Page 145 of Please Hate Me

“Well, take Seb’s SUV.”

I knew Mason was an excellent driver, and I didn’t want her to get hurt... but I’d love to see his reaction to her totaling his all-too-expensive vehicle.

“He’s out too… something with work. You have your Jeep. Why don’t you get yourself something?”

Because then I’d lose my excuse to see you.

“Is Cameron home?”

“Cameron!” she called, “Are you home?”

Fucking brat.

“Uhhh yeah?” Confusion wove into his far-off drawl. “Who’s asking?”

“Lucian. He wants you to bring him a coffee.”

I groaned and covered my eyes. Not that I didn’t love Cameron’s random visits, but I didn’t wanthimright now. Was she actually going to make me fucking say I wanted to see her? Would I even be able to say it if she forced me to?

“Is that why he called you?”

There was a beat of silence, and I was dying to see the look she was giving him.

“Why don’t you take my truck and go get him one? I have a few things to do around the farm.”

“Fine.” An exasperated sigh punctuated Mason’s response. “You’re just getting coffee though… Oh, and ask your client if they want anything. My treat.”

I was almost a little disappointed that the man I deemed to be Aiden didn’t tap out when I resumed tattooing him. Part of me hoped I’d be able to work in a quickie with Mason before she left, but it seemed I would have no such luck.

“Hey, just a heads up. My girl is going to be stopping by,” I warned over the hum of my machine.

“You have a girlfriend?” He snorted.

It took every ounce of willpower not to dig the needle a little further into his bicep. I wanted to see Aiden squirm, but I wasn’t willing to risk messing up my work. Plus, I probably got more pussy in a single day than he did in a month.

As if on cue, the bell near the front door sounded. I couldn’t hear Mason’s voice, but I heard Sera tell her where I was. After a moment, Mason poked her head around the black curtain that separated me from the rest of the shop.

“Can I come in?”

I stopped tattooing to look at Aiden.

“Can she?”

From his position, he couldn’t see that it was Mason Albright, model, musician, and currently one of the most influential celebrities of our time, waiting for permission to enter. But I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he realizedthat’swho I was going home to each night.

A smirk twisted my lips as my needle remained just inches from his skin.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, completely unimpressed. “I literally don’t care.”

I motioned for Mason to come in with a nod. She stepped through the curtain with a cup holder full of three coffees and a hoard of sugar packets and creamer cups. The air in the room seemed to shift, like her very presence was commanding attention. I didn’t need to look at Aiden to know his reaction would be priceless.

Mason didn’t have her contacts in, leaving her inharmonious gaze visible as she focused on me. The only makeup she wore was her overpriced lip oil. I called it ChapStick once, but according to Mason, those were twoverydifferent things.

“Here, sit in my support person chair.” I gestured toward the metal folding chair near my desk, suddenly wishing I had something a bit more comfortable for her.

“Hey.” She smiled, and my heart skipped at her delayed greeting.

“Hey.” I tried to play it cool as I sat the machine on the tray once again. “Meet Aiden.”

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