Page 57 of Masks and Mishaps

“For you to only touch me when it’s transactional?”

“Dalt, please listen—”

“To be around you and know you don’t have feelings for me?”

“Who said that?” she demands—and it’s like my heart stops. “You think I don’t want you? You think it’s easy for me? I waited.”

“I know, but I was trying not to be such a mess—”

“Thisis the mess,” Essie snaps, pressing her palm against my lips to shut me up. “The drinking? The weed? I didn’t care. I didn’t even care that you can’t sit still for five minutes without tracking down a dragon to poke. I likeyour mess. The bad mess is thatour parents got together before we did.”

I blink. Essie has never raised her voice like this before.

She touches her forehead to my chest—against the spot where an X decorates my pectoral. When she pulls back, she places both hands on my cheeks. “Look at me,” she instructs. “Really look at me.”

I do. I look at her, and she continues to be the most entrancing woman I’ve ever seen.

Her perfectly manicured fingers slide over the stubble on my cheeks when she says, “There are two kinds of people: those who sow chaos and those who keep chaos at bay. When they find each other, it’s magical.” She swallows hard enough for me to hear it. “You’re asking me to sow chaos, Dalton. The moment I do, you and I are screwed. We’re going to ruin our parents’ marriage, our careers, and possibly our friendship. So unless you’re ready to be the one to keep chaos at bay, you have to stop asking me for more.”

I breathe out. “I don’t think that’s possible,” I admit, knowing honesty isn’t going to get me what I want—but I can’t lie to her. “I’m always going to want more.”

“Always?”

I nod. Admitting the next part feels insurmountable, but I do it anyway and say, “This deal was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

She’s quiet for a beat until she asks, “You’re done with us?” and her voice is soft now. “You’re done with me?”

“Yeah,” I confirm, and I don’t feel like I’m the one actually saying the words. “I’m out.”

Essie’s eyes are shining and her chest heaves with a coarse inhalation. “Okay,” she agrees, nodding. “That’s fine.”

“Baby—”

“It’s okay,” she reiterates as she fumbles for the door handle. “I thought I could handle your reaction, but I was wrong. I can’t bear to see you unhappy. I should have known better.”

“Essie, stop.”

“But I really am sorry—”

“Why are you blaming yourself?” I demand. “I’m not one of your little brothers or Valeria or Cora. I don’t want you to think you have to take care of me.”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” I insist, putting my hands on her cheeks. “You think I don’t know you, but I know you better than anyone. You don’t go to sleep until you know where all three of your brothers and our four best friends are. You always serve yourself last because you like to see what everyone else takes so you don’t hog their favorites. You already know what you’re getting all of us for Christmas. You’re used to taking care of people, but I don’t want that for me.”

Essie doesn’t respond, but her lower lip quivers until she looks away.

I hate this. I hate that I made her sad. “Look, I get it. I know you needed this money, so I’ll do a wire transfer.”

Her eyebrows shoot up and the quiver in her lip is long gone. “You think that’s why I’m upset?”

“Is it—”

“You’re wrong.”

“What?”

“You’re wrong,” she repeats, and her expression is uncharacteristically disdainful. “I don’t want your money. I wanted to dothiswith you.”

---