Page 22 of Rival for Rent
“Did you really not know?” I tilted my head, watching him stumble away.
It seemed impossible. I’d been a walking stereotype in high school—best friends with girls, theater nerd, absolute dogshit at any and all sports. I once tripped over my own feet during a game of freeze tag.
“I really, really didn’t,” he said. His voice was a little breathless, like I’d actually scared him.
“Then why the hell were you such a dick to me?”
He hit the kitchen island, looked over his shoulder, then whipped his head back at me like I might have materialized right in front of him. When he saw I was still halfway across the room, he glanced towards the front door, clearly gauging his escape route.
He ran a hand through his hair. It was loose tonight, falling in a messy halo of blond around his face. It was annoying that even freaked out and a little homophobic, Mason was still hot. His face was scruffy too, and my fingers itched to trace the stubble on his jaw.
It was all extremely unfair. If you’re going to have a panic about the gays, could you at least have the decency to do it while looking like a house centipede, and not Mr. Nordic November?
“I already told you, I don’t remember that,” he said, and the look he gave me—lost, helpless—actually made me feel bad for a second. Only a second, though.
“Were you out at school?” he asked.
“Not officially. I got bullied enough as it was. No need to confirm everyone’s suspicions and make it worse. But I thought it was obvious. Ava knew.”
“Well, she never told me. So how was I supposed to know?”
I stared at him, trying to make sense of it. The man in front of me, and the boy he used to be. What the hell was his problem with me if it wasn’t that I was gay? Had he known anyway, and was just pretending now that he hadn’t?
I narrowed my eyes, watching his face closely. He didn’t look like he was lying. But how could he have forgotten everything he and his friends had done to me? Maybe it didn’t matter. Even if he hadn’t been homophobic back then, he definitely was now, with the way he was reacting.
“I have her number,” I said to needle him. “Want to talk to her now?”
Ava was married. It was a mocking offer, but it jolted Mason out of whatever daze he’d been in.
“No, I don’t.” His voice was firmer now. “What Idowant is to know why you need a bodyguard. Stop sidetracking the discussion.”
“I’m not sidetracking anything,” I said. “That discussion is over.”
“No.” He folded his arms, shoulders going tight. “It’s not.”
His arms were ridiculous. Big, firm, confident arms. It was a shame they were attached to a jackass.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me. I don’t even care if you sue me or Dana. I’m not letting you bully me out of this house without knowing how much danger you’re in.”
“I’mbullyingyou?” I repeated, stunned. “That’s rich.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Are you sure you want to stay here? A minute ago, you looked ready to run. What if I get mygayon you?”
I stepped into his space, one foot, then another, until we were practically chest to chest. I expected him to recoil, flinch, slide away again. He didn’t move.
Up close, his eyes were impossibly blue under the kitchen light. I tried to look threatening, but it was hard when I barely came up to his chin. Mason loomed naturally.
“I’m serious,” he said, his voice calm. “You need to tell me.”
I glared up at him, trying to focus, despite the way my body lit up by being this close. Warmth radiated off him, and my pulse picked up. Fuck, he was hot. I hated how much I noticed.
“I don’t need to do anything.”
“You do if you want me to leave your house.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll call the cops.”
