“Doesn’t excuse what he—”
“He doesn’t remember,” I force out before Mason can interrupt me again.
His head drops back on a long groan. “Convenient excuse. Can’t believe you bought that crap.”
I reach out and grab both his hands. They haven’t lost the rough calluses built up from years of playing baseball.
“Jordan doesn’t remember what he did that night because he was drunk. I should have recognized the signs. The way all his words slurred together. His stumbling when he walked. Every beer he ordered and chugged down like water. I was too enamored. Too young and inexperienced. Too caught up in him because he was finally paying attention to me. I should have seen it and done something. Helped him.” Licking my suddenly dry lips, I look into Mason’s handsome face, imploring him to understand. “Jordan and I talked. He read my journal. He knows everything now.”
Mason’s gaze seeks out the scar on my wrist.
“Everything,” I reiterate. “He’s been trying so hard to make amends for what happened. Something he doesn’t even remember doing. I forgave him. I love him, Mason. He said he loves me, too. I want this. Him. So, as my friend, even if you think I’m making a horrible mistake, support me on this.”
Mason looks down at our joined hands and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. “He said he loves you?”
My chest swells when I suck in a rush of air. “Yes.”
He’s quiet for several seconds, and my heart thunders inside my chest, hammering faster and faster as each second passes.
“He breaks your heart again, I’m going to kick his ass.”
Every molecule of air bursts out of my lungs in a torrent. “If he breaks my heart, I’ll provide you with the shit-kicker boot to do it with. Steel-toed too.”
His boyish grin is infectious, and my smile joins his. Mason suddenly tightens his grasp and gets up off the lounger, yanking me up with him.
“Mason, don’t you dare,” I warn as his footsteps retreat backward toward the pool.
His Joker grin gives away his intentions.
“Don’t you dare!” I squeal just as he lifts me up and jumps into the frigid pool water.
Chapter 47
Grabbing the tongs, I lift the lid to the gas grill and flip the burgers, plating the two that are medium well. The rest will stay in until they’re well done, or in Harper’s case, burned to a crisp. She won’t eat beef unless it’s been charred black and cooked as dry as the Sahara.
As if being pulled by a magnetic force, my eyes find Douglass in the middle of the group of people currently taking up residence on my back patio. And just like every other time my eyes have landed on her tonight, my dick pulses with need when she flips her wavy hair over her shoulder and laughs at something Bennett says.
She left her hair down tonight in soft waves, and the wrap skirt and pink blouse she’s wearing show off every curve of her mouth-watering body. I’ve got plans for that skirt tonight.
“Who’s the goth chick?” Mike asks, grabbing a soda from the outdoor kitchen mini fridge and popping the tab. He leans forward over the granite prep station, head nodding to the beat of the rock music playing from the outdoor speakers.
“If you mean the woman with the pink hair, that’s Harper’s new assistant at the gallery, and no, you cannot sleep with her.”
He side-eyes me and gives me the middle finger.
Deciding the burgers are well done enough, I turn the knob to cut off the gas, transfer them to a large oval plate, and cover it with aluminum foil to keep them warm.
“Hey, thanks for helping Douglass yesterday and fixing Nat’s steps.”
“No thanks needed,” he replies like it’s no big deal, because for him, it isn’t.
That’s how solid our friendship is. If one of us needs help or a helping hand, the other is right there to give it, no questions asked.
“If you want my honest opinion—thank you for asking—I’d highly suggest hiring a professional contractor because that place needs a lot more work than we’ll be able to do ourselves. The window trims and sills are saturated with black mold, and it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s mold in the walls as well. The roof is shot, there’re major cracks in the foundation, and termite damage, which is what caused the steps to deteriorate. The entire house should be inspected to make sure the frame and structure haven’t been damaged as well. And I didn’t even see the inside, but from what Douglass told me, it’s falling apart.”
“She and I have spent the last two weeks fixing up the inside.”
“That’s all cosmetic stuff. I’m talking about major repairs that will take time.”
