Page 11 of Hypnotized By Love

“I don’t really mix business with revulsion.”

At that, he got up and walked over to the couch, close to where I was seated. The setup was intended for my clients to lie down and relax, with me close to their heads so that they could hear me more easily.

But Mason sat on the couch directly across from me so that our knees were almost touching. This shouldn’t have made me feel woozy. It should have fed into my anger, but I was leaning hard into the total disorientation.

I held my breath as he studied me. I really had forgotten how handsome he was. How much more handsome he’d become as a man than he’d been as a teenage boy.

“Show me.” He said the words so softly, and his invitation made my heart sputter. “Let me see what it is you do.”

“No thanks,” I managed after swallowing hard. “That’s not how this works. I don’t have to prove myself to you.”

His eyes were just as I remembered them, a light hazel color, but so intense that they overwhelmed me.

He’d always been able to make me feel like I was a bit hypnotized, and it was happening again now.

“Please,” he said in a pleading tone that undermined all of my good intentions.

I had to get control of my rebellious hormones. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be my client,” I said with as much finality as I could muster.

“Because I stood you up for a dance seven years ago?”

“That’s not ...” Did he really think that was the reason I was mad?

“It’s why you hate me, right?”

I let out a scoff. “You know full well what you did.”

“I know I didn’t come over that night.”

Now I was mad all over again. “It’s cute that you think I’ve been angry with you for this long over you ghosting me.”

“You think I’m cute?” he interjected.

“That’s not what I ... you’re totally misunderstanding ...” I pulled in a deep breath. “Despite your god complex, you didn’t invent the concept of being a selfish jerk. I haven’t been losing sleep over not getting the great privilege of going to a dance with you. I’m sure I’m not the first girl you stood up.”

“You were. Still are.”

Why was he saying that? Wasyou’re the only woman I’ve ever stood upsupposed to be romantic or something? “Are you trying to make me feel special right now?”

“No. I wanted to explain.” He flexed his hands, and for one heart-stopping second, I thought he was going to reach for my hand, but he didn’t.

I tried to tell myself that I was relieved, but I could taste the disappointment at the back of my throat.

“Explain,” I said, curling my fingers tightly in my lap so that they wouldn’t get any funny ideas. Mason was the worst. My brain completely understood that fact, but my body was fully out of control right now.

He let out a sigh and reached up to rub the back of his neck. It was a gesture so familiar that it made my heart wince. He only did that when he was stressed or upset.

Maybe it had been a calculated move, but it had the intended effect. Part of my defenses came crumbling down, and I hated that it happened.

“I was an idiot mess of hormones?” he offered with a wry smile that had the same effect on me as the neck rubbing. “I really wanted to take you to that dance. I was about to tell my mom that I had asked you when she started in on one of her tangents about how we were going to end up together and get married, and I’ll admit, it freaked me out. My parents were in the midst of their divorce and I had a pretty negative view on relationships at that point. I wanted one dance to have fun with you, but our moms were planning our entire future together. I realized that if they knew that I’d asked you, I’d never hear the end of it. And I wasn’t ready to be in a serious relationship. I was a coward that night. I should have called you and told you, but instead I ran and hid.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Since my mother was equally bad, I would have completely understood.

“My only excuse is that I was a seventeen-year-old boy. As a species, we’re not exactly known for our ability to communicate. I regret it, though. I’m really sorry. If I had known how much it would hurt you, that it would ruin our friendship, I never would have done it.”

How was it possible to be touched by his apology and still hate him this much? “That wasn’t what ruined our friendship.”

“Then what did?”

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