Page 144 of Please Hate Me

“This shit hurts, man, not like you’d know that.”

I stared him down for a moment, unable to keep the incredulous look off my face as I processed his words. Slowly, I scooted back and peeled off my black latex gloves. Even after anhour in that plastic prison, my hands weren’t nearly as sweaty as his face. With one hand, I popped open the button on my cuff and rolled up the sleeve of my emerald button-down, revealing part of the vine sleeves that covered both arms and part of my left hand. I made a show of holding my tattoos up, going as far as to slap my forearm for dramatic effect.

“I can show you more, but I charge extra if a client asks me to remove my shirt.”

His face morphed into disgust, and I wondered if he had to fight the urge to call me something derogatory. I raised an eyebrow, silently challenging him to do it. He could be as mean as he wanted, but I could be worse.

“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll take ten.”

“Fifteen,” I corrected. I needed a break from him just as bad as he needed one from me.

I wasn’t plagued with another word from the frat boy—I should have probably asked for his name, not that I actually cared to know. But before I could ask, he walked through my curtain and out into God knows where. Aiden, I decided. He looked like an Aiden. Felt like a pretty good guess for a white boy with too much money.

“Fuck you, Aiden,” I mumbled once I was sure he was out of earshot.

I stood and stretched before going to my desk and grabbing my phone. If missing Mason was a crime, I was soon to be sentenced to life without parole. But I couldn’t fucking help it. Worse, I still didn’t know if she was going to run away with Sebastian as soon as he was done chasing his cult leader who was probably long dead by now.

At least when Mason was in France, I never had to look at her face-to-face. Sure, she was on TV, radio, and digital headlines, but I never had to sit across from her at the holiday table.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to dispel the image. She was here, and she seemed happy. I just wished she’d give me some security that she wasn’t leaving. She told me she loved me, but that was only when she was asleep. If she could share that with me as a waking thought, I’d feel better.

I grabbed my phone and dialed her number; she picked up on the first ring.

“... Yes?” Her voice was smooth as if she had somehow been expecting my call.

“What, no ‘hello’?”

There was a beat of silence, followed by the ruffling of covers and a heavy breath as she got settled. Somehow, she was supposed to carry Rosie for another ten-ish weeks, and as much as I liked to torment her with the threat of going over, I wasn’t sure she was even going to make it to her due date.

“Hello… What do you want?” She huffed, and I felt a little guilty for disrupting her.

Not guilty enough to stop, though.

“Can’t I call mybeautifulgirlfriend just because I miss her sweet voice?”

“You calledme, not Sophia.”

“And for that, I’m bending you over my knee and smacking your ass when I get home.”

“Is that a promise?” Her laugh was easy, the type that wrapped around your heart and made you smile, too. It was a lovely sound, and I was grateful to hear it again.

“Cross my heart... but I need a favor.”

“Did you forget your lunch again?” Her exasperated tone was music to my ears.

“I did… but I’d settle for a coffee.” And a moment to show off my girlfriend, of course.

“Sophia says you’re doing this just because you like seeing me. Is that true?”

My heart lurched, and the familiar sensation of wasps filled my chest. But I didn’t mind them so much anymore… maybe I could start calling them bumble bees instead.

“No, I’m doing it because I like to bother you… It’s different.” I cleared my throat. “I can’t believe she’d say something like that. Maybe you should steal her car so you can bring me caffeine.”

Of course, I absolutelycouldbelieve Sophia would say that. She had been on me for the last two weeks straight, trying to get me to admit I enjoyed seeing Mason. I kept telling her there was no point; she already knew, so asking me to say it was like adding insult to injury. Honestly, I just didn’t want Mason-fucking-Albright to have that power over me again.

“I’d love to incur her wrath likesomeoneand end up tied to a chair… but she’s at the grocery store with the kids.”

My heart fell a little.

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