The epithet wrapped itself around my chest like ribbon, making it hard to breathe. I took a tentative step toward him. “Can I have a hug?”
Mason’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Of course.”
He wrapped his arms around me, cupping the back of my head with his palm. I pressed my nose to his throat. He smelled good, like pine and cloves and peppermint, just as I remembered.
“I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered into my hair.
I couldn’t help chuckling at his mindreading abilities. I angled my mouth toward his cheek, intending to give him a quick peck. He must’ve had the same idea, because when I turned my face, our lips met.
The room held its breath. My eyes drifted shut as my fingers closed around his shirt collar. His stubble tickled my chin. Every inch of me tingled as tension gathered in my stomach, sliding low, then lower, between my legs.
A voice inside my head shouted, stop. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a misfire, bad wiring, mistaken identity. My thoughts sprinted alongside my pulse, trying to make sense of my misplaced desire.
Plenty of parents kiss their children on the mouth, I told myself. It wasn’t inherently sexual. Mason hadn’t been a father to me since I was twelve, but he’d played the role long enough that my body should’ve known better.
I drew back. Mason’s eyes snapped open, taking in my darting gaze. Mortified, I let my feet carry me back to the bed where I forced my hands to start unpacking.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to... It was an accident.”
When I could no longer stand the heat of his stare on my back, I spun to face him.
“Would you please say something—”
There was no one else in the room.
Chapter Four
My mind swam as I sat on the bed and touched my fingers to my lips. It was only a kiss. Accidental and embarrassing, sure, but it could’ve happened with anyone.
I needed to believe that.
The intercom buzzed in the living room. Mason’s shoes thudded down the stairs. There came another buzz, the squeal and bang of the door as it opened and closed, then silence, loud and accusatory.
I sat there, unmoving, until I couldn’t take the stillness any longer. With twitchy hands, I unpacked my toiletries and clothes before venturing out to explore the rest of the apartment.
Downstairs, the kitchen was fully stocked with food and flavored seltzer. I used to drink lemon and lime seltzer as a kid. I wondered if Mason had started drinking it after he left, or if he’d bought them just for my visit. I tried to watch TV but nothing held my interest.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss.
The sun was halfway to setting when I heard a woman’s laughter on the other side of the door. Curious, I got up to investigate.
Easing the door open a couple of inches, I peered into the hall. Mason stood by the elevator, across from a dark-skinned woman with enviable curves. Her voice dripped with affection when she said his name.
Jealousy, sharp and inexplicable, flared in my gut. Mason was a handsome man, and she was obviously an attractive woman. Who was I to begrudge them a flirtation, or anything else?
I forced myself to return to the couch.
Mason sauntered in shortly after and sat in one of the recliners. I pretended to be riveted by the selecti
on of on-demand movies.
“Sorry that took longer than expected,” he said. “I’m starting a new piece and the planning always takes twice as long as the painting. I hope you weren’t too bored.”
“I’m fine.” I fiddled with the volume settings and pleaded with my voice to sound less pained. “Who was she?”
“My model,” he said. “Her name’s Krista. I’ll introduce you next time.”
I looked at him and then had to look away. He was assessing me again, his gaze penetrating my strained veneer of calm.