“It has been a long time,” she said wistfully, and Mason thought for sure he’d managed to hook her until she followed that up with, “But I can’t tonight. I already have plans.”
Her reply was frustratingly vague, when she never used to hesitate to share specific details with him. He waited a few seconds, and when she didn’t elaborate as he hoped, he pushed for an answer.
“What kind of plans?” He wanted to know what was more important than spending time with him. Or maybe it was just an excuse not to be alone with him. Whatever the case, he wanted an answer. “What are you doing?”
She hesitated, her teeth grazing her bottom lip in a nervous gesture before she replied. “Well . . . I’m going to dinner with Blake Cavanaugh.”
Her unexpected answer felt like a sucker punch right to the stomach, and it took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to roar like a fucking caveman and drag Katrina off to his office by the hair like said Neanderthal and show her who she belonged to.
Jesus Christ, possessive much? Apparently, when it came to Katrina, he was battling a strong urge to stake his claim, when he had no right to do so.
More calmly than the emotions rioting inside him, he spoke again, “You’re going on a date with the guy?” The question scraped across his throat like a sharp knife.
“It’s just dinner,” she said, as if it was no big deal.
Dinner . . . and then what? Mason wondered. Back to Katrina’s place for a nightcap and . . . Fuck, fuck, fuck, he couldn’t even think of another man touching her without coming unhinged.
“You’ve spent the past year turning him down,” he said, amazed that his voice actually sounded normal. “What changed?”
She sighed softly and tucked the purple ends of her blonde hair behind an ear, which gave him a better view of her beautiful face and the discomfort he saw there. “He’s a really nice guy, so why not?”
Mason could give her a dozen reasons why not, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate his answers: Because no one will fuck you as well as I do . . .because Cavanaugh has no clue how special you are . . . because you’re mine and I can’t bear to lose you to another man.
Yeah, that last one made his goddamn heart hurt.
He didn’t want any other man to have her, but Mason flat-out didn’t have what it took to be the kind of man Katrina needed and deserved. And his biggest fear was that someday she’d realize that, even as a friend, Mason wasn’t worth her while. That had been a familiar pattern in his youth—a mother who didn’t give a shit and chose drugs over her kids, a father who didn’t even know he existed, teachers who never tried to understand the source of his belligerent attitude and instead wrote him off as a loser. Which had only pushed him to be even more of a delinquent, because why the hell not? He’d had absolutely nothing to lose.
A part of him even knew that those doubts about himself were the reason he didn’t let his relationships last longer than a one-night stand. If he didn’t let anyone close enough to affect his feelings—Katrina being the one exception—there was no risk of rejection. His detached attitude had always served him well and kept his emotions isolated. Other than his brothers, Katrina was the one person he’d allowed himself to care for, and if he couldn’t give her all of himself, did he really have the right to stand in her way of finding that with someone else?
Jesus, his stomach churned and he seriously felt as though he was going to throw up. Because he knew the answer to that question, and he had to stop being a selfish asshole when it came to her. And that meant he needed to face the reality of Katrina moving on with another man who wasn’t as screwed up as he was, and who would love her wholeheartedly and without any fears or reservations.
“You’re right,” he finally said, even as everything within him rebelled at his acceptance of the situation. “Blake is a nice guy. Have a good time on your date.”
And then Mason walked away while trying to convince himself that he’d done the right thing for Katrina, even if it felt so damn wrong.
* * *
Katrina pulled her iridescent purple Volkswagen Beetle into a just-vacated parking spot on the street near Antico, a higher-end Italian restaurant in Bucktown, where she was meeting Blake Cavanaugh. Part of her stipulation for having dinner with him was that she drove her own car and met him at the restaurant so that they could leave separately, as well. Mason might be under the impression that she was out on a date tonight, but that wasn’t the case at all.
She’d agreed to see Blake after hours for one reason only, and that’s because he’d said he had a business proposition to present to her, and she was curious enough to find out what that proposal entailed. She’d already made the difficult decision to find another job, and she was actively looking and keeping her prospects open while training Jasmine at Inked to take on more responsibilities so it would be a smoother transition when Katrina left.
Enduring Mason’s presence every single day, for up to ten hours, was taking its toll. Emotionally, her heart ached in a way she’d never experienced before. She knew in order to save their friendship, she needed space because it was just too hard and painful to watch every move he made at the shop, along with watching him flirt with women on a regular basis. The jealousy would eventually eat her alive.
Bottom line, she couldn’t move on with her life the way she needed to with the way things currently were. And especially after the weekend she’d spent with Mason in Vegas. Those two nights had changed everything for her, and nothing for him. Then again, he hadn’t made her any promises, and she’d known up front that’s how he operated when it came to women and sex. But that knowledge didn’t make what she felt for Mason any less painful.
Pushing thoughts of Mason from her mind so she could focus on Blake’s proposition, whatever it might be, she got out of her car, engaged the alarm, and made her way across the street. She’d gone home after work and changed into a nice pair of black cigarette pants and a dark purple off-the-shoulder blouse that matched the highlights in her hair, and a funky pair of heeled pumps that looked as though someone had spattered them with purple paint. The outfit was nicer than the casual attire she wore at Inked, and more appropriate for what Katrina considered a business dinner—not a date.
When she reached Antico, she found Blake waiting outside for her.
His appreciative gaze took in her changed appearance, and he grinned. “Wow, I thought you looked great today, but tonight, you look stunning.”
She smiled and accepted the compliment gracefully. “Thank you.”
Despite her being all about business tonight, she knew Blake would try and mix in a bit of pleasure. He’d been very clear about his romantic interest in her, and the man was charming and persuasive, but Katrina was determined to keep things professional.
As they walked into the restaurant, she noticed that he’d gone home and changed, too. He now wore a pair of black slacks and a dark gray long-sleeved dress shirt. He’d forgone a tie and suit jacket, and while he looked much more casual, there was no mistaking that this man still had the ability to command whatever room he walked into. He just had that kind of self-assured presence.
On the outside, he was a clean-cut, good-looking man with chiseled features and dark brown eyes that shone with confidence and intell