Page 69 of Break

“They’re my best friends, Nicole.”

“I know that.”

“They’re not your fucktoys.”

“Says who?” I push back, and immediately feel bad about it. Exhaling, I slouch again. “I know they’re not, Mase.”

“Do you love them?”

I can’t have this conversation with him, here in this stupid bar, with the rest of our party waiting for us outside. I don’t want to have it at all.

“Answer me, Nicole.”

My instinct is to go on the defense and be a brat and tell him to kiss my ass. But Mason’s being sincere, and this conversation needs to be had. I haven’t been able to discuss it with anyone else, including Grace, and I’ve got to get it off my chest before it crushes me to death.

“I need a drink first.”

So much for having balls, right? I’m stalling and can’t help it. Once I say this, I won’t be able to take it back and Mason, the bane of my existence, will know my deepest secret. Well, one of them at least.

He flags the bartender down and orders two shots of top-shelf bourbon. Neither of us say a word until the glasses are set in front of us. He silently slides mine over and we both down our drinks.

“I’m in love with both of them.” There. I said it. Does he think less of me now? Is he going to laugh? Get mad? Tell them before I do?

Looking smug, he tips his head to the bartender. “Another.”

Bourbon pours into our glasses, and I recognize the label. Mason’s taste in friends, women, and bourbon are impeccable. Isometimes wonder if I could have stomached marrying him. The answer is absolutely fucking not. He’s got a big heart and all, but no. Justno. I can’t see myself in a relationship where my husband and I are merely roommates in a mansion and have to fake being perfectly in love in front of people.

But isn’t that what I’ve always done? Faked it?

I fake my happiness all the fucking time. Act braver than I am. Pretend to be something I’m not.

Gripping the fresh glass, I down it before I cry. The bourbon burns my throat and gut. I think I might throw it up.

“Don’t say anything,” I say quietly, not having the courage to look him in the eyes. “Please.”

Mason’s tone is sharp. “Nicole.”

“I want to tell them myself. It can’t come from you or anyone else. I just don’t want to tell them yet.” The whiskey’s gone straight to my head, making me feel loopy. “I don’t know what to do.” Turning, I finally let him see how raw and scared I am.

His face falls. “Christ.” Resting his elbows on the bar, he scrubs his face with both hands. “Want my advice or not?”

“Sure.”

“Walk away.”

•••

When we get outside, I’m feeling so buzzed that I can’t quite gauge my footing on the steps and nearly slip. Mason catches me. “Since when did you become such a lightweight?” he teases.

“Ugh.” I smack his arm, even though a smile curls on my lips. “Shut up.”

Kerrington’s waiting for us by my car. He looks concerned. “Everything okay?”

“All good.” Mason unceremoniously hands me over like I’m a sack of recycling that needs to be taken out. “You guys want to come over tomorrow?”

Kerrington glances at Landon, who’s in the passenger seat. “Mmm. Give us a day to recover, then we’ll be over.” He opens the backseat for me. “Is that okay with you, Duchess?”

I nod, too caught up in my head to say much else.

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