Page 68 of Please Hate Me

The way my name sounded in his voice caused chills to run down my spine, anchoring me in my place. I looked over my shoulder and noticed his anxious posture, a hand woven into the roots of his hair.

“I, uh, I broke my glasses a week ago, and I have to wait for the optometrist to order a new pair. Is there any chance you’d be able to drive me to work?”

Chapter 20

Lucian

Towering evergreen trees blurred past me as I leaned against my passenger side window. If I looked at the right times, I could catch a fleeting glimpse of the ocean. Hartwood was a hell of a lot closer to the coast than Portland was—that was one of the only perks of living in this dumb hick town. I cracked the window and closed my eyes, breathing in the brisk, slightly salty air.

I needed any distraction I could get—Mason-fucking-Albright was consuming my every other thought. I couldn’t fucking stand it. She was an inconsiderate, flighty bitch who left me when I was at my lowest. But just being close to her made me feel things I could barely explain.

I looked over at her in the driver’s seat of my Jeep, silently falling in love with the way the sunlight coated her delicate features. It was like the world only existed to help Mason shine. My heart thundered as Mason’s eyes locked on mine for a split second before returning to the road. An inferno rushed to my face, and I looked away.

“So… you don’t have contacts either?” She asked, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

My breath hitched as I suddenly became aware of the thin pieces of silicone hidden in my eyes. This was such a stupid lie—if Mason had opened my nightstand, she would have seen my thick-rimmed frames, perfectly intact.

“I ran out of dailies, so now I have to live like this for another week,” I murmured. “There was a backorder on my contacts, and they couldn’t get the frames for my glasses any sooner.”

She nodded, leaning back slightly. After breakfast, she had changed out of Cameron’s clothing and into a band shirt and leggings, both of which did nothing to hide her pregnancy. For some fucking reason, seeing Mason like this had me almost giddy. There was nothing more special than watching someone you—who’s important to your history, become a parent.

I groaned at the thought of actuallylovingMason again. But, as I stole another glimpse at her, I couldn’t help but wonder if loving her wouldactuallybe that bad.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, reminding myself how she left. How I cried for so long I had to be hospitalized for dehydration. How I lost a month of sleep to panic attacks, thinking everyone else in my life would disappear the same way she did.

To love Mason Albright was to let her hurt me again. Out of everyone in the world, why didshehave to be the one to give me butterflies?

No. Butterflies weren’t the right insect to describe what Mason was doing to me. Instead of butterflies, she filled me with wasps. Wasps that swarmed at every interaction, buzzed at every word spoken, crawled in my skin every time she gave me one of her irritating half-hearted smiles. Each excruciating wasp sting sparked a fire inside me that defied logic and reason.

One crucial factor was saving me from falling hopelessly in love again. This woman may have been Mason-fucking-Albright, global superstar, the woman who promised me forever and then left without warning. But she wasn’t my Masie anymore. She was thinner, sadder, and too quiet—a shell of her former self. Those differences just barely kept me from making an absolute jackass of myself.

But I was a jackass by nature, so it was only a matter of time.

Mason let out a pained breath before removing a hand from the steering and placing it on the bottom of her stomach. A concerned wasp stung my throat.

“Are you okay?” I asked, doing my best to sound nonchalant.

She nodded, but her features remained tense. “Lavender is jumping on my bladder.”

“We’re close to the shop. Once we’re there, you can come inside to pee.”

Mason shot me a hollow smile. When Mason’s happiness was genuine, you could see her teeth. Right now, though, she gave me the type of close-lipped smile her mother taught her to use in interviews and photos.

Holly hated Mason’s fucked-up teeth, but she considered braces a ‘waste of money‘.Apparently, it was more important to spend her hard-earned cash drinking herself into a stupor every day. That being said, I was glad Mason’s mom never saw her teeth as something worth investing in. I’d never admit it now, but her smile was once my favorite part of her. I loved the gap in her teeth, how her canines were just sharp enough that you had to wonder if she was secretly a vampire. Her crooked teeth and mismatched eyes gave Mason an almost magical quality.

The parking lot of the tattoo parlor came into view sooner than expected, not that I was complaining. I needed to get out of this fucking car. Before I could even process what I was doing, I had hopped out of my Jeep and dashed around to the driver’s side tohelp Mason get out. She was still unbuckling her seatbelt when I opened her door.

“My—I mean, the Jeep is, uh...” My face burned as I stumbled through my words. “It’s lifted, and I don’t want you to fall.”

Her eyes softened as they rested on me, and the wasps in my chest multiplied. She took my hand, and I helped her down before smoothing her shirt. My fingers rested on her stomach for just a second too long—I pulled away the moment I realized it. I was practically fiending for a chance to just touch Mason. Part of me wanted to reach out and hold her hand.

That part was a fucking moron.

I crossed my arms to prevent myself from doing something stupid as I headed for the minuscule brick building. I’d named my shopSchoolhouse Tattoobecause the bell tower on the top reminded me of one of those ancient one-room schools. The bricks were brown and crumbled around the edges from age, and while I did my best to maintain it, it looked kind of cruddy compared to the restaurant and boutique on either side.

If I had been able to save more money for a down payment, I’d have picked something better. Sophia, Leona, and the world’s most annoying brother had each offered to buy the building outright, but I hated the idea of owing money to any of them. I may have not been a corporate drone like the rest of them, but I was determined to make a name for myselfwithoutanyone’s help. Especially because the last time someone helped me with anything, they left without a word.

I fumbled around in my pocket for a moment, removed my key ring, and unlocked the glass door. The bell overhead chimed as I let us in and flicked on the light.

---