Page 84 of Gin and Lava

“No.” I’m a broken record. IwishI owned something that valuable. “It’s my aunt’s beach house,” I explain. “It’s myrichaunt’s beach house. And my mom … well, she and my aunt don’t talk anymore. For good reason, my mom’s not the nicest, or the most responsible person. I’ve been paying her bills since I was in high school, so …”

I look at Mason defiantly, my jaw locking as my heart hammers in my chest. I’ve never told anyone that. Nobody knows about my mom, except for those back in Texas. I brace myself for the look of pity, or the awkward fumbling when someone doesn’t know what to say and can’t relate. I’ve seen that look on Sam’s face—not pointed at me, but at others—at the hospital or a charity event. He’s charismatic until faced with someone who didn’t grow up like him.

I never dared to tell Sam about my mother.

“Wow,” Mason says quietly.

I nod, knowing the awkwardness is coming. Mason glances at the table again, scanning the incriminating pile of bills.

“That’s kind of awesome,” Mason says, and I do a double take. Wait—? What?

“No, it’s not,” I say, shaking my head. “It sucks.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Mason counters. “I mean, I don’t know what the deal is with your mom, and what’s happening there. Maybe that part sucks. What’s awesome is that you love her enough to take care of her.You’reawesome, that’s what I meant.”

“Oh,” I say, not looking at him. “I mean, I have to. She’s my mom.”

“No, you don’t,” Mason says. “You’re an adult. She’s an adult. It’s not like you’re responsible for her life choices. The point is you actually want to, because you care.”

“I guess,” I say weakly, dropping the envelopes on the table again. “I’m pissed at her. I wish she’d just clean up her act and get a job, you know? But she doesn’t. She finds some guy to hook up with, and he pays for her life for a while—that’s how it was my whole childhood. But these days, when the cowboy-of-the-month walks out … I’m the one who can’t sayno. My aunt used to step in and help, probably because I was a minor. But she refuses to help anymore. She saysI’m enabling her. Which of course I am, because she’s my mom. I can’t let her sit in a trailer park and rot.”

Tears prick at the back of my eyes. Suddenly, I can taste the smell of smoke in the back of my throat, along with the dingy old-couch smell from the sofa she never vacuumed. I can imagine my mother in her bathrobe playing solitaire on her phone, swallowed in that couch, cracker crumbs and fruit loops in the dips of the cushions. I turn away from Mason, not expecting the surge of emotion.Thisis why I don’t tell anyone about my mother. It’s too personal. Too raw. It’s better to let everyone think I’m some spoiled rich kid with a beach bungalow in Hawaii and tons of cash to spare.

Mason’s arms wrap around my shoulders from behind, and he pulls me against his chest. It threatens to tear a sob from my throat, but I don’t let it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, biting back the lump in my throat. “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. It’s not a big deal. I’ve been paying my mom’s bills my whole adult life. It’s normal.”

He kisses my ear. “It’s not normal,” he says quietly. “It’s you being an awesome human being.”

“Right, I just—” He squeezes me tighter and the pressure feels like a vice, threatening to let all the things I don’t talk about free. “I’m not broken, Mason. I’m not a sob case you need to fix.”

“I know,” he agrees. “I said you were amazing. That’s it. You, Naomi Tate, are amazing.”

“You’re being too nice,” I complain, leaning back into him, knowing it’s indulgent.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I turn into some nice, sweet, asshole of a gentleman when I’m around you,” he scoffs, like it grosses him out too. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still taking my clothes off in a second and you’re going to massage my naked body like there’s no tomorrow. But right now, I just want you to know it’s cool that you look after your mom.”

“Yeah. Way too nice, Haas,” I agree.

“Point is you don’t have to lie to me. I didn’t grow up with money either,” he says. “Sure, I’ve got a perpetual hard-on for the Voss brothers who were nice enough to treat me as a friend when I clearly came from the wrong side of town. I’ve had to work for everything I have, too. Granted, I’m not going to go gaga over chandeliers and galaxy dresses, but I sure as shit am not going to make you feel bad about where you’ve come from. Or the fact that you’re working your ass off to help those who can’t help themselves.”

“What about too nice don’t you understand, Haas?” I grind out, hating that everything he says makes me breathe easier. “You’re seriously ruining your reputation right now.”

“Fuck,” he curses in agreement, but then he nuzzles his head against my cheek. “But admit it, the sensitive bitch version of me turns you on, doesn’t it? You’re like super wet because I switched on the nice-guy vibe.”

I turn around to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Kind of,” I admit.

“You want to sit on my face and prove it?”

I laugh. “I don’t think that will prove you’re a nice guy.”

“But it helps with the reputation part, doesn’t it?” His eyes flick suggestively to my pants.

“You’renaked for this massage, Mason. Not me.”

“Hmmmmm,” Mason pretends to decide if he’s still interested in a massage, then breaks away from me and bee-lines it to my massage table, losing his shirt and slacks as he goes. He turns back to me in boxers and socks, and points at the table. “Face down with my ass hanging out, or—?”

I laugh. “Face down,underthe sheet,” I correct.

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