Page 37 of Bear
“And”—I scrub my hands through my hair, the vodka finally working itself on me—“tonight was? More of the same?”
“His retribution? Payback? A pissy mood? I don’t fucking know. But—” His gaze shifts from mine as he mutters,“Jesus.I didn’t go in there with the intent of fucking my friend. I was just trying to crack him open, stop him from throwing up even more unbreachable walls.” His dark eyes find mine again. “Did I push too hard? Maybe. Do I regret it? Not in the slightest. He was drowning, Bear, and he needed to use me to keep his head above water. He’ll never admit it, but whether I intended it or not, in that moment, he needed me.Me.I won’t regret helping my friend, even if he hates me for it for another three years. I can handle it.”
“Neither of you were drunk tonight, which is different from the last time.”
“Nope, no we weren’t. Not at the time of the fuckening, anyway. That’s what I’m calling it this time, by the way. The fuckening.” He snorts out a sad laugh. “I’m plenty fucking drunk now, though.”
I try not to laugh because I know damn well he’s trying to make light of a situation that’s been steadily brewing between them for years now. Seems like maybe they reached the boiling point again tonight.
We go several more minutes in complete silence, and when I could swear Mason has fallen asleep sitting up, he looks up, his lips quirking strangely. “You know, besides fucking the hell out of me, I think he’s as messed up over her death as ever. And I obviously didn’t help things.”
I rub my hands over my thighs, absently playing with the fabric of my joggers. “You weren’t trying to do him any harm. But I agree, he’s nowhere near over her death. Not that I’d expect him to be.”
Huffing out a broken laugh, Mason blurts, “Are you aware that Lennon and Juliette were friends?” His alcohol-soaked gaze searches mine.
“Yep. Lennon fuckin’ told me while we were outside.”
Mason nods, this time pushing his hair back from his face, revealing a grim smile. “They worked together.Worked.How fucking crazy is it to find out Juliette had a goddamn job with all the money the Hawthorne family has. But from what Lennon said, Jared Hawthorne is a prick and Juliette was trying to save money. She didn’t share why, but as the son of a complete asshole, I could make the obvious guess—she wanted to distance herself.”
Stella’s. Stella Bella. Confused as hell, I shake my head, trying to process. “When did she talk toyouabout this?”
His brows lift on his forehead. “You’re gonna fucking love this. That day she ran away from Duke on campus, I found her at Juliette’s fucking grave.”
My mind bends even farther. “So, they were close enough that Lennon knows where Juliette is buried.Andvisits her there. Uh”—my brow furrows—“does Duke know this?”
“About her and Juliette being friends,yes.About me finding Lennon having a meltdown at Juliette’s grave then napping there afterward, nope. I didn’t see the point. I figured it’d be like rubbing salt in his wounds with how close totodaywe were.”
No fucking wonder Lennon is a thorn in his side. She’s a goddamn reminder of everything he lost. How had he never mentioned they were friends? “He never fucking said anything about knowing her beyond the stepsibling thing, yet he knew of Lennon before…”
“Before their parents got married, yep.” His eyes droop for a moment.Fuck,I can’t tell how drunk he is, and his next words don’t help at all. “You know what?” He haphazardly throws out his hand, almost knocking over the vodka—okay, he’s fairly fucked up—and with an agonized groan, he mumbles, “She also said some shit during that nightmare she had—it was about Juliette. It kinda unnerved me.”
I rub my hands over my face, now wishing I had a completely clear head. “Like what?”
“It was as if she were talking to her. She kept asking her to wait and why was she scared and who was he?” Mason heaves out a sigh. “It freaked me the fuck out. She sounded so lost and anxious. That’s why I woke her up. Then I wish I fuckin’ hadn’t because—” He exhales sharply, then rubs his temple with a few fingers, clearly disturbed. He’s not kidding. And if something is bad enough to unnerve Mason, it’s definitely bad. And I do understand where he was going with that, even though he didn’t finish. If he hadn’t woken her up, they wouldn’t have fucked around. And if they hadn’t… well, I’d seen it in his horrified eyes. He’s falling for her, even though he knows he shouldn’t. Mason struggles with so many demons. I know about some of them, but I believe he hides some things way down deep. And Lennon, without ever meaning to, has brought those demons out to play in a way we couldn’t have anticipated.
I grit my teeth, not liking this one bit. “You’re positive she was talking about Juliette?”
“Yep. She said her name, I’m sure of it. It knocked me sideways, because I wasn’t expecting it. But… she was also caught in a nightmare. So, who the fuck knows? The mind can be a very strange, distorted place.” He lets out another sigh. “Is it worth upsetting her or Duke by bringing it up? I dunno. That's why I haven’t said anything about it. It was fuckin’ strange, though. And she was so upset, tears were streaming from her eyes, even though they were squeezed shut.”
I pinch my lips tightly together. “I think we should sit on it. Definitely not something we need to be bringing up today of all fucking days, you know?”
“Agreed.” He takes another sip of vodka and sets the bottle aside. “Fuck, I need to stop drinking that or I’m not going to make it to class.”
I snag the bottle and take one more swig, then set it at my side with plans to take it with me. He doesn’t need more, but sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop. “You’re already going to be drunk in class, so yeah. Maybe it’s time to call it quits.” I heave out a breath, trying to figure out how to round out this conversation without sending him into a spiral. “I’m glad we talked, though. About all of it.”
He catches what I’m saying, and his eyes crash shut. “I hope like fuck I didn’t screw things up with him. Or her. Fuuuck.”
A bit of a smile twitches to my lips. “Well, Lennon seems pretty open to different kinds of relationships and experiences.”
He ponders that statement for only a moment before he shoots me a mischievous grin. “Okay, so you might be right there. I guess we’ll find out.” But two seconds later, he’s right back to clenching his teeth together. “Duke, though?” He huffs out a distressed, unbalanced laugh before shaking his head. “I’m fucked. And not in a pleasurable way.”
NINETEEN
LENNON
I makemy way downstairs after only two fitful hours of sleep—that’s post sleepwalk. I must have gotten around three hours prior to my inadvertent and embarrassing dunk in the pool, so five broken hours total. I groan internally as last night comes flooding back to me, my brain can’t help the mental recap. Everything about fight night, Duke’s upset over Juliette, Bear and me fucking down at the spa, almost drowning myself, assholes laughing, the Duke-and-Mason discovery, and for the pièce de résistance… dry humping my stepbrother. I can’t even say which is going to cause me the most grief, but my head is swirling around the final two.
Honestly, I’m most worried about how to deal with Duke. I’d been seconds from an explosive orgasm when—like a complete idiot—I’d asked Duke why he calls me Stella. He’d sprung from the bed almost as if I’d burned him.
