Page 35 of The Masks We Break

The what-if…

And I know if she asked it right now, my answer would remain the same.I refuse to be another person who dims her light beyond repair.

I lean over, brushing my lips over her cheek so lightly, I’m not even sure they even touch her cheek.

“Happy birthday, puppet.”

At the same moment, her phone dings on the side table.

SEVENTEEN

Aweak heroine is my least favorite thing in a book. A woman that bends to the will of the hero no matter what he does or how he treats her. It’s literally the only thing that makes me want to hurl a precious book across the room. The rare times that I do find it okay is when it’s a dual point of view, and we get to see into the guy’s mind. We endure his hurt, frustration with himself, and the incredible amount of love he has for her.

But, I remind myself for the millionth time, this is not a story, and if it were, it dang sure wouldn’t be a romance. Perhaps a self-destruction autobiography, but nothing in the realm that would explain why again, I’m surrounded by fresh cotton and a deep musk cedar wood.

With the inhale of the smell comes the recognition of where I ended up yet again, along with a tidal wave of pain, wrapping around my head as though I wear it in a tight headband. Not bothering to open my eyes, I pull my knees up to my chest, inviting a new sensation to take over.

It jolts an electric shot of pain mixed with odd pleasure through my core, and the memory settles in, reminding me I finally did something on my book bucket list. I created an entire list while reading my favorite books, and this one was at the top—vertical clitoral hood piercing—a badass piercing for only the baddest of heroines.

While I might not feel like the strongest woman right now, I don’t regret my birthday present to myself.

“How are you doing there, puppet?” Blaze’s voice is no surprise, but it’s jarring how close it is, almost as if he’s right next to me.

I don’t chance peeling my eyes open to find out because I know as soon as I do, reality will set in, bringing about the inevitable embarrassment and heartache that always follows. Instead, a groan slips out, hoping it’s enough to convey all the things I can’t verbally say.

Is there lower than rock bottom? Something more pathetic than pathetic? If there is, that’s precisely where I am, nestled deep inside.

“I wouldn’t be so hard on yourself. It’s a tough day.”

I still can’t believe he remembered.

I mean, but why wouldn’t he? That’s his freaking calling card, after all. Put on a front as though he’s a heartless king, but then moonlight as a dark knight, ready to save me.

“Also, you coming here wasn’t desperate or stupid on your part. It was smart. You know, even inebriated, that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Can you not?” Finally, I sit up, and even though the regret is immediate, I pull off the soft comforter from my torso and narrow my eyes.

Blaze sits in his dark leather chair next to the bed. He leans back, one arm resting over the low wide sides, and spreads his legs as he readjusts. The dark slacks he wears seem to be tailored, stopping right above his ankle and Armani loafers. Unlike the rest of the world that can never find two matching black articles of clothing, his dress shirt seamlessly does, hugging his fit body. The top two buttons are left undone, shamelessly displaying tan muscles starting under his collarbone. He pushes his damp hair back, his throat bobbing with a swallow.

A shiver works its way through my spine, and I have to physically close my eyes again to regain my train of thought.

As if he can read the intrusive notions, he prompts me. “What is it you’d like menotto do?” The words are low and raspy, driving the butterflies in my stomach wild as they take flight.

Do not read into that. There is no innuendo hidden in his words.

I suck in a breath, but it does crap to help calm my now racing pulse. “Stop acting like me coming here willeverbe a smart choice. And while you’re at it, stop acting like you actually care, Blaze.”

He scoffs, forcing my eyes back open to see him tilting his head. “Canyounot? I’ve said it before; just because I don’t wish to see you—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” I lift a hand, not wanting to give him an opportunity to hurt my egoagain.

“Why do you have to do this? Why can’t you let us have this without adding in all these unnecessary—”

“And what isthis, Blaze? Please tell me.” I’m trying not to yell, to not show him just how much he gets under my skin. But it’s not working. The heat in my face expands, sending waves of anger to all my limbs until I can feel it in my toes.

“To feel what it’s like to give in to the temptation of something out of our normal elements.” His eyes widen as he finishes, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it. As if he lost control of his words. But he recovers quickly, his lips pursing while he looks down. After whispering to the number six, he lifts his head, revealing a relaxed face. “Look, nothing has changed since high school. I’m still the same man. If anything, I’m worse.”

Too caught up in his reaction, I didn’t catch his words before, but now they creep around my head, tangling with the headache. “You still don’t care. I’m just a temptation.”

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