Page 17 of Masquerade Mistake

Ethan continues holding my hand as we walk through the parking lot. My mind is pure chaos, swirling with this huge secret that will completely upend his life. But in the moments I can escape my guilt and unease, I’m anchored by his hand covering mine, recalling a time seven years ago when a stranger felt like home. I cling to this as we reach our cars and he lets go of my hand, but just long enough to free me of my to-go box. He puts it on the hood of my car as I lean against the driver’s side door. Then his hands rest on either side of my head as he faces me. I’m suddenly relieved that I thought to clean my car before coming here. There’s no sign of Finn anywhere.

“I am so glad I met you,” Ethan murmurs, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead, and I know he’s going to kiss me. It’s the closest he’s been to me all night, and I rest in the heady feeling I get from his proximity as I breathe him in. Leather and pine. Summer wind. Stars and the night sky. I inhale his scent, brushing aside my vow to be chaste as he leans closer and rests his mouth on mine.

Ethan is broad and solid. His skin is covered in ink, and his stubble drags across my skin with electrifying tingles. But his mouth is soft. Seeking. Gentle. I open my lips and his tongue slowly caresses mine. His hand moves to my jaw and his fingers graze my cheek. He was the last boy I kissed, and it suddenly occurs to me how long it’s been, especially as his kiss ignites a spark in me and I feel feverish from the flame. I rest my hands at his waist, but then I cling to his back as he envelopes me in his muscular arms, deepening our kiss.

It’s then that I’m transported back in time, sitting in the front seat of his car. I feel the same butterflies and recognize the familiar way he rolls his tongue over mine. He even tastes the same, an indescribable flavor I’d recognize anywhere.

We slowly break apart, and I’m sure he knows. He has to. And yet, his smile holds no recognition that this isn’t our first kiss.

“Where have you been?” he asks, leaning his forehead against mine.

“Here in Sunset Bay, all my life,” I laugh, pecking him on the mouth. Inside, I’m dying. Just as badly as I want to tell him about Finn, there are a million reasons to keep Finn a secret, mostly fueled by my pessimistic side. If I tell him about my son—our son—our connection will burn out faster than it began. I can’t dismiss the fact that he doesn’t want kids.

And in the midst of all this, my mind is haunted by the memory of my mother parading guys in and out of our house. I can’t do that to Finn.

If Ethan turns out to be who I want him to be, then I’ll tell him. But in the meantime, it doesn’t hurt to see where this could go.

Chapter 7

Maren is waiting at my kitchen table when I open the door, a bottle of wine on the table for me, and a bottle of sparkling water for her. I love that even though she doesn’t drink anymore, she still knows when I might need to dish over a glass of something yummy—in this case, my favorite sauvignon blanc from Hanna, a Sonoma County winery up north.

“Spill,” Maren says, holding a glass toward me. I sigh, taking the glass as I collapse dramatically in the chair across from her. She laughs as she clinks my glass with her bubbly water. “That good?”

“You have no idea,” I say. I set the wine down on the table and lean forward. “Guess who Ethan is.”

She tilts her head at me, a confused look on her face. “Did we go to school with him?”

I nod. “He was a grade above us. But that’s not the important part.”

I take my phone out, then open my photos. Before we said goodbye, I’d talked him into taking a selfie with me. I pull that photo up and have Maren study it.

“Who does he look like?” I ask.

She looks closer, squinting her eyes. “I think he’s more of a Liam than a Chris,” she says.

I laugh as I get up, crossing the room and taking Finn’s school picture off the refrigerator. I bring it back to the table and set it in front of Maren. She glances at Finn’s photo, and then back at Ethan’s. Her eyes get wide and she snatches the photo off the table, holding it next to my phone.

“Oh my God.” She looks up at me, her eyes like saucers. “It’s him? Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” I say.

I tell her about discovering the tattoo, and then noticing all his features and expressions that were just like Finn’s. He even had some of the same mannerisms, like how he ducked his head whenever he said something funny or how his face lit up when he knew he’d impressed me. Finn and Ethan had never met, yet they have so many similarities.

“But the only strange thing is that his eyes were brown and back then, they were green. I’m fairly certain eyes don’t change color.”

“It was a costume party,” Maren says. “I mean, it was a masquerade, but people were dressing up weird all over the place. He could have been wearing contacts.”

I thought about it for a moment. “I guess.” I peer over the table at the photo of him, still in shock that this is the same man from so long ago.

“Are you going to tell him?” Maren asks.

“No,” I say, but second guess myself when I see the surprise in Maren’s face. “I will eventually, but I need to feel him out first.”

“I think you already felt Ethan out, and look where you are now.”

I toss a napkin at her as she laughs.

“That’s not all of it, though. Ethan told me he doesn’t want kids.”

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