you or you’ll have bodyguards following your every move. And the first thing I am telling is this: You won’t be seeing this man anymore.”

Chapter Eighteen

Mason

I brought my coffee to my lips and the doorbell rang. I almost spilled the whole thing on me. Christ, it was ten in the morning. Didn’t people know I went to bed at four last night? Unless it was Charlotte, then I wouldn’t mind at all. We could crawl into bed together and I could nap on her arms. Nothing sounded better.

But she had been here yesterday, and I knew she had some event to attend today with her mother—most Saturdays were busy for her. Maybe she had escaped.

The bell rang again and I marched to the door.

I opened it and froze.

“Hello, Mr. Rowell,” Donnie said. “May I come in?”

I recovered from my shock and put on a pretend act. “Who are you?”

“You know very well who I am. But you see, I also know who you are.” He examined me with something like disgust in his eyes, and I gulped. Fuck. He knew about Charlotte and me. “Now may I come in?”

***

Charlotte

I strolled to class on Monday with gusto. After all, it was the last class before finals and then goodbye summer semester, hello three weeks of vacation.

I checked my phone as I sat in my usual seat. Three days of sharing only messages and quick calls with Mason weren’t enough. I needed to find a way to see him soon.

After a boring lecture, the professor dismissed us and I walked out of the classroom, checking my phone again.

As I looked at the screen, messages from Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca exploded in my inbox. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Fifty in less than a minute. What the hell?

My belly growled. It was past lunchtime and I was starving. I would check and respond to those messages when I got home. My mother wouldn’t be there, but our cook was supposed to have lunch ready for me.

I stepped out of the building, intent on marching to the parking garage as fast as I could, and noticed how campus was too crowded for a Monday, or any other day or time of the week during the summer semester.

Every student was looking at me, whispering to his or her friends, pointing at me. A few of them spied at cell phones or tablets or newspapers, and then turned his or her judging gaze at me.

Uh-oh.

My cell phone rang, but I didn’t check it either. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to stand here and find out. My mother had drilled me about this once.

“Just get out of there,” my mother had said. “Get to your car and drive away, or find somewhere safe and hide. Only then you stop to see what’s happening.”

With my heartbeat speeding out of control, I lowered my head and rushed my steps. As the seconds passed, the crowd grew, and the whispering grew louder.

“Miss McClain!”

Oh, shit. I didn’t have to turn to know that a wave of reporters had landed on campus and was now in pursuit.

My cell phone kept ringing and ringing, the reporters yelled my name, and the students stood there, not helping me in my escape. In fact, they stood in my way, making it harder.

Against my better judgment, I broke into a run. As I stepped onto the parking garage’s sidewalk, a sleek black car appeared beside me.

The passenger side window rolled down and my mother’s chauffer spoke. “Enter, Miss McClain.”

I didn’t think twice. I opened the back door and launched myself into the car.

I half-expected my mother to be inside, yelling at me for whatever had happened.

“Are you okay, Miss McClain?” the chauffer asked.

“Yes,” I answered with a shaky voice. It was an automatic answer. I wasn’t okay at all. “Where’s my mother?”

“She’s on her way to the Executive Mansion. She’ll meet you there.”

I nodded and pressed the button to raise the black glass between us.

As the car drove off campus, I leaned back in the seat and looked at my cell phone. Over four hundred messages from Mason, Liana, MaryAnn, and Becca, and fifty calls from them, my mother, and Donnie.

I didn’t check those though. Instead, I opened the internet browser and google myself. Tons of news headlines showed up on my search. I clicked the first one I saw.

Oddly, it was from the Washington Post. The picture caught my attention first: Mason and I getting heavy against a tree. My heart raced as I shifted my gaze to the headline: The Secret Life of Charlotte McClain.

Without reading the rest of the article, I turned off my phone as if I could erase it all along with it.

***

Charlotte

“I told you this would happen!” My mother threw the newspaper on her desk, making me flinch in my seat. She pushed her chair back and paced. “I can’t believe you did this, Charlotte. I can’t believe you let this happen.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was still in shock from what I had read in the newspaper and several gossip websites. Some of them had more pictures of me, Mason, or us together. Me on my knees, drawing on a sidewalk, my short skirt almost too revealing and my hair a mess. Another, I was roller-skating in an abandoned park. They also had photos of Mason working in shitty bars and around his not-so-great neighborhood.

According to them, Mason had gotten involved with me so he could do this, so he would have pictures of us to sell to the paparazzi for a fortune. It all had started during spring break. He had seen me, recognized me, and seduced me. Then, he arranged the move to Washington so he could start part B of his plan. He found out I was going to the Memorial Day Ball and got a job there. From there, he manipulated me more and more. He was the one who took the pictures to the newspaper, and then later to every gossip blog on the worldwide web.

They also mentioned me. How I had let Mason use me, how I had used him. How I spent my time in dangerous parts of the city, went to raves—really?—and done several other crazy stunts, all because he had enticed me. The press called him my boy toy—disgusting. The boy toy had brought out a crazy-driven Charlotte, and now that she was out, who knew what I would do?

Christ, the shit they invented!

Apart from Mason’s act. That had been an act, hadn’t it? Each time I remembered how Mason had touched me, how he had breathed on me, pulled me close, groaned in my ear, a piece of my heart fell away.

When I first bumped into him in Washington, I thought this was his intention, but he had promised it wasn’t. He had proven it—though I knew it was all an act now. He never liked me. He liked money. And since I didn’t shower him with gifts and such, he came up with a new plan.

I shook my head. This couldn’t be true. By everything holy in this life, this couldn’t be true.

My mother turned to me, her eyes fuming. “Is this his name? Mason. Is this the same guy you were with when you came back to the hotel at 5 a.m.? Please, tell me it is, because I can’t deal with it if there are more of your boy toys out there.”

I sob coursed through me. Boy toy. He hadn’t been my boy toy. I liked him too much for that. In fact, I had already passed that phase. I had fallen for him. Now, he was ripping my heart out.

“Only him,” I muttered.

Sarah sneaked into my mother’s office. “Mrs. McClain, I just talked to the security company. They will send more guards immediately.”

Nodding, my mother stopped by the window behind her desk and pushed the curtains half an inch to the side. My curiosity got the best of me and I stood so I could look out too. A swarm of reporters was stationed outside the front gates—and some had tried to climb over the fence around the back, but had been caught and sent to the nearest police station. The reporters and paparazzi kept asking questions to the guards and yelling our names.

“How am I going to fix this?” my mother asked, her voice strained. “Even if we do everything we’re supposed to, it’ll take years for them to forget this.”

For once, she was deluding herself. She knew that they never forgot. Once she started her next campaign, the opposing candidates would dig this out and hang it over her head.

I had no idea how she would fix this, either, and I felt so bad for having caused this. I couldn’t blame her if she hated me right now.

“First things first.” She let go of the curtain and gestured for Sarah to come closer. Her assistant pulled out a notebook and pen, knowing what this meant. “We need to call a press conference. You will tell them how you were tricked. This guy, this scheming and evil man, made you believe he loved you and you, a kind and gracious lady, fell for him. You’ll cry and show them how much you’re hurt.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you serious?”

“Excuse me?”

“I was tricked. I am hurting. Really hurting, and you want me to stand in front of dozens of cameras and microphones and use my feelings to save your face?”

“We need to do anything we can to save both our faces.”

“No, Mother, you’re trying to save yours. Your face, not mine.”

Ignoring me, she continued, “Then, we’ll revise your schedule, Charlotte. For a week, you won’t leave the house and we’ll tell everyone it’s because you’re not feeling well after everything that man did to you. I’ll talk to your professors and you’ll finish the summer semester at home. You’ll lie low on a few events, and I’ll ask Tracy to spend a few days here. It’ll be good for you.”

“If you could, you would just erase all of this, because then your reputation would never be tainted, right? You wish you could have kept a tighter leash. Now, you have a rebellious daughter. God, I feel like Prince Harry.”

Apparently, my mother didn’t know much about sarcasm, because she stared at me with pure rage in her eyes. “Don’t you speak to me like that, Charlotte. We’re in this mess because of you. All of this is on you.”

Now I was the one enraged. Yes, I had screwed up everything, but she could try to be more understanding. I thought Mason had been in love with me too. My heart was breaking. And what was my mother doing? Applying more salt to my wound.

The hole in my chest grew and grew. I was tired of how everything was about her, about how I had to behave for her, on how I had to dress for her, on how I had to look for her, what I had to say for her. I wanted to be my own person, to have my own life, to decide my own future.

I raised my chin and stuffed my chest. “That’s enough. I’m done.”

She stared at me as if I was speaking in riddles. “What are you done with?”

“You.”

A frown wrinkled her forehead. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t do this anymore. You can’t rule me as if I were a slave. I’m a person and I have my own wishes, wishes that you never bothered to learn. Hell, you never bothered to know anything about me.”

“But, Charlotte, everything I do for you, everything I chose for you, it’s in your best interest. I would never do something less than stellar for you.”

I shook my head. “Even now, you don’t get it. It’s not about what you want for me, Mom. It’s about what I want for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte.” She gestured to the newspapers on her desk. “Didn’t you just prove that you can’t decide anything by yourself?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and clenched my fists, counting to twenty, because ten wouldn’t do it. Rage and frustration swam in my veins. “I’m out.”

I turned my back to her and marched to the door.

“Charlotte, what are you doing?” my mother asked, her tone rising a little.

“I’m leaving.”

She gaped at me for a moment. “You can’t do this. Look at the mess you caused. You want to add more wood to the fire?”

I paused. I knew this would make things look worse, but I couldn’t sit here and let my mother rule my life and stomp on my dreams because I had ruined her precious career. Come on! Ruined was too strong of a word. Maybe I had caused a huge bump, but she would survive this. After all, the picture was of me, not her. She could simply spin this story, saying I was crazy and she had tried everything to help me, but I was too far gone. Then she would redeem herself by visiting some mental institutions. Or whatever other insane story her publicists could come up with.

I turned the doorknob. “Goodbye.”

“Charlotte Anne McClain!” she yelled. “If you walk out of that door now, be prepared to never come back!”

I looked at her one more time. She would forgive me someday, even if it was in thirty or forty years, when she was dying of old age.

Taking a deep breath, I walked out of her office.

Chapter Nineteen

Charlotte

I left the Executive Mansion as soon as I finished packing two bags with some clothing and other essential things. It had been a pain to drive by the reporters as they threw themselves over my car, but I had made it. As I expected, I was followed, but nothing that driving around in circles, and entering and exiting interstates didn’t solve.

I drove around until it was late night, then turned on my phone and called the only person I could think of. The hundreds of voice mails didn’t escape me, but I ignored them all, and as soon as my call was over, I turned my phone off again.

Perhaps it wasn’t my wisest decision to date, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go. The two-hour drive to Washington passed in a blur. Numbness and shock still inhabited my senses, and I wasn’t so sure I would ever recover from their marks. Not so soon, at least.

Liana waited for me in front of her house. She opened the garage and I parked my car inside. I felt bad for making her father leave his car in the driveway so I could hide mine, but it was his suggestion since my car was easily recognized.

As soon as I stepped out of my car, Liana brought me in for a bear hug. I sagged in her arms, and the tears I was able to fight until then fell mercilessly.

“It’s going to be okay, hon,” she said, rubbing my back.

She let me cry and snot all over her for what seemed like an eternity. When I finally was able to take a deep breath without tearing up, she brought me inside her house. Her parents were in the kitchen, waiting for me with fresh coffee and chocolate cake.

I smiled and teared up again.

Joan put her arms around me, and guided me to a stool around the kitchen island. She cut me a piece of cake, brought me a mug of coffee, and then sat beside me. Liana sat on the other side. Then the four of us sat there, in silence, for a long time.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Quite the opposite. It was comforting and secure. I knew I was safe here, though they wouldn’t be. If I were discovered, it would end their peace. I couldn’t do that to them.

“Thanks for taking me in,” I said.

“You’re always welcome here,” Joan said.

“I know, but I shouldn’t stay long. The paparazzi might find me here and it’ll be a nightmare for you.”

“We don’t care about that,” Liana’s father said.

I smiled again. “Thanks, but I do. Besides, I have to think about what to do with my life now. Should I stay in the city, move to another state, hide for a few months? And there’s school. I have to decide what to do about it. Drop out? Take a break while I hide? Change maj—”

Joan reached over and squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to decide anything now. Right now, you’re going to go to bed and try to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day and you can start thinking about what you want to do. But no rush, okay? You can stay here as long as you want.”

I knew she really meant that, but I wouldn’t put them in the spotlight too.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a tiny bit better since this mess exploded.

***

Mason

David and I stared at the TV as the reporter showed the latest news: Charlotte driving away from the Executive Mansion. Some tried following her, but she was too smart and drove around until they lost her.

I had called her five hundred times since I saw the newspaper this morning. At first, she didn’t pick up. Now, her phone was turned off and the call went directly to her voice mail.

That didn’t stop me from trying again.

“Hello, this is Charlotte McClain. I can’t answer now. You know what to do. Bye!”

I threw my phone on the floor and punched the coffee table. “Goddammit.”

“Hey!” David interjected. “Please, don’t break our apartment.”

I grunted.

When David got home late this afternoon, he seemed a little wary because of the newspaper story. Of course, he didn’t know the truth, and to him, since they accused me of taking advantage of her for money, he sort of believed it. He was also upset that I had hidden Charlotte’s identity from him, even when he knew she looked familiar.

“I knew I had seen her before. I just had no idea from where,” he said. I knew he would connect the dots sooner or later, but I didn’t think it would be like this. With my name all over the news. “Did you do it?” David asked.

“No!” I shouted. Come on, did he really think I had sent those pictures? “I never cared about her money. She could be penniless and I would still love her.”

He stared at me, appraising me. “Love her?”

I sighed. “Yes. I love her.” I had never said it out loud. In truth, I hadn’t even acknowledged it to myself until now. Now that it was out, I knew I really loved her. “With all my heart and soul.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“No. Now, with this lie spreading, I bet I won’t be able to tell her. I need to fix this shit.”

With nothing else to lose, I sank into the couch and told him everything. About spring break, about finding each other again, how Charlotte resisted at first, but we kept on meeting by chance, like fate. I told him about Donnie Williams and how the guy never left Charlotte alone, about how strict her mother was and she couldn’t break away from it that easily. I also told him about Donnie’s visit.

The reporter kept on talking. “As of right now, Charlotte McClain is in hiding, and the governor is unavailable for interviews. With the rumors of Governor Peyton McClain running for the presidency in the future, we can’t help but wonder what kind of family problems they have and if we should be worried about it.”

Fuck, this wasn’t good.

Charlotte must think the worse of me right now. If only she would turn on her phone and answer one of my calls so I could tell her that it wasn’t me, though I was somewhat guilty.

Shit. Whichever side I took, there was no positive outcome.

I picked up my phone from the floor and stood.

“Where you going?” David asked.

“I don’t know. I wanted to go for a run, to clear my mind, but I bet the press is already after me and it’ll be a matter of time before they hound me.” I sighed. “I guess I’ll just lie in my bed until a way of fixing this shit comes to me.” David frowned with his finger on his chin. His thinking face. “Uh-oh,” I said.

He offered me a sly grin. “I think I know how we can fix this mess.”

What? Hope surged in my chest and I inhaled a deep breath. I sat back on the couch. “Fixing is good. I’m all for fixing. Tell me.”

***

Mason

At 8:30 Tuesday morning, I stepped into the oppressive building David had directed me to and approached the reception desk located on the center of the lobby. I would have come last night, right after my talk with David, but the building would have been closed.

“Good morning,” one of the receptionists said. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to speak to Donnie Williams.”

The lady turned her gaze to the computer’s monitor. “What’s your name?”

“Mason Rowell.”

With wide eyes, she did a double take. Did she recognize me from the pictures? She cleared her throat and stared at her monitor again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rowell, but I don’t see your name here. Do you have an appointment under another name?”

“I don’t have an appointment.”

She frowned. “Then I’m afraid you won’t be able to speak to Mr. Williams today. However, we can schedule something for next week. How is—?”

“Look,” I interrupted her. I made sure to put as much self-confidence in my eyes as I could and stared at her. “Just please tell him Mason Rowell is here. I know he’ll want to speak to me.”

She considered it for a moment, and then she nodded and picked up the phone. “Mr. Williams, I have a walk-in.” She paused. “Yes, sir, I know, but he said you’ll want to talk to him.” She paused again. “But, sir, it’s Mason Rowell.” Another quick pause. “Yes, sir.”

She produced a visitor’s tag from a drawer and gave it to me. “Use this to pass through the security team.” She pointed to my right, where two guards were stationed beside card reading machines, like some sort of checkpoint. “Go to the twentieth floor. Mr. Williams is waiting for you.”

“Thanks.”

I walked to the security team, passed my card through the slot, a green light blinked, and I crossed through the turnstile. The guards didn’t even look my way as walked past them and into one of the elevators.

I pressed the button to the twentieth floor and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I wasn’t nervous per se, more like uneasy. This could go all sorts of wrong.

The elevator door opened, revealing Donnie standing right there.

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone unfriendly.

I stepped out of the elevator and halted two feet from him. I held my head high and my shoulders poised, even though the guy was a couple of inches shorter than I was. Intimidation played a big part.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“We already talked.”

“Not really.”

Reluctantly, he nodded toward the double glass doors and started walking. I followed him through those doors, ignoring the curious stare from the secretary as we walked past her, and inside his large office. Comfortable chairs, a big mahogany desk set against a floor-to-ceiling window, an incredible view of the National Mall a few blocks away, sofa, coffee and end tables, and a bar area. Really? All of this for a guy who was probably what? Twenty-five, twenty-six?

I shook my head as Donnie closed the door.

He walked to his chair behind his desk and gestured for me to take one of the chairs.

I sat down.

“So,” he started.

“So,” I repeated, suddenly confused about how this would go down. “I wanted to talk to you about the deal you offered me the other day.”

“Well, haven’t you seen the pictures everywhere? The deal doesn’t stand anymore.”

“I know, but I want to know why you did it. I didn’t think you would go through with it. When you threatened to send those pictures to the press if I didn’t break up with Charlotte, I honestly thought you wouldn’t do it. After all, you said you like Charlotte. If you like her so much, you wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I didn’t hurt her. You did.”

This guy was getting on my last nerve. “I wasn’t the one who sent the pictures. You did.”

“Does it matter? She thinks it was you and that’s all I needed.”

I shook my head. “How could you hurt her like that?”

“She’ll get over it. I’ll give her a couple of weeks to heal on her own, and then I’ll be there, to help her move on.” He grinned as if he had won the lottery. If he wanted to make me uncomfortable, this wouldn’t work. If he kept this up, he could make me enraged and get a punch in his pretty face.

This guy was pathetic. Did he really believe Charlotte would fall into his arms like that? She didn’t like him. Period.

“You don’t regret sending the pictures to the press?”

“I don’t. Do you regret not taking my deal?”

In a way I did. If I had taken the deal, I would have hurt Charlotte by breaking up with her, but her relationship with her mother would be okay. She would hate me. In the end, I hadn’t taken the deal. Donnie went ahead with his threat and Charlotte was hurting, thinking I was responsible for her pain. She still hated me. Almost the same outcome. Almost.

“Not really.”

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I first thought. You do realize she will move on, right? You’re not her type. She might have lived an adventure with you, but when it comes down to it, she’ll look for a familiar environment. Like money and power.”

I refrained from answering, because I was one hair from clocking his eye. However, in truth, I wasn’t so sure he was wrong. Charlotte might be this happy, lively girl, but she had the other side of the coin. She had money and status behind her. Take that away, would she truly be happy?

Donnie adjusted the tie around his neck. “Anyway, what do you want here? To try to make another deal? I won’t accept anything, unless it’s to pay you to leave the city and never come back.”

Punch line. I wasn’t expecting that part, but it would be a great addition.

I stood. “Well, then I won’t even bother you with details.”

I turned and walked to the door.

“Mr. Rowell,” Donnie called. I halted and looked at him. He had a winning grin intended for me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”

Rage filled my veins and I clenched my fists, holding it all in, before I lunged over his desk and squeezed that stupid smirk from his pompous face.

I nodded, not trusting that I wouldn’t insult him if I opened my mouth and then ruin my plan.

As much as I wanted to run out, I forced myself to walk calmly out of his office, into the elevator, through the lobby, and out of the building.

Then, I didn’t hold back. I exhaled through my mouth and rolled my shoulders. I counted to fifty, thinking of a peaceful beach, the waves breaking on the sand. Charlotte sprawled on a beach blanket, and me seated beside her.

A little better, I fished my phone from my pocket and pressed the big red button on the screen, turning off the recording. Donnie’s reputation was in the palm of my hand, and he didn’t even know it.

Chapter Twenty

Charlotte

Liana and I had barely slept all night. Instead, we lay on her bed and talked. We talked about what happened, about how stupid I was for not suspecting anything, about Mason and how much of a jerk he was, about what I would do with my life from now on.

I had a couple of options. I could face the press and tell them what my mother wanted me to, but not act as innocent and betrayed as she wanted me to, then move on as I wanted. I would apply to another university—and hope there was still time to be accepted since it was the middle of August already—change my major; find an apartment; and find a part-time job, because the money I had in the bank wouldn’t last forever and I was sure, by now, my mother had frozen my trust fund and cut me from our other joint accounts.

Or I could move somewhere else. A small town—far away from here and uninterested in politics. Or move to Europe where no one would know who I was.

I wasn’t ready for all that though. I needed more time. Time to heal, time to think, and time to find my ground again.

In the morning, Liana’s parents went to work, Liana went to one of her classes, and I stayed alone. I moved from Liana’s room to the living room and sank on the couch, hugging a pillow and taking short naps between reruns of Once Upon a Time.

At lunchtime, Liana burst through the front door.

“Charlotte, you won’t believe what just happened.”

I sat straighter, afraid the press had found me, and now they were harassing Liana and her family. “What?”

With her cell phone in her hand, she sat down beside me.

“Don’t panic, okay. Just listen first.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh, Lord. “Tell me.”

“Mason contacted me through Facebook. He said you weren’t answering him anywhere and he had something urgent to show you. I ignored his messages, but then he sent this one.”

She turned her phone to me so I could read it.

Mason: Liana, please. I didn’t send those photos to the press, but I know who did and I can prove it. Please, call me.

A pang stabbed my heart. What now? “Did you answer?”

“Wasn’t going to, but something told me I should. I called him and we met right after my class, just off campus. He had a recording with him and I listened to it.”

“And?”

“He sent it to me through email, and I want you to hear it.” She went to the files in her phone and selected a voice recording. “Are you ready?”

Not really, but I nodded.

She pressed play and I held my breath. Soon, I heard Donnie and Mason’s voices. In a shock, I heard to the entire recording.

Something like anxiety and rage and disappointed and frustration and a whole bunch of other feelings assaulted me.

“Holy crap,” I said shakily.

“I know!” Liana took my hand and steadied it. “It wasn’t Mason! He told me that Donnie discovered you two, had the both of you followed, and then went to Mason and threatened him. He said if Mason didn’t break up with you, Donnie would send those pictures to a newspaper. Mason didn’t believe him because he thought Donnie wouldn’t do that to you, but Donnie did! And you thought it was Mason’s fault.” She smiled at me. “But Mason cares so much about you; he found a way to let you know the truth.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think.

For one, Mason hadn’t accepted the deal with Donnie, and he let Donnie expose us. Sure, if it were me, I would also think Donnie was bluffing. He would never do that to me. But he did. Donnie was the one responsible for this mess. He was the one responsible for damaging my mother’s career.

Not Mason.

Oh, crap, Mason. Relief coursed through me, sending all the hate and pain away. My feelings for him, the ones I had kept locked away since this bomb exploded yesterday morning and thought I would never allow myself to feel again, resurfaced and I welcomed them.

With a tiny smile, I reached for my phone, but then I remembered it was stashed in Liana’s bedroom, turned off since yesterday.

“What are you going to do now?” Liana asked.

I frowned, thinking about it for a moment. “I need to find a way to fix this.”

***

Charlotte

Without wasting time, I called my mother’s assistant and asked her if my mother was having dinner in.

“No, but tomorrow she has a dinner scheduled with Senator Williams,” Sarah said.

“Oh, do you think I could stop by? I need to talk to her.”

“I think so.” She paused. “I know she’s upset but I know she really loves you, in her way. She’ll like it if you two can patch things up.”

That wasn’t exactly my plan.

“All right. I’ll be there,” I said. “Don’t tell her anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Okay. I won’t say anything,” Sarah responded.

Good. Next, I called Donnie and asked him to have dinner tomorrow with my mother and me at the Executive Mansion, if he could.

“For you, I can,” he said, sounding way too happy.

“Great. See you tomorrow.” I turned off the call before he could say anything else and try to keep the conversation going.

The next day, I arrived at the mansion a little past six. Sarah met me at the front door and guided me to the empty dining room, where the table was set for two people.

“Your mother will be here in fifteen minutes,” she said.

I took my usual chair at the table. “Thanks.”

With nothing to do, I looked around the formal dining room. Dark wood floors were polished to a perfect shine, the walls were dull white, big windows were covered with lush curtains, a crystal chandelier hung above the mahogany table, and several chairs with beige velvet cushions were set around the table. A china hutch stood against a wall, showing off all the crystal flutes and glasses, and a few crystal picture frames. My mother behind her desk on the first day as the governor of Virginia, my mother and I at my Sweet Sixteen birthday party—which was exactly how she wanted it, not how I wanted it—my father and her on their wedding day, and one of my father in his military uniform in front of a platoon somewhere in the world. Every picture on display had been carefully selected to show off our happy family and our accomplishments.

The doorbell rang, catching my attention.

Soon, I heard voices. Donnie must have arrived and my mother didn’t even know I was here yet. The voices grew louder until my mother, Donnie, and his father stepped into the dining room. Then silence reigned for a few moments.

“Charlotte,” my mother said my name as in a prayer, and I felt bad for deciding to confront Donnie before her and his father.

I stood. “Hi, Mother. Hello, Senator Williams. Donnie.”

Donnie smiled. “Hi, Charlotte. How are you?”

Not very well. I gestured to the table. “Let’s sit and talk.”

My mother took her usual place at the head of the table. Senator Williams sat across from me, and Donnie sat by my side.

As if on cue, one of the maids appeared with two sets of plates, cutlery, and glasses. Then two other maids brought the food to the table.

When they disappeared into the kitchen, my mother turned to me. “This is a wonderful surprise.”

I wouldn’t let her shift me off track. “We need to talk.”

“Of course,” she said.

“Mom, I want to tell you about me. I like to draw and roller-skate. Tracy isn’t my best friend—Liana is. And MaryAnn and Becca. The three of them are not rich, but they aren’t poor either. Speaking of people without money, I was dating Mason, the guy the newspaper accused of sending those photos.”

My mother cringed. “Charlotte, why are you telling us this?”

“Mason is a simple guy from California, who has little money, and he’s not ashamed of it. I wasn’t ashamed of it.” My mother gasped, but I kept on going, “You also don’t know that Donnie found out about this guy and me. Donnie sent someone to follow me, taking pictures of everything I did, and then he threatened Mason. If Mason didn’t break up with me, Donnie would send the pictures to the newspapers.”

“That’s not true,” Donnie interjected.

I pulled out my phone from inside my purse and put it on the table, in a place everyone would hear it. I pressed play on the voice recording of Donnie talking with Mason about the threat, the blackmail, and the pictures.

My mother gasped, Senator Williams pressed his mouth into a thin line, and Donnie looked everywhere but at me.

“There,” I said, taking my phone back. “It’s all out in the open. You can’t blackmail me or Mason anymore.” I turned to my mother. “And you can stop blaming Mason and me for what happened.”

Surprising me, my mother was the first one to speak. “When we agreed to have Donnie and Charlotte together, I didn’t think you would stoop this low, Senator Williams.”

He shrugged. “I had to do what I had to do.”

A new bomb had been armed. “What?”

My mother looked at me with shielded eyes. “Some time ago, Senator Williams and I agreed that you and Donnie should be together. You could be wonderful together, even if you didn’t want to pursue a political life. You would be the perfect wife for an important politician. We knew this and we knew the entire country couldn’t help but fall in love with you two, leading Donnie to be everything, including president of this country in the future. I thought your relationship with Donnie would happen naturally if he was always by your side, here and at every event we attended, if he asked you out on dates.”

I gaped at Donnie. “You knew of this agreement?”

He nodded. “When they told me, I was all in. Come on. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. If I have to spend the rest of my life with the same woman, you are the perfect candidate.”

“Holy crap,” I muttered, feeling like a used plastic bag.

My mother reached for my hand. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I just wanted what was best for you. I never thought this would happen. I didn’t know what they were doing to keep our agreements.”

I pulled my hand away from her. “I can’t believe this. First, you want me to live a life I don’t like. Please, respect me. Learn to respect me, to respect who I am and what I like. Only this way we’ll be mother and daughter again. And you can start by sending these two out.” I pointed to Donnie and his father.

“Don’t underestimate me, girl,” Senator Williams said, his voice outraged.

I shook my head at him. “I don’t. I knew certain politicians used all the resources available to get what they want. I never thought you would be one of those. Worse of all, you went too far. I won’t let you or your son treat me like a doll that can be bought and used for whatever you like. I have my own dreams, my own path, and I want distance from both of you.”

My mother looked at them, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t do anything. “I lost my husband. I won’t lose my daughter. I’m sorry, Senator Williams, but I need to ask you to leave.”

The man glared at her. “You do know what this means? Our alliance will be compromised. You won’t have my support anymore.”

“And you won’t have mine,” she said. “I’m okay with that.”

Senator Williams punched the table.

“Don’t forget I have this recording,” I said, showing him my phone. “I can send this to the press at any time if you don’t leave us alone.”

With his fists clenched, Senator Williams stood. “You’ll regret this,” he barked. “Let’s go, son.”

With an uncertain frown, Donnie looked at me. “I’m sorry for having hurt you. It wasn’t my intention.” Really? Either way his plan went, I would end up hurt. “I just like you too much and I had to do what I could so I wouldn’t lose you. I hope one day you can forgive me.”

In his dreams.

The men left and I sagged in my chair, feeling as if a thousand-pound boulder had been lifted from my chest.

“Please believe me when I say this, I didn’t know they would go this far,” my mother said. “Though, I still can’t believe Senator Williams and Donnie would do this to us.”

“I know, but I also know that you made this damn agreement with them. You totally ignored me.” I should hate her right now, but she had also been hurt. Her beloved career had been tainted and I had to respect that. I guess we both could sympathize with the situation.

“I’m sorry.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

“I’ll need a little time for that.”

“I understand.” She paused before putting on her business hat again. “We still have a big mess to clean up.”

“Well, if you let me help, I think I have an idea about that.”

She patted my hand. “How about you tell me about it over dinner?”

I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. I needed some time away from her. I wanted distance from everything and everyone. I wanted to dive into a bed, hug a fluffy pillow, and sleep for two weeks at least, while my mind healed of everything I had just learned. I had to figure out who I was and what I wanted without anyone’s influences.

I should go and leave the patching-up for some other day, but the hopeful shine in her eyes melted my resolve.

“All right. We can discuss it over dinner,” I said.

My mother squeezed my hand, and then reached for the wine.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mason

I entered the diner and found David in the same corner booth as two days ago.

“Hey,” he said as I sat across the table from him. “How is work?”

“Good. Had a long meeting this morning about the new bridge project they are trying to snatch.”

“That’s exciting,” he said, looking up from the menu.

True. But having been accepted into an entry engineering job was the only exciting part of my life right now. Classes would start next week and I wasn’t even excited about that. Ever since the big mess with the photos of Charlotte and me two weeks ago, any excitement was gone.

After I had given the recording to Liana, I thought Charlotte would call me and tell me she understood I hadn’t done anything, that she still wanted to be with me. But she didn’t. I called Liana and she said Charlotte needed time.

Time for what? To process the fact that I wasn’t the one to blame?

I sighed. This project could raise my spirits a bit though, and I hoped my company snatched it.

“Are you ordering the usual?” David asked, returning his attention to the menu.

Probably out of pity over my state, David started meeting me for lunch. I guess he just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t become depressed and kill myself. I missed Charlotte; I loved Charlotte. I was dying that she was ignoring me, that this time she needed was taking too long, that maybe the time she needed had become permanent and she didn’t want to talk to me or see me ever again, but I wouldn’t kill myself. David and his paranoia.

“Yes,” I said, checking my phone. No messages, no calls, no emails. Not from Charlotte, at least.

I didn’t know the details, but three days after I gave the recording to Liana, Governor McClain and Senator Williams had an argument during an event, and rumor had it, it was because of Charlotte and Donnie. Two days after that, Charlotte and her mother had a press conference. They explained that a man who worked at the Executive Mansion had snooped through Charlotte’s things and he had been fired. To retaliate, he started following Charlotte and then sent the photos to the press in my name. Of course, the reporters wanted to know who the man was, but the governor said the police were dealing with him now.

Then Charlotte spoke, telling the public about her. She said she loved drawing and roller-skating, that she was applying to art school, though it was probably too late to get in this semester. Reporters asked about me and she said, “I was in love.” As simple as that, and it made my heart beat faster. Right then, I tried calling her. This time, it didn’t even go to the voice mail. It was as if the line had been canceled.

Four days later, Charlotte showed up at a fundraiser with her mother. It seemed the press had forgiven them, especially Charlotte, because being in love explained everything, didn’t it? Well, not to me.

“Earth to Mason.” David snapped his fingers in front of my face.

“Yeah, here. Sorry.”

“Thinking of her again?”

I shrugged. I was saved from saying anything else when the waitress appeared to take our orders.

“So,” David started, and I already knew it wasn’t a good thing. “I have this event on Saturday and I was thinking you could come with me.”

“Event?”

“Yeah. It’s at a museum and it’s probably boring, but there’s a girl who will be there …”

I smiled. “Oh, I see.”

“Yeah. But I didn’t want to be there alone like a lost dog, you know. So, I was thinking, you could come with me, stay for a bit. We can leave soon, or if the stars shine down on me, you can leave alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I laughed.

“All right, since I have nothing better to do, I’ll go with you. But be warned, if it’s too damn boring, I’m out.”

David nodded with a triumphant grin. “Deal.”

***

Charlotte

I fidgeted with the belt over my dress.

Liana slapped my hand. “You’re gonna rip the thing right off.”

“I can’t help it,” I muttered.

My eyes scanned the people walking around the gallery. Well dressed men and women with lots of pocket money. I had asked my mother to keep this quiet, but she insisted on inviting a few good friends—which meant at least a hundred people from the upper class. Whatever. As long as they didn’t behave superior.

Thankfully, there were some people in jeans and sneakers. They were probably residents of the neighborhood who came into the gallery often.

Liana had scored an exhibition in this renowned little gallery, but she gave up half of the space for me. She had invited her teachers and mentors from George Washington University, and she hoped they saw my drawings and paintings and reconsidered my excellent but late application to the program.

She held my hands. “Stop it.”

I hadn’t even noticed I was fidgeting with the belt again. “I can’t help it,” I repeated. “I’m nervous.”

She squeezed my hand. “I know, hon, and I also know that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.”

Two big things were supposed to happen today, but they could go terribly wrong. I couldn’t think about them without my hands shaking and my breathing becoming erratic. So, I just kept my mind blank, and apparently, I played with my belt.

MaryAnn and Becca came back holding two flutes of champagne each.

MaryAnn handed one flute to me. “What will work out the way it’s supposed to?”

Liana took the other flute from Becca. “You’ll see.”

“Uh, enigmatic,” MaryAnn teased before drinking from her champagne.

I stared at the drink. Perhaps it would help with my nerves, but my stomach only tightened with the prospect of having anything in it.

Becca looked at each one of us. “Jeez, tense air. How about you two give us a grand tour, explaining each masterpiece?”

“Boring,” MaryAnn said, dragging out each letter. “I know what isn’t boring. The three cute guys at four o’clock.” She linked her arm to Becca’s. “Come on.”

And out they went.

“Will she ever not be after guys?” I asked, wondering how she had energy to keep up with this kind of life.

“She’ll meet the perfect guy for her one of these days and she’ll settle down,” Liana said, her voice confident.

“I love how positive you always are.”

“Someone has gotta be.” She nudged me with her elbow and I shook my head.

A ball of nerves, I dragged Liana to walk around with me. We were passing by the front door when my mother walked in, followed closely by her assistant.

“Hello, Charlotte,” she said, embracing me.

“Hi, Mom.” I returned the awkward hug, and then gestured to Liana. “You remember my friend.”

“Yes, Liana. Hello, how are you?” My mother smiled at her and I almost let out a sob of happiness.

A few days ago, I had invited my mother and my three best friends to have dinner at my new apartment in Washington so they could meet. Besides the tense air and the refined manner the girls tried to use, it went well. My mother didn’t try to kill them or persuaded me away from them. I guess we were making progress.

Liana nodded. “Hello, Governor McClain, I’m well. Thank you.”

“Oh, please, call me Peyton.” My mother patted Liana’s arm then turned to me. “Now, where are your masterpieces?”

I pointed to an archway to our left. “There.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and brag a little,” she joked. My mother joked! The world was ending.

She waved at us then disappeared through the archway.

I looked at Liana with wide eyes. “I swear, an alien came an abducted my mother. That woman is not Peyton McClain.”

Liana laughed. “Come on, hon. Give her some credit. She said she didn’t want to lose you. She’s trying, and so far she’s doing great.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “She is.”

Liana and I went back to our side of the gallery, mingling and talking to people, explaining our thoughts when drawing this or painting that.

A waiter passed with a tray and I reached for a flute, but Liana stopped me. She held my hand and pulled me back.

“What?”

She was the one looking nervous now. “Don’t panic, but I see two professors, the assistant director, and the director of the arts program.”

“Holy crap.” My palms started sweating almost instantly.

“Act cool, be cool,” Liana said. “They will love the entire collection, you’ll see.”

Liana went ahead to greet them and show them her collection. Meanwhile, I clasped my hands together so I wouldn’t bite my nails or rip the decorative belt from my dress.

She didn’t tell them when she guided them to my collection. I hovered close by, trying to hear whatever they were saying about my paintings, but I only caught a few insignificant words here and there.

Finally, they stopped before the main painting and stared at it in silence for a long time. Behind her back, Liana beckoned me to join them. I took a deep breath and went to her. She linked her arm to mine and pulled me close.

“What do you think?” she asked them.

“The technique is exquisite,” a professor said.

“This is different from the rest of your collection,” the assistant to the director said. “In fact, the last few pieces all are different.”

“It’s because they are not mine,” Liana said with a big smile. “The last few pieces and this one were painted by my good friend, Charlotte McClain.”

My cheeks warmed as four pairs of eyes fell on me. “Hello,” I said and instantly felt lame. Seriously? Hello? That was all I could say? I cleared my throat and prepared to impersonate my mother’s daughter, to make use of my blood and the way I was raised, to woo them with my words.

However, the director spoke first. “Charlotte McClain. I remember your application. Very impressive, just like your paintings in this gallery, but a month late.”

My shoulders sagged. This had been a big waste of time. I would have to stay here and do practically nothing for an entire year other than be active in my mother’s life until I could apply for school again.

“Yes, sorry about that,” I said, wishing I could take it back, that I had never sent that damn application.

“Don’t be sorry,” the director said. “You have the talent and the drive, and it seems you fight for what you want and that’s a great quality.” He stared at the assistant director for a moment, then she nodded and I felt like I was interrupting a private conversation. “Unfortunately, most of our studio classes are full for this semester, but, if you’re willing, you can join the program and start with other core classes.”

My heart stopped and my mouth fell open. Liana squeezed my arm and squealed.

“T-this semester?” I asked.

He nodded. “Starting in one week.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“Do you accept those terms?” the assistant asked.

“Of course I do!”

She smiled. “Congratulations, and welcome to the arts program at George Washington University.”

Liana squealed again and pulled me into a hug. “I told you they would love it.”

I was still in shock and probably imagined the director asking the assistant to see if they could schedule some private studio lessons for me so I wouldn’t miss the most important class of the entire semester.

It was heaven. The big thing I had been dreaming about happened and now I could breathe easier.

When Liana let go of me, the procession had already moved on to the rest of the exhibition.

“We need to celebrate.” She looked around the area. No waiters around. “I’ll go find us some champagne. Be right back.”

She left and I remained in my spot, admiring the main piece of my collection.

My mother stopped by side. “That’s a beautiful painting, Charlotte.” She touched my elbow gently. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“I must go now, get ready for a long dinner meeting.” She let her hand drop and whispered, “Even I hate those.”

I laughed.

Liana came back with two champagne flutes. “Oh, Governor McClain. I mean, Peyton. I didn’t know you were still here. Let me go get another flute.”

“No need,” my mother said. “I’m on my way out. You girls have fun.”

My mother walked away and Liana handed me a flute. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I said before sipping the bubbly liquid.

“Now, we’re only missing the big finale,” she whispered.

I tilted my head. “What if there’s no big finale?”

“I’m sure there will be.” She busied herself by drinking small gulps of her champagne.

“This isn’t a museum.”

I heard a known voice and I turned to it. Dressed in neat jeans and a white shirt with folded sleeves, Mason stood right under the archway dividing my exhibition from the others, just behind David, who was looking at me with a mischievous smile.

Mason’s bright eyes found mine, and his face paled a little. “Oh.”

“Hey, partner in crime,” David said, coming to stand beside me. “Hi, Liana.”

“Wait.” Mason approached us. “What did you do, David?”

“David,” Liana started. “How about we let these two talk?”

He offered his arm to Liana. “Sure. Will you show me your paintings?”

She put her hand in the crook of his arm. “Of course.”

They sauntered away from us, and I felt like digging a hole and disappearing inside it. The way Mason watched us, with a frown and his lips pressed tight, I wasn’t so sure this had been a good idea.

We stood before my painting, one avoiding the eyes of the other for a long time. I drank all of my champagne and willed a waiter to come back and bring more.

I was nervous and I was worried. For days, I had come up with plans on how to reconnect with Mason. Should I call him? Should I appear at his doorstep? Should I hang out outside his new job, wait until he walked out, and pretend it was coincidence? I talked about it with Liana, and she thought I should call him and invite him over. However, each time I held my phone with that purpose, my hands shook and my breathing grew erratic. What if he had moved on? After what happened, it was all in the air. By now, he could have forgotten about me, decided I wasn’t worth it. So many endless possibilities.

“Is this yours?” he asked.

I followed his line of sight. He was looking at the main painting.

“Yes,” I said.

“I … I can make out a man and a woman in those dark splotches.” He pointed his fingers to the right side of the canvas. “And in the background, the grayish, is their profile, right? I can see the pain in their expression, and also the love.” He shifted his gaze to me and I gulped hard. “Are they … people you know?”

I averted my eyes and nodded.

“Can you tell me who are they?” There was something like hope in his tone; it almost burst my heart.

“I can. I’m just afraid to.”

“Why?”

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know exactly. I was afraid that he would say he didn’t like me anymore. It wouldn’t be worse from hoping he still liked me. If he said he didn’t like me now, I would hurt a lot. But, with time, I would heal. I would probably never stop loving him, but I would learn how to live with that, and someday I would love again.

I hoped.

His expression hardened. “So, what am I doing here?”

“I want to apologize. For believing you had sent those pictures to the newspaper, for not answering your calls and messages, for not letting you explain to me what was going on, and for not coming after you right after I knew the truth.” I inhaled deeply. “I wanted to. I really wanted to. I just … I was taking my first steps by myself. I stood up to my mother. I moved out. I was changing majors. I was being myself for the first time in my life. I needed to get to know me before I introduced you again to me. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of.”

“I wanted to call you. I would hold my phone, almost calling you, for over a week, but …”

“But what?”

“I was scared you were mad at me for wanting some time.” I lowered my chin and watched a dark stain on the white floor. “I was scared you had moved on already.”

He stepped closer and my gaze shot to his face. “On TV, you said you were in love with me. Was it true?”

“It is.” Before I could come up with anything else coherent to say, Mason stepped into my personal space, slid his hand around my neck, and leaned down.

“I’m not moving on,” he said, his breath teasing my skin. Then his lips touched mine and I let out a happy sigh. He chuckled before crushing his mouth on mine. I opened my lips, letting his demanding tongue in. I clutched my hands on his hips, trying to steady myself against the heat-slash-desire wave bursting through me.

Someone cleared his or her throat, and we broke up.

“Get a room,” Liana said, walking past us.

My cheeks burned and I put my hands over them.

With a smile, Mason pulled my hands to his chest and kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re so cute when you blush.”

I shook my head and leaned on him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat. He was here, right here with me.

This could only be a dream. My mother and I were getting along without any more lies. We were a far cry from being the perfect mother and daughter, but it was so much easier now. I had been accepted into the arts program in D.C., and now Mason was here with me. It was too perfect to be true, and if it was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

He rested his chin on the top of my head. “It’s us, right?” He gestured to the painting.

“Yes,” I confessed, blushing again.

“I knew it.” He pulled back a little and looked down at me, into my eyes. “I love you, Charlotte, more than anything, more than anyone.”

My heart swelled. I smiled. “I love you too, Mason.”

He kissed me again—a little more chastely this time, since we were in a public place and he probably knew we had all the time in the world to kiss the way he liked to kiss me. A heat wave washed through me, thinking about what was to come. If I didn’t have to stay here for a couple more hours, I would be hauling him to my apartment right now.

Mason held me tight against him. “I’m never letting you go again.”

I snuggled on his arms. “Good, because I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

Acknowledgments:

Writing acknowledgments is getting harder and harder. Hmm, maybe you guys won’t notice if I copy and paste the same acknowledgments from other books. I know, I know … I don’t thank always the same people. Damn it. Gonna have to fix it. ;)

So, let’s see who helped me with this particular book:

First and foremost, thanks to my husband and my daughter, for putting up with me and loving me even when all I want to do is write. I love you both sooooo much!

Thanks, Dani Crabtree, for being an awesome editor, and also a good friend. My books would be a big pile of crap without your help. :)

Thanks, Rebecca Berto, for this super sexy cover. It’s one of my favorites!

Thanks to the early readers and supporters of this story: Jani Grey, Priya Kanaparti, Renita Pizzitola, and Laura Carter. If you guys hadn’t insisted this story was good, it would still be forgotten somewhere in my computer.

And THANK YOU for reading my books!

About the Author:

While Juliana Haygert dreams of being Wonder Woman, Buffy, or a blood elf shadow priest, she settles for the less exciting—but equally gratifying—life as a wife, a mother, and an author. Thousands of miles away from her former home in Brazil, she now resides in Connecticut and spends her days writing about kick-ass heroines and the heroes who drive them crazy.

Visit her at:

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | NA Alley

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Other published books by Juliana Haygert:

The Everlast Trilogy

Destiny Gift (Book 1)

Soul Oath (Book 2)

Cup of Life (Book 2.5)

The Everlasting Circle (Book 3) - coming soon

The Breaking Series

Breaking the Reins (Book 1)

Breaking Fences (Book 2) - coming soon

Novellas

Her Heart’s Secret Wish

His Allure, Her Passion