Page 21 of Infinite

“This way,” Neesa says, blushingagain.

Mason watches Neesa walk off as if she’s trying to keep a tennis ball clutched between her knees. He smiles, approvingly. Evidently, I’m not the only one who considers Neesa a queen among peasant folks like me.

I exchange glances with Mason, following closely behind Neesa as she heads toward the elevator. “You all right there, Lavina?” I ask.

She stiffens at the name. “Fine,” she squeaks, attempting to pry her legs apart. “We’re in the penthouse. It has plenty of room for you and Ma—I’m mean, your friends.”

I think she meant Mason, “your hot, sexy, I wish you weren’t here so I can get naked with him, friend.” I want to ask her about it, but I’m not happy with how hard she’s struggling to hold herself upright.

“Did you hurt your knee?” I ask. Damn, when she saw Mason, it’s as if she hit an invisible wall. For all I’m joking, I think she might be hurt.

Neesa’s leg does this jerky thing that can’t possibly be human. “New shoes,” she says.

“You wear those all the time,” I counter.

That’s about when the shy schoolgirl Neesa has warped into vanishes and Sasha Fierce returns with a vengeance. She hits the button to the penthouse, even though she already pressed it, speaking through her teeth. “They’renew,” she insists.

I snatch her arm when she loses her footing while Mason presses a hand to her back. I’m not exactly shocked it’s Mason Neesa looks at. I am, however, dumbfounded by the way she reacts.

I’ve never seen a woman truly swoon. I used to think it was a gross exaggeration of how women fall all over men. That shit can’t be real. Well, I’ve been wrong before and it appears I’m wrong again. Neesa isswooningover Mason. Now? Today? Could they have maybe picked a less disastrous time in my life?

Sean shoves his way between us when the doors swing open. “I’ve got this,” he says, lifting Neesa into his arms like Tarzan would with Jane. I almost expect him to do the Tarzan yell or maybe do the Chewbacca howl. Sean’s all sorts of talented.

His talent and strength sadly go unappreciated by the lovely Jane. Neesa kicks her legs like a little kid learning to swim. It’s all she manages before she covers her face with her hand.

Mason makes strangling noises in his attempt to not full out guffaw. Sean doesn’t notice, which shouldn’t surprise anyone. He returns to his stripper safety wear tirade. “Clear helmets,” he insists. “Like dem heels.”

I lift my arms, trying to save Neesa. “Here. Give her to me.”

“I got her,” Mason says, his offer to save the damsel in distress, draining the color from said damsel’s skin.

“She’s my assistant,” I say, trying to spare her.

“She’s his assistant,” Sean agrees.

“For the love of chocolate and strawberries,” Neesa whimpers. “Just put me down. I’m fine. Goodness gracious, I’m fine.”

Maybe she is. I’m not. We step into the sunken living room of the penthouse. A tall, leggy blond rises from the couch like a bright sun in the horizon, disintegrating the darkness and making the clouds her paltry bitches.

Becca Shields steps forward, her killer stilettos crushing what’s left of my heart.

“Hi, Hale,” she says. “I’m at your service.”

Chapter Five

Becca

I was prepared to see Hale. On my grandmother’s grave, I swear I was.

Until I actually saw him.

His hair isn’t as blond as it was when we were young and taking advantage of the sun and surf. The lack of boyish charm is also something new, likely hidden far beneath his pristine suit. Life away from Kiawah hardens and ages you faster than you’re ready. So does life away from those who most love you.

Hale steps through, anger displacing his shock and what remains of the young man I fell in love with.

The sapphire blue skirt suit I’m wearing draws most eyes. Hale’s focus remains fully on my face. I try to smile, but my smile doesn’t come. All the tender thoughts I’m feeling at seeing him are kicked aside by Hale’s sharp tone.

“What the fuck?” he says, his steely gaze meeting Mason’s.

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