Page 76 of Gin and Lava

I stiffen, his presence making all of my muscles tighten. It’s unnatural to look at that much perfection—beauty that’s able to turn heads, including mine.

He oncewasmine, and I messed it up.

A fist of regret punches into my throat, and I feel Mason’s hand tighten on my waist. Suddenly, I wish Mason wasn’t here, and I could experience this moment with Sam alone: him and me and this Andromeda dress—which he’s noticed, because his eyes are intensely sweeping up it.

“Um, hi,” I say awkwardly, extracting myself from Mason. “Sam, it’s good to see you.” I step up to him and hesitate, not sure if we’re supposed to hug or shake hands or just nod politely.

“Naomi,” he says my name like he used to, like it’s the most comfortable thing to come out of his mouth, and, pushing through my awkwardness, he steps forward and wraps me in a hug. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” I say sheepishly, feeling my cheeks flush as his arms curl around my shoulders. He smells like a fresh shower and cologne, but under it is the slight hint of antiseptic from the hospital, that familiar medical smell that never fully leaves his skin. I’d forgotten how strong his arms could feel around me. The confidence with which he hugs me is startling—as if it hasn’t been six months, and he still knows every nook and cranny of my body.

Sam pulls back and looks me over again, his brown eyes sparkling. He exudes a magnetism that’s hard to ignore. When his eyes are on you, you feel like you’re the whole world.

“It’s, uh,” I stammer, nodding down to the dress. “It’s an Andromeda.”

Sam’s face lights up. “Impressive.” Sam knows designers. Sam cares about looking good, which is obvious from every perfectly placed hair on his head. “Gosh, it’s good to see you,” he admits. “Work’s been crazy, like always, but we really shouldn’t have waited so long to see each other again. You were always so stunning.”

A balloon fills in my chest. I know flattery shouldn’t make up for how he ultimately made me feel so small. But somehow, he also makes me feel like a star, like the perfect woman he wants on his arm.

“Yeah, but—” Mason’s voice cuts into the beam of connection between Sam and I. “Naomi’s better looking naked, don’t you think?”

Sam practically chokes, doing a double take as he turns to the man stepping up to us. “I’m sorry, what?” Sam balks.

“A high-priced piece of fabric,” Mason says, gesturing to my designer gown. “It doesn’t do her justice. I mean, she looks much better when that thing is on the ground, am I right?” Mason throws out a hand for Sam to shake. “Hi, I’m Mason. I’m the asshole shtupping your ex.”

Sam’s eyes cut to me, wondering if this is a joke.

I knew Mason would be brash. I knew he’d say something like this, but somehow it still feels wildly uncomfortable in front of Sam. Sam who expects me to be a demure princess, the save-me-from-this-heathen type with her sparkly phone, and designer dress, and hair curled to perfection. I’m not the kind of woman who’d date a man whose opening line is praising how I look naked.

A piece of me wants to bail on this fake boyfriend scheme. It was fun in theory, but in reality a part of me is panicking. Only, Sam walked up while Mason and I were kissing, so even if I wanted to pretend I didn’t know Mason, his tongue was definitely just down my throat. Am I really so weak that I’ll give up after one compliment from my ex?

This was the plan. Mason was the plan. He’s blasphemous. He’s unexpected. And heck, I can be hot-as-fuck in my designer dress (or naked), and make Sam’s brain explode with how completely impossible this is.

“You’re ridiculous!” I say to Mason, because I’m supposed to be myself. I’m supposed to be honest. “That’s the worst way to introduce yourself.”

I smack Mason playfully on the chest, and he grabs my hand, giving me a smug look. It’s a look that promises thatwashim being tame. He could’ve opened with how hot it was to watch me bounce on his cock after the wedding.

I squeeze his hand to sayjust play along.

“Sam,” I say, turning back to my ex while I’m still holding Mason’s hand. “This is Mason, my boyfriend.” Sam’s eyes cut to Mason like he’s a rattlesnake I’ve innocently picked up not knowing it’s dangerous.

“Boyfriend?” Sam echoes, the word uncomfortable in his mouth. If I’d said blind date, or hook-up, or guy I met at the gym—those are all words that would make sense to Sam. But boyfriend? That’s far more permanent.

“I’m sure Shauri told you I had a plus one for the wedding,” I say sweetly. “You’re in her wedding party and all. It’s not like you guys don’t talk.”

Sam frowns. That was a dig for sure. But if I’m being myself, the truth is it’s weird they’ve become so close. Shauri was originally my friend.

“Um, she uh—” Sam mumbles, which is not like him. He’s always doing the verbal-hula around everyone, and it feels good to know I’ve flustered him. “She mentioned you were bringing someone,” he grumbles, looking to Mason again, and I can tell he’s trying to figure out how I’m withthisguy.

“Oh, I’m not just someone,” Mason interjects, wrapping an arm around my waist and staking his claim. “I’m not even just the boyfriend anymore. I’m the fiancé.”

Sam’s mouth literally drops open.

If this was a movie, the special effects people would be animating Sam’s head exploding.

I was going to wait till Shauri and the rest of the wedding party were here for that bombshell, but the look on Sam’s face is priceless. In fact, it feels so damn good to be the one who’s pulling the rug out from under his feet.

That’s right, Sam, you dropped me like it’s hot, and I went out and found my future husband. What did you expect? Were you planning to come to dinner and find me fawning over you? Begging to have you back? Sorry, but I’m a Viking Princess now, and it’s Mason’s massive cock that’s satisfying me.

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