Page 10 of Take Me
“That made them way cooler.”
“Totally.”
We leave it at that, a shared shadow of memory.There’s no whisper of pity, no kindly meant squeeze of my hand.This moment right here—this is why Mason and I have been friends for so long.
That, and our shared love of snacks.
“I’ll have an order of cheese sticks, please.”I hand my menu back to the waiter.“Also, a Coke.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Mason mutters.“Who comes to a kombucha bar and getsCoke?”
I stick out a hand, and he shakes it.“Erika Gentry,” I announce.“I go to a kombucha bar and drink Coke.I also don’t share my cheese sticks with guys who bitch about my beverage choices.”
“Not just any guy.”He throws me a wink.“Your boyfriend, remember?”
“Gross.”
Grinning, he picks up another small glass from the tray.This one looks suspiciously like urine.“I really think you’d like the pear one,” he insists, setting it in front of me.
I nudge it right back.“I’m good.”I take another sip of water.“You’re serious about pretending we’re dating for Sam and Maxine’s wedding?”
“It makes sense, right?It’ll keep people from doing the ‘poor baby’ thing all night.”
I groan at the thought of their pity.“I guess.”
“Besides, it’s believable.People see us playing pool together all the time.”
“Playing pool, yes.Not playing the part of two lovers who’ve been launching the meat missile together.”
He looks bemused.“You should probably make a point of looking more sexually satisfied.How are your swooning skills?”
“Not nearly as strong as my crotch-punching skills.”
Mason laughs.“It shouldn’t be tough to pull off.We just hold hands a few times and feed each other little sausages from the buffet.Maybe play cornhole together or something.”
I stare at him.“That’s your idea of what dating looks like?”
Mason shrugs.“Worked with Annabelle.”The good-natured grin melts off his face.“Shit.”
“Sorry.”I know how much he liked Annabelle.“You doing okay?”
“I’m great.”He rallies his trademark grin, but I see how his right cheek keeps twitching.“I really think you should give the pear kombucha a chance.”
For fuck’s sake.“And I really think you’re bullshitting me about not being burnt up over Annabelle.”I don’t say it with pity.Just straightforward friendship and a little tough love.“Make you a deal.I’ll drink the stupid kombucha if you tell me honestly—forreal, Mason—what’s up.”
He stares into my eyes, which he’s done about six-billion times.I don’t know why my breath catches, but it takes effort not to glance away.
“Fine.”Sighing, he glances at Harper.The kids are still horsing around, giggling and talking about the upcoming dance.The girls bat their lashes and laugh just a little too loudly.Mason’s gaze swings back to mine.“It sucks, okay?I’m pretty damn bummed that she doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore.”
At first I’m not sure who he means.“Harper or Annabelle?”
He laughs, but it’s brittle.“Both, I guess.I meant Annabelle, though.”
“You mean it wasn’t one of those ‘let’s stay friends’ breakups like I got?”For the record, I don’t want to be friends with Neil.I wanted to marry the asshole, not play darts like we’re pals.
“Nah, Annabelle wants to be friends.”Mason doesn’t sound cheered by that.“She’s already called a couple times, wanting to hang out.”
“What did you tell her?”
