Crashed (Mason Brothers 2)

I pushed my cart against his jean-clad thighs, but he still didn’t move. I pulled my cart back, then rammed it forward harder, hitting his legs. Did he think he could actually scare me?

He finally moved aside, and I moved on down the aisle. “See, this is why I like your brother better than you,” I said. “He doesn’t try to physically intimidate me. Guys who can walk are overrated.”

He walked next to my shoulder, sticking to me like glue. “Are you making fun of him?”

“I’ll mace anyone who makes fun of him,” I replied, picking up a box of Andrew’s favorite whole-grain cereal. “Are we done here?”

“No. You need to get out of his life.”

I obviously wasn’t going to get rid of him, so I sighed. “Why? Do tell.”

“Because you’ll hurt him.”

I turned the corner to the next aisle. “Considering you don’t know me, that’s a far-reaching assumption.”

“Jesus, you even talk like him. Those big words.”

“Which is strange, because apparently you’re the writer of the duo. You could try articulating you

rself beyond growly threats to strange women in grocery stores.” I paused as a thought hit me. “Wait a minute. Why did you follow me to the grocery store? You know where I live.” I stopped my cart and put a hand on my hip. “It’s because if you came to my front door, Andrew would see you on his security camera. Right? You don’t want him to know you talked to me.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t deny it. I could feel the tension coming off him in waves. I was pissing him off, which pleased me. If he thought I would play the demure, sweet girl, he was wrong. I turned and pushed my cart again.

“I am not threatening you,” he said after a minute. He was still walking at my shoulder as I shopped.

“Oh?” I said. “And what will happen if I don’t get out of Andrew’s life? You’ll send me a strongly worded email?”

“Listen,” Nick said. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with here. You don’t understand my brother.”

“I understand him pretty well, actually.” Including how he kisses and his favorite sexual positions, I thought. But I didn’t say it, because it was none of Nick’s business.

“Andrew isn’t like other guys.”

“That’s why I like him.”

“You still don’t get it. He isn’t just some Tinder dude you can date and then dump when you’re bored. He doesn’t play the dating game. If you dump him, you’ll mess him up.”

“And who says I’m going to dump him?”

Nick snorted. “So you’re in this for a long-term relationship? You want to marry him?”

“It’s none of your business what I want,” I snapped. “Besides, maybe Andrew doesn’t want a long-term relationship. Maybe he’ll be the one to dump me.”

I sounded snarky, but it was a cover. Andrew might want to dump me after a while. He was grumpy and independent and used to being on his own. Once the glow of sex wore off, would I just be in the way?

And then what? I was supposed to live across the street from the guy who caved my heart in? Because—I already knew it—I was attached. Andrew meant more to me than anyone else ever had. I didn’t want to think about him dumping me.

“Does he know what you do for a living?” Nick asked as I put my groceries on the checkout belt.

Nick had Googled me, obviously. “Of course he does,” I said. “And he likes it.”

“I’ll bet,” Nick said.

I rolled my eyes. “Shame me if you want, but I happen to know you don’t have a job, either. And you never have. You’re even more useless than I am.”

“You model lingerie for a living,” he growled.

I didn’t, actually. Not anymore. I wasn’t going to take any more modeling gigs, even if they came my way, and sitting on the passenger seat of my car was the stack of papers I had to go through to apply for nursing school. I was going to do something useful, even if Andrew’s brother—and mother—thought I was a tramp. “So what?” I said to Nick.