Page 165 of Gin and Lava

I hope Naomi’s happy with Sam. Now that she’s fessed up to who she really is, I hope they can find some common ground and start over. Maybe he’ll even be nicer to her. Fuck, he better be. She’s smarter than to go back to him if he didn’t grovel like a beast at her feet.

“Mason!”

That’s my imagination, because Naomi doesn’t run after me. I run after her. That’s just how my world works. I’m the peon. She’s the queen.

“Mason, wait! Where are you going?”

I turn down the aisle toward my car when—Smack!—something hits me square in the back. And sunburn from Hell, it fucking hurts!

I swing around to see Naomi limping toward me missing a shoe, and on the asphalt at my feet is one of her designer heels.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, pointing to the heel on the ground. “Isn’t that worth two hundred dollars or something?”

Naomi shifts her weight onto her shoe-less foot and tears off the other heel, throwing it at me with the same aim and precision as the first.

“Jesus!” I lift my hands up just in time to keep from being stabbed in the eye by a stiletto. Naomi’s not going to stab me in the back with a metaphorical knife, oh no, she’s going to Viking Princess my face with four-inch heels.

“I will fuck you up with fashion if I have to, Haas!” she growls, and damn if she isn’t hot when she’s angry.

“I know I tease you about being violent, Princess, but I don’t actuallywantyou to be violent.” I pick up the shoes and hold them like weapons, heel forward, in case she takes that mud-pit wrestling joke from earlier to heart and decides to throw down. “Let a guy walk out with some damn grace!”

“No!” she snaps, marching up to me barefoot. “You walked out on me once already, and that’s not how this is going down!”

“I didn’t drink any champagne at this wedding. I don’t need a ride home. Plus, you’ve got Sam to—”

“Jesus Christ, Mason, would you shut up!” Naomi grabs one of the shoes from my hands and now we’re both armed.

I step into an offensive posture. “I’d like to remind you that I know Aikido,” I warn. “I’m not above disarming you. I don’t care how hot that dress is. I will drop you in the dirt and ruin it.”

Naomi grabs the other shoe from my hand and throws them both on the ground, effectively breaking one of the heels.

“Another two hundred dollars down the drain,” I quip.

“I’m not getting back together with Sam!” Naomi snaps, ignoring my comment.

“You told him we were fake.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “But I didn’t tell him that because I want him back. I told him because I need to stop lying about everything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” she grumbles, glaring at me. “And the crazy part is when I finally told him the truth—about me and my family and the beach house—he couldn’t believe it. Or he didn’twantto believe it.” She throws her hands in the air, talking animatedly. “And that’s when it hit me, Mason. Therealfake relationship was with him. Nothing between Sam and me was real. It was all based on lies. I thought I loved him, but really, I loved what I thought we were, what I thought we could be. We both had this fantasy and it was bullshit.”

The sky is vibrant blue behind her, making her glow like the goddess she is. I’m glad she’s finally standing in her power.

“Good.” I nod. “You deserve better. You deserve something that’s not based on lies and manipulation. With him. With me. You need a clean slate. Turn over a new leaf, or whatever the stupid saying is.”

“Except, it wasn’t like that with you, Mason.”

“Basing a relationship on a lie?” I scoff, turning to my car and getting out my keys. “Why don’t you quit while you’re ahead, Princess.”

“Yes, we lied about beingina relationship, Mason. But I didn’t lie about who I was when I was with you. We had … we were … we …” She trips over her words, quieting and pleading with me with her eyes. But I’ve seen her do this. I’ve seen her unable to defendus.

Because there isn’t anus.

That’s the truth her silence says nice and loud.

“So you’ve been in two fake relationships now, Naomi,” I point out, opening my car door. “You don’t have to run after me in the parking lot in some 80s rom-com grand gesture to tell me you’re figuring your shit out. It’s good that you talked to Sam, and it’s good that you’re telling the truth to everyone. But you don’t owe me anything. You were clear about our arrangement from the beginning. And yes, I’m the dick who crashed Shauri’s wedding and made this confusing. I’m sorry about that.” I motion to the resort. “You can blame Esme for meddling, but honestly, I blame myself for being the sucker who always wants to hope when it comes to you. Obviously, I’ve got my own shit to figure out.” I motion between us. “We both let this go on too long. And your silence a second ago, that says everything you need to. It always has. So let’s just … let it go. Letusgo, or whatever. Okay?”

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