Page 156 of Gin and Lava

Mason:Cause I can’t make a dirty joke around you without wanting to do it.

Naomi:How’s that any different than before?

Mason:Before …

Again, there’s a long wait, and I wipe off my windshield to distract myself.

Mason:Look, before I knew I didn’t have a chance. I still don’t have a chance, but I’ve tasted the cocktail, Princess. Give a guy some space to move on.

My insides squirm. Why is Mason being so damn gentlemanly about this? He should be pissed. I led him on—obviously. I’m the shit head. He should be a raging ball of anger, and he’s being so sweet it makes my insides ache.

Naomi:You’re being way too sweet about this.

Mason:Looks like being sweet is my Achilles heel.

Naomi:Look at you, using a fancy allusion.

Mason:That wasn’t a magic trick.

Naomi:Allusion not illusion. It’s a reference to … you know what, never mind.

Mason:Now you’re catching on. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Naomi:I guess. Thanks again for the website and for contacting Esme.

Mason:Of course. You deserve the world.

That one hits hard too. I don’t feel like I deserve any of it, especially his kindness. He’s gone out of his way to make my jewelry dreams come true, and what did I give him? A fake relationship.

I shake my head, nothing about Mason was fake. He believed in me every second of the way. He touched me like I was the most perfect woman in the world. He treated me like a goddess.

And I …

I’m the bitch who used him and liked the attention.

I’m the one who’s fake.

51

NAOMI

The sun is shining again when I pull up to the beach house. Monsoons come and go in Hawaii, and as the locals like to joke: there are two things you’ll see every day on the island—sunshine and rain. So, look for rainbows!

I’m rainbow-less and drenched, shivering despite the sun as I walk into the living room to get the final load of wedding party suitcases.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam leans against the kitchen counter on his phone, tucking the device in his back pocket when he sees me. “Did you get caught in a monsoon?”

I nod, and Sam shoots off his stool to hand me a towel. After thanking him, I look around and realize his suitcases are the only ones left waiting for transportation.

“It’s just you?” I ask. “You didn’t bring your car?”

“I was hoping we could talk,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and walking closer to me. “I’ve said some things about you and your—”

“If this is about Mason,” I interrupt, “I don’t want to hear it! Not that any of it matters, because we’re not together any—”

I cut myself off, and Sam’s eyes widen.

“Wait.” Sam’s head cocks to the side. “Did you and Mason break up?”

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