“Can I have my phone back, please? I need to go.”
On cue, the doorbell rang, and Mason rose from the table and collected Edith’s plate and glass to take them to the kitchen. With Jude’s help, Edith stood, and together they made their way to the door.
“Lorna, Ginny, Della,” Jude greeted her friends, stepping aside. “Nice to see you again. Have a great evening, ladies.”
And he escaped. Finally. He’d almost made it inside his apartment when he heard his name called.
“Jude. Hold up.”
Not likely. He shut the door, but then the doorbell rang. Over and over. And when he ignored that, the knocking commenced, interspersed with the bell ringing. Other people might not have been able to ignore it, but Jude had no problem with that. He entered his bedroom, undressed, and took a shower.
Feeling clean and cool after his shower, Jude smiled with satisfaction when he stuck his head out of the en suite bathroom and heard only silence. The idiot must’ve finally gotten the message and left. He put on a T-shirt and a pair of boxers and went into the living room.
Where Mason was lying on his sofa, watching something on his phone.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jude roared. “How did you get in?”
A smile of triumph curved Mason’s lips, revealing twin dimples. “Hi. I returned to Edith and told her I left my wallet in your apartment and that you were in the shower.” Mason held up the spare key Jude had given Edith a year ago. He’d forgotten about it, but apparently Edith hadn’t.
“She had no right to just give you the key,” Jude grumbled.
“Well, you should’ve let me inside and not acted like a child.” Mason swung his legs to the floor and stood, facing him.
“I didn’t act like a child. I have nothing to say to you.” Jude turned away from Mason and walked to the kitchen, where he grabbed a tumbler, filled it with ice, and splashed a double Scotch into the glass.
“Well, maybe I want to talk.” Arms folded, Mason leaned on the counter.
“About what?” He gripped his drink and downed half of it, letting it warm him.
“About why you’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not.” Jude gave Mason his back and retraced his steps to the couch, where he took a seat.
“You so are. And now you’re running away.” Mason sat at the opposite end.
“I don’t run away from you or anyone.” He was more upset and hurt that he hadn’t heard from Ilana and Mason had spoken to her.
Mason snorted. “You’re embarrassed because of those pictures.”
His fingers tightened on the glass. “Pictures?” At the rise of Mason’s brow, Jude gripped his glass harder and let out a weak laugh. “Oh, those. No. It was a mistake. I’d already forgotten it.”
Mason’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, me too.”
“I’m sure you did. You and your date looked like you had fun last night.”
Surprise lit Mason’s eyes. “How would you know?” His mouth fell open. “Were you stalking my Instagram?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jude snapped, then caught himself. “I saw you commented on Doug’s post and got a notification when you tagged The Company.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Screw you.”
“I think you already did that.” He crossed his arms, a wicked grin teasing his lips. “Looking for another round?”
Jude’s stomach tumbled as the blood rushed to his head.
Goddamn him.
