Page 6 of Hypnotized By Love

His voice was deeper than I remembered. Smooth and rich, like poisoned honey. “Sierra. Hello again, Bridget.” He nodded at them.

Then his fiery gaze landed on me. “Savannah Sinclair.” He said my name with so much disdain that I was outraged. How could he be angry with me? I was the wronged party here. He was the one who had spread lies about me, not the other way around.

“What are you even doing here?” I hissed the words at him.

So much for my great plan to remain aloof.

“Currently? Feeling unwelcome.”

Bridget leaned forward toward him, peering up at him from under her long lashes. “Fancy seeing you again so soon.”

He didn’t respond to her overture. He didn’t even look at her. His gaze stayed locked on mine.

“What brings you back home?” Sierra asked it in a friendly, conversational tone, but I knew she was ready to ride shotgun for me.

Still keeping his eyes on me, he said, “I’m visiting my mom for a little while. I’m not really sure how long.”

It had never occurred to me that Mason might be here for an extended period of time. I’d thought he would come in, completely ruin my day, and then crawl back into whatever hole he’d emerged from.

I unexpectedly found myself speaking again. “Decided to take a break from living under a bridge and shaking down goats for gold?”

His eyes lit up with interest and he smirked at my jab. Like I amused him.

That was somehow worse.

I had honestly forgotten this overwhelming sense of visceral hate. It had been years since I’d felt this way. Not even Timothy’s false reporting had made me this upset.

There was something else there, too. The one feeling I’d never told anybody about, besides Sierra. And even though I would have denied it with my last breath, that staggering chemical attraction I felt toward him hadn’t gone away. It was every bit as bright as my anger.

I was breathing hard, practically panting, and I didn’t know which emotion was making me feel this way. I did not want to be attracted to him. I had willed myself for years to let it go, making up the lie that he wasn’t as handsome or as smart as I’d remembered.

There was a time I would have offered up my firstborn child just for the chance to go on a date with him.

That was before, though.

And I would never be that naive again.

His mother, Heather, joined us. “Hello, girls! How are you today?”

Everybody said hello to her. I might have added a greeting as well, but I was still locked in this staring contest with Mason and I planned on winning.

“I need your help,” Heather said. “I’ve been trying to get Mason to donate for the silent auction for the PTA fundraiser. He’s such a talented writer that I thought somebody would love to have him evaluate a manuscript. Don’t you think that’s a good idea? You should help me talk him into it, Savannah. Since you’re the one finding donors.”

I absolutely did not want to talk him into it. I wanted him to steer very clear of this event.

“Mom”—he sounded embarrassed—“I already said no.”

Bridget smiled. “That seems to be Mason’s word of the day. ‘No.’”

His mother looked like she was about to ask what Bridget meant when Heather’s phone rang and she glanced at it. “I have to get this. Savannah, I’ll see you at our session tomorrow.”

She waved to me, and Mason added, “Yes, Savannah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There was a promise there that was both repulsive and enticing.

What was wrong with me?

They left and Bridget stood up. “I need to head home. If I’m going to win Mason over, I’ve got some optimistic shaving to do.”

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