He doesn’t look at me. His eyes flick toward a table near the front window.
“That’s my ex,” he says softly. “My first real girlfriend.”
I follow his gaze.
A girl with perfectly curled hair, bright lip gloss, and an outfit that screamsI peaked in high school but refuse to acknowledge it.She’s laughing with two friends, leaning back like she owns the place.
Not Royal Oaks, but definitely the same species.
Mason exhales. “She cheated on me last year. Some guy she met at a summer job. But before that? She… always kind of talked down to me. You know. Because I was the ‘fat kid’ back then.”
Something tightens in my chest.
He gives his head a little shake and whispers, “Do me a favor? Just roll with it. Please.”
Before I can ask what the hell that means, he steps closer, puts his cup half in front of my face, leans down, and whispers?—
“Pretend to be my girl. Just for a minute. I know you get what this feels like.”
I blink.
Then the ex spots him.
“Mason!” she singsongs, standing up with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “Oh my gosh! Hiiii!”
He tenses. “Kristen.”
She looks at me immediately.
Sizing me up.
Head to toe.
Twice.
Fake smile tightening at the edges.
I feel Mason shrink a little next to me. The easygoing guy I met yesterday suddenly looks like a kid bracing for a punch.
And something in me refuses to let that stand.
If I’m going to rebuild myself, maybe I start with acting.
So I slide my arm through his and curl into his side like I was born confident.
“Mason, babe,” I purr, batting my lashes. “Who’s this?”
The ex’s mouth drops just a bit.
Mason recovers fast, looping an arm around my waist. “Uh—my ex,” he says, nodding at her. “And you… you’re the upgrade, babe.”
Then—
before I can prepare?—
he kisses me.
On the lips.
