Ex Games

Taylor, I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything but how furious I am with you and how sorry I am to you. If you want me to admit it, I’m jealous. I am as fucking disgusted as I am jealous that you let him fuck you like that. I want a chance to remind you that I can make you feel better than he does but I know that after what I did to you, you’ll never give me that chance so at least let me know that you don’t hate me. I’m a fucking ball of fury, heartache and regret and I don’t know how to let all those feelings live inside me at once. It fucking hurts Taylor. I fucked up. I’m a coward. That much I know but I’ve made my bed so I’ll sleep in it. Just let me have a good memory of you before you go. Even if none of us mean it inside and we’re all still secretly wishing we could rip each other’s throats out, let’s just fake it. For the sake of the last memories we get of each other, let’s just sit together and talk and pretend we’re okay with each other’s new lives. You don’t have to come to my wedding. I would prefer that you didn’t. But at least see me tomorrow morning. You’ll meet my future wife, I’ll make amends with my brother and then we’ll move on like strangers or at least two people who don’t still love each other. I’m begging you, Taylor. Please.

For the second time, I stared at the text Aaron had sent last night. I laughed as Mason read me the much less dramatic but passive aggressive yet somehow flirty texts Eva had sent him, which included an official invitation to brunch with their friends on the resort’s beachside terrace.

We decided to go.

We were already seconds from going home, so it seemed mostly harmless to stay a couple hours longer and at least try to achieve that moment of peace between the two couples. It was in Mason and my own interest too – to have Aaron out of our hair if we wanted to explore whatever bud of a real romance there was between us. So rather than make toward the helipad, we prepared ourselves for a truce over brunch with the soon-to-be bride and groom.

Mason kissed the back of my neck as he zipped me up into the nude dress he had purchased for me that day we ran into Whitney. Then perched at the edge of the bed, I watched him change freely in front of me, still struck from head to toe by his stone-carved magnificence. Amusingly enough, I wasn’t dreading going to brunch because I didn’t want to see my ex with his model fiancée. I was dreading it because I knew it would be torture for me to sit at least an hour without being able to crawl all over Mason and put my hands all over his body. Judging from how he pushed me against the wall and kissed me hungrily for several minutes before we let the room, he felt the same way.

Now that the seal was broken between us, we couldn’t get enough.

But we had all the time to explore each other once we got back to New York, and knowing that made my heart just about sing. I just needed to survive the next hour or two, and then I could have as much Mason Leo as I could possibly ask for – in my apartment, his apartment, his office, wherever.

And I couldn’t wait.

“Ready to go?” Mason asked, holding the door open for me. I laughed, adjusting the sweetheart neck of my dress and watching his eyes follow me out into the hall.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Chapter Twenty

Considering the mess that was last night at the pool, it was almost hilarious to see all the same faces gathered around brunch this morning in their Sunday best. Rather than swim trunks and string bikinis, there were now linen shirts, pressed white pants and tea-length dresses. Matching were the bride and groom, Aaron wearing a striped pink tie over his white shirt to balance the rosy, crisscross halter dress that Eva wore painted to her lithe body. Her honey-colored hair was neatly pinned into a braided side bun that nicely complemented her razor-sharp jaw as well as the ladylike manners she’d polished for her pre-wedding brunch.

Of course, I saw flashes of that fiery temper she made famous in her viral video trashing Mason’s office. She had been perfectly cordial while greeting us, and even sweet to me by complimenting my dress, but it wasn’t long before Eva was peering over at me with rapidly declining politeness. She tried to hide the first few glances but as the meal went on – especially with Aaron staring at me on her left, and Whitney Decker whispering in her ear on her right – the green-eyed monster inched forward to rear her ugly head.

But it started small.

“Wow. You really finished that fast,” she smiled, interrupting the table’s conversation to point out my empty plate. It would be a possibly harmless remark from someone else, but there was no set of ears at the table that didn’t read between the lines of Eva’s words, especially since she let her gaze fall briefly to my stomach.

But while Mason was more than half to blame for my cleanly finished entree, I said nothing to defend myself. “It was delicious,” I returned her smile, taking a sip of my water. I waited for another remark from her but there was nothing and shortly after, the conversation returned to where the bridesmaids had purchased their dresses. So for the moment, I was in the clear.

“You’re a fucking champ, by the way,” Mason murmured in my ear, a laugh in his voice as he draped his arm over my shoulder. “You deserve a reward for sitting through this.”

“The plane ride home with you is reward enough.”

“I already know exactly what I want to do to you.”

I grinned as I smoothed the napkin on my lap. “You had the time to think about that already?”

“Vividly. Should I kick Sofia and Noah off our flight so we can have some privacy?”

“Maybe.” I slid my eyes across the table to Sofia but instead, I found Aaron. He had a blank look on his face as he watched me try to suppress my giggled. I averted my gaze, eager to be looking at anything else as Mason made me squirm with husky whispers of all the dirty, bad things he had in store for me. “Not now,” I scolded him in a giggle but it was too late – Eva had caught Aaron looking again and with both Leo brothers’ attention rapt on me, she was growing quickly livid.

“I do think it would’ve looked better on you,” she declared, sipping champagne as she stared at me. I was briefly confused until I realized that despite her dark eyes on me, Eva was talking to Whitney. Oh dear God. They were talking about my dress – the one I had been trying on when Mason and I put Whitney in her place. Reaching for Mason’s hand, I squeezed, letting him know that there might be trouble ahead – if not trouble, then at least some considerable bullshit.

“Everything okay?” he murmured under his breath, oblivious to the subtle put-downs slowly coming at me from down the table.

“I’m not sure,” I answered truthfully, waiting for the direct insult to hit. But it didn’t come and I was thankful for it because it wasn’t long before I found myself miraculously laughing in a conversation that included Sofia, Mason and Aaron. The dessert that came out was what sparked the nostalgia – a lemon meringue pie that naturally reminded Sofia of her attempt to make one for Thanksgiving last year. Her hand mixer had broken, so she wound up bringing her giant bowl of egg whites to dinner and passing it between Mason and Aaron to hand whip since they were “the strongest.” Of course, the giant bowl of egg white wound up divided into two – Aaron’s idea so he and Mason could each whip their own and see whose turned into meringue first.

“I think they bet like, one dollar. And Aaron was convinced he was done first even though we all said he wasn’t, so I told him to turn the bowl upside down over his head to test it,” Sofia snorted, preemptively cracking up at what happened next. Even Eva’s lashes were fluttering with curious amusement. She actually looked incredibly sweet when she laughed.

“Then what happened?” she asked.

“God, I don’t know, Aaron, what happened?” Sofia asked with her trademark sass. The entire table looked to him as he covered his face in shame for a second and then laughed.

“I knew I was wrong so I wouldn’t do it. But everyone wanted to test the meringue now, and all the nieces and nephews wanted to see what happened when the bowl got turned upside down, so I had to do it,” Aaron said. Then he grimaced and s

hook his head. “But my mom saw how much I didn’t want to get fucking egged in my nice clothes so she, uh… basically martyred herself and said, ‘Turn the bowl over me.’”