Page 134 of Gin and Lava

He shrugs. “Not all of it.”

I study him for a moment, waiting. Does he know Sam watched us behind the fence? Does he know Sam wants me back?

“It sounds like Trifecta definitely thinks you still have two parents,” Mason says after a moment, nodding to where Sam wades in the water.

“We’ve been over this,” I snip, walking past him and around the side of the beach house, looking for somewhere more private. I’d rather not have this conversation in front of everyone.

“He wants you back, but he doesn’t even know the truth about your mom?” Mason follows me to the end of the driveway to a secluded nook of palm trees.

Okay, he heard that part.

It’s gotten dark, and the only lights are from the beach house behind us, the palm fronds above blocking out any would-be stars.

“Do you want to get back together with him?” Mason asks, and I don’t know why that question rubs me the wrong way.

“You don’t have some dirty comment to say about sex and doctors and how we should all have a threesome?” I toss at him.

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that more if it was with Trifecta and some other asshole who thinks you come from wealth and money.” He motions to the beach house, pointing out my lie.

“To-may-toe, to-mah-toe, Mason.”

“Right,” he says sharply, walking to the far side of one of the palm trees. “Realboyfriend,fakeboyfriend. It’s all just a bunch of minced up words when you get down to it. Right?”

I cut him a glare.

“Look,” he raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “I knowwe’refake. That was the deal. And the whole point of this charade was to make Trifecta jealous—which you have. All I’m asking is if you want him back. Is that the next step? Should I be planning some big fake break up scene?”

“No,” I say quickly, but then I balk. “I mean, I don’t know.”

Shit. What do I want? I look at the tops of the trees, their large flat fronds billowing ominously.

“Yes, I wanted to make him jealous,” I confess. “And it feels good to know he wants me back. I just …” I close my eyes and remember Sam’s hand brushing my hair away from my temple. “He’s comfortable, you know. He’s got a stable …”

“He looks amazing on paper,” Mason offers with a sharp undercurrent to his tone.

“It’s not his resume,” I defend. “It’s …”

But I can’t form words. I don’t trust Sam. I want to, but something in my chest beats wildly with indecision. It should be easy to give Sam another chance. So why am I hesitating?

“What’s the next step, Naomi?” Mason asks.

Anger and frustration ricochet through my body. “I don’t know, Mason,” I snap. “I’m just taking this one day at a time, okay?”

“You don’t have an end goal?”

“Um, no,” I shake my head. “Doyouhave an end goal?”

“Sure,” he nods, moving out from behind the tree trunk and crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s real simple. Fuck you as many times as you’ll let me, before you decide to go crawling back to your asshole of an ex. I’m just trying to figure out if that’s happening right now, and if I should be finding different sleeping arrangements.”

“He’s not an asshole.”

“Fine,” Mason throws up his hands. “The brilliant doctor who’s sweet as sugar and doesn’t know jack shit about the real you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, I get it,” Mason says, hands still in the air as he steps back. “I’m the fake boyfriend. I get the real you because I’m disposable. I’m the pawn.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, jetting forward and pressing my hands to his chest. “We’re friends. It’s different.” I slide my hands up to his shoulders where they’re bunched in knots. “Look, why don’t we stop talking about this?”

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