Page 16 of Rival for Rent
Because the house belonged to Dana, it didn’t have a regular doorbell. Of course not. Dana’s doorbell sounded like an ice cream truck playing Christmas songs in a minor key. It gave me the heebie-jeebies every time I heard it.
It was only—what, 8:30? Not exactly prime visitor hours. Probably a package delivery. Not wanting to give them a reason to ring it again, I headed for the front of the house, but before I’d made it halfway there, the door creaked open, and Amir’s voice called out, “Anyone home?”
“Back here,” Dana answered from the kitchen.
Amir met me in the dining room, and the look he shot me was anything but innocent. He grinned like it was his birthday and someone had bought him a pony—or maybe a stripper dressed like a pony.
“Somebody’s in trooouuble,” he sang.
“Tell me about it,” I said, leading him back to the kitchen.
I reached up and pulled down a third mug—this one shaped like a napping Arctic fox—and filled it up. Dana collected coffee mugs like some people collected parking tickets: obsessively, and with no visible shame.
“Ooh, coffee,” Amir said, taking it from me with grateful eyes. Then he grabbed one of the cinnamon rolls cooling on the wire rack, popped a piece in his mouth, and gave me a flirtatious flutter of his lashes. “And you baked? Darling, you shouldn’t have. Not for me, anyway. It’s Kai you need to suck up to.”
Dana shot him a look. “Did you know Mason and I knew Kai Jacinto?” she asked. “Is that why you recommended us to him?”
Amir, mid-chew, shoved another bite of cinnamon roll in his mouth, buying himself a few seconds.
“No idea. I swear. But damn.” He gave me a long, deliberate look. “Kai waspissedthis morning that I didn’t mention your name when I recommended you guys. What the hell did you do to him?”
“Nothing!” I gestured a little too hard and coffee sloshed out of my mug and onto my wrist. I licked at it awkwardly. “Not last night anyway. Not ever. But he acted like I’d murdered his parents or something. It was weird.”
“Are you serious?” Dana asked, raising a brow. She set her coffee down and reached for a cinnamon roll of her own, peeling off the outer edge like it was a fruit roll-up before pinching a piece into her mouth.
“Um, yeah?” I folded my arms across my chest, managing not to spill anything this time. I didn’t like the look she was giving me. “Why?”
“Because you made his life a living hell in high school. No wonder he wasn’t happy to see you.”
“I did not,” I said. “That’s ridiculous.”
Dana arched an eyebrow. “It’s the truth. Mason, I was there. I saw it. You can’t deny it. You were a dick to him for four years. More, if you count middle school.”
“I’m not denying it,” I said, my chest growing hot and tight. “I just—I mean, we weren’t close or anything, but you’re making it sound like I went out of my way to hurt him.”
She looked incredulous. “Mason, you did. Maybe it wasn’t always you personally. But the guys on the football team—Alex and Tyrell and Ravi? They would’ve done anything you told them to. And everyone knew you didn’t like Kai. Do you seriously not remember?”
I flushed. Dana looked completely serious, and I had no reason to doubt her. But when I tried to think back to high school, it was like trying to tune a static-filled radio station. Random scenes, a few whole days, maybe. But most of those years were a blur. I remembered emotions more than details—confusion, pressure, a constant ache I couldn’t identify.
I’d never been good in school, but sports had always given me something to hold onto. If you were athletic and good-looking—and yeah, I wasn’t going to lie to myself about that—people treated you like you mattered. Or at least, they pretended to. But when I thought about the guys I’d spent all that time with, my supposed best friends, all I felt was loneliness.
That’s what most of high school felt like to me. I’d been there, but notthere. Physically present, but emotionally disconnected.
And Kai… Kai hovered at the edges of those memories. We didn’t share classes, but somehow, he was still in so many of my mental snapshots. I remembered his eyes—dark, intense. Like he was always watching me.
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” I asked quietly.
Dana didn’t hesitate. “Mason, I used to lie and tell people I was adopted so they wouldn’t think I was related to you.”
That hit like a slap. I winced. “Really?”
We were twins. Different, sure, but we were supposed to have each other’s backs. I always had hers.
“I mean, it didn’t work.” She gave a humorless laugh. “But I tried for a couple years. I even went to Kai and apologized for you. Told him I’d try to get you to stop. He begged me not to. Said it’d only make things worse.”
I stared at her, heart sinking.
“But that’s not—I would’ve stopped,” I said. “If I’d known how much he disliked me.”
