I shut the door quietly behind me and clenched my jaw.Damn it.
“Mia!” Melissa whisper-yelled. The moonlight flooded in through the curtains, hitting her face. Serena was in the bed with her, eyes closed, lips parted. “Where were you?”
I padded into the room, my heart pounding against my chest. What the hell did I say to her? That every part of my body had been craving her father’s touch since the moment I had laid eyes on him yesterday evening and that it had finally happened tonight? That Mr. Bryne had fucked me hard and fast and—
“Mia?” Melissa sat up. “Are you okay?”
“I, um … wasn’t feeling too good.” I climbed onto the couch and lay down on my side, facing away from the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I had a stomach ache.” I tugged my knees to my chest and rolled my eyes. “I needed some fresh air.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I took a deep breath, so I wouldn’t flip out on her and closed my eyes. “Yes, Melissa.”
The bed shifted, and she lay back down. I sank into the couch, feeling more satisfied than I ever had in my entire life. But then … then it really settled in. I’d had sex with Mr. Bryne. I’d had sex with my best friend’s father. I had Mason.
My mind had been fogged with so much lust that I … I … cheated. My heart ached, and I held myself tighter, wishing that I could be in the arms of someone who would comfort me. But like it hadn’t happened the other night with Mason, it wouldn’t happen tonight with Mr. Bryne.
No matter how much I tried to think that I’d do things differently if I had the chance, I knew that I wouldn’t. Mr. Bryne had actually wanted to please me tonight. He made sure I came over and over and over again, didn’t stop until I lay on top of him, my chest heaving up and down, completely and utterly satisfied.
And that only made the guilt even more unbearable.
I had done the one thing that I’d sworn I’d never do. I had become like my father.
The next morning,I avoided Mr. Bryne by waking up super early and making an excuse that I felt sick, so sick that I had to go back home to Mason’s immediately. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Mr. Bryne; it was that I knew if I did see him … I’d feel even guiltier.
So, I had snuck back into the apartment without Mason waking up, then when he finally had, he drove us to Oranegate Assisted Living to see Mom. I hopped out of Mason’s Benz and grabbed his hand, walking toward the entrance. While there were a lot of shitty things about Mason, this was his most redeeming quality. He cared enough for Mom that he paid my mother’s way here with his parents’ money.
The automatic sliding doors opened, and Mason led the way into the building. Susan, the receptionist, smiled at us when we walked into the room.
“Your mother is waiting in her room,” she said.
I wrote our names on two name tags and signed into the facility. Mom had lived here since her brain aneurysm four years ago. She refused to let me drop out of college to take care of her back home, telling me that I should live my life, get a job and an education, be free and independent—even if it was just for four years.
When I put the pen down, Susan took my hand. “She’s not doing good today. Physical therapy was difficult for her, and … and she needs a good smile.”
Mason snatched my hand and pulled me down the hallway toward Mom’s room. The light in her room was off, but her television was on, playing a rerun ofFull House.
Mason knocked on the door and tugged me into the room, turning the light on. “Ms. Stevenson?”
“Mason, is that you?” she asked, squinting. She lay in the bed, her brown hair looking like it hadn’t been brushed all weekend, her bright brown eyes wide in delight.
I sighed and closed the door behind us, grabbing her comb from the counter. “Mom, are they taking care of you here?”
She maneuvered herself into a sitting position with her arms and plastered a smile on her face, giving me that look she always did right before she told me, “It’s fine, sweetheart. They’re treating me great.”
Mason took the comb from me and gestured to Mom to sit up even more. He sat behind her, glancing at me. I could tell by the look on his face that he actually agreed with me for once that they weren’t taking good enough care of her.
He pushed it through her hair carefully. “I can find you a place that treats you better, Ms. S.”
Mom laughed, and I almost rolled my eyes. Jeez, they got along better than we did.
She smiled weakly at the ground. “Don’t be silly. You’ve done too much for me and Mia. This”—she gestured to the room around us—“and having Mia stay with you while I’m here … it’s more than I could ask for.”
I frowned, wrapping my arms around my body and staring at the ground. A rush of guilt washed over me as I thought about what I had done this past weekend with Mr. Bryne. If Mom found out about it … hell, if she found out that Mason and I had been …fighting—and I said that lightly because it wasn’t really fighting, more like annoying the living daylights out of each other—she wouldn’t be happy. She’d worry, and I didn’t need her worrying at all.
