Page 69 of Raised On It

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing. I think Beau’s just a little heavy-handed with the tequila tonight. My margarita gave me a little scare. I’m good, though. Thanks for checking on me.”

“You seemed fine until Miles sat down.”

“Nah, it’s all good.”

“Mason, who are you trying to kid?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, knowing she sees right through me. But for some reason, I feel the need to drag this out.

“Come on. You don’t believe your own crap about not being able to be with him. It’s obvious.”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” Her face says I’m stupid for even asking.

“Do you think anyone else noticed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Miles noticed?”

“Mason, he knows you better than the rest of us. Of course he noticed.”

“Shit.”

“He knows, and that’s why he has no intention of giving up on you.” She rubs my back sweetly. “Except you broke his heart.”

“Emmett…”

“Why don’t you go put it back together?” Her voice is sweet, yet underneath, I hear the sound of one of his chosen family members, a member of The Crew.

“Emmett, trust me. It’s better to end it now.”

“I don’t want to hear the whole ‘I’m going back to New York in a few weeks’ crap.”

She turns the faucet off, pulls two paper towels from the dispenser, and hands them to me. Clearly, my hiding out in the ladies’ room has come to an end. The look on her face says she’s not amused.

“Emmett, I think I’m gonna just go home,” I say defeated.

“Oh no, you’re not. I may not know you well, but I know enough to know you aren’t a quitter. You, Mason O’Brien, are a strong, independent woman who is not going to let a night out get squashed because you can’t stand to be in the same bar as Miles Montgomery.”

“It’s not like he did anything wrong, you know. He was just being himself after all. I’m just not sure if the strong woman I like to think I am is strong enough to be in a relationship with a man like him. As perfect as him?”

“Blech.” She sticks her forefinger in her mouth like she’s going to make herself throw up. “Whatever you do, never let him hear you call him perfect. We don’t need things like that going to his overinflated head. We’ll just keep that to ourselves. Sound good?” she says, pulling open the door.

I laugh, agreeing with her request.

The laughter is fleeting because as soon as we begin to cross the bar, our eyes lock, and as always, I find him watching me. Had he been watching the door, waiting for us to come back out? He’s still sitting in the same spot he got up from for me, but when we get within a few feet, he gets up and walks away.

The booth now consists of Rachel, Amelia, Emmett, and myself. Miles and Reece are at the bar with a group of friends, but there is a rope of tension between us pulled so tight if one of us loosens our grip, we’ll go tumbling to the ground.

I sip my margarita while the girls tell stories about growing up in Eastlyn, and even though I hear every word and laugh at the appropriate moments, my mind is never off the CEO farm boy at the bar.

Thirty minutes later, out of the corner of my eye I see Miles dragging a middle-aged woman onto the dance floor. He spins her in and out and all around the hardwoods.

“Rach, looks like your parents are here, but as per usual, Miles stole your mom already,” Amelia points out.

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