“What?” he huffs.
I shake my head, blinking in surprise. “You didn’t say please,” I say, looking at Vinny. His eyes are wide as he stares straight ahead.
I shrink back a little.
“Excuse me?” Mason shoots back.
Crap. I have to follow through. I can’t back down now. “You didn’t say please when you asked Vinny to pick you up. Some manners wouldn’t hurt, you know, and if having someone drive me home is such an inconvenience to you, don’t do it.” I keep my voice steady, making sure I get my point across. At no point have I asked Mason to go out of his way for me.
I sit back in my seat, and the car goes dead fucking silent, no one saying a word for what feels like forever.
I’m waiting for him to flip.
Or hang up.
Vinny lifts his hand to end the call.
“I will see you soon, Vinny, thank you,” he replies.
My head flicks around to Vinny in shock, his face mirroring mine.
“Mason?” I murmur with a slight teasing in my tone.
“Yes, Nina,” he sighs, addressing me for the first time.
My dimple creases my cheek. “Thank you for the lift home. I didn’t want to walk alone this late. I really do hope you have a better evening,” I say softly.
I end the call, sitting back in the seat as I process the last few minutes in my head.
Maybe I should have sat back and said nothing, but manners are free, and he is lacking.
“Put your seat belt back on, Nina,” Vinny tells me, his voice quiet.
The rest of the ride home is made in silence.
6
Nina
The shrill soundof my doorbell has me freezing in the shower mid hair wash. I’m not usually a jumpy person, but it’s always in the shower that my apartment seems to come to life. I start to wash the shampoo from my hair double time, the bell ringing again, more violently than the first time. Not bothering to use any conditioner, I snatch my towel from the floor and wrap it around my body before I rush from the bathroom, my feet leaving puddles in their wake.
I pull open the door just an inch to see who it is.
A delivery man is standing with a long rectangular box in his hand. He thrusts it through the small gap in a rush, making the door bounce back into my forehead.
Ouch!
“Can you sign here?” he huffs.
I try to hold my towel, the box and the pen, but it’s a task. I’m sure by the time I kick the door closed, he has probably seen my nipple. Not that the impatient jerk deserved the extra tip, he could see I was fresh from the shower.
Pulling my towel tight, I scurry to the sofa and sit down with the box. It’s matte black with gold foiling decorating it in deep swirls. Sliding off the lid, I find a single white rose nestled in the silk lining. I can’t help my smile. It’s a goofy, all-teeth kind of smile that you hope no one ever sees.
One lone rose.
It’s beautiful in its simplicity, and I knowexactlywho it’s from. Slipping the note from the box, I stare at it.
It’s from Mason, I’m sure of it. But something nags at my gut as I peel back the seal.
