Page 97 of Gin and Lava

I click the button on the mattress and it starts to inflate. The rush of air blowing through the pump is loud, and I nod to the bed, indicating it’s hard to hear him. I use the time to decide if I should ask Sam what bothers him more: the coarseness of Mason, or that I have a fiancé at all.

Sam’s jaw grinds with impatience. I hope he doesn’t look at his patients like that when he doesn’t get his way. I force myself to stand proudly in his glower, but Viking Princess or not, it’s hard to keep my chin high. All my instincts are itching to turn off the air pump and give him the attention he wants.

When the bed is fully inflated, I click off the pump and grab a sheet. “Mason’s working,” I say without any ire, doing my best to ignore Sam’s need to bait me.

“You’re really in love with this man?” Sam replies, and our eyes collide.

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

Whywould I be in love with someone like Mason?

It’s a hard question, because I’m not in love with Mason. I know everything Mason says causes everyone to stare at me like I’m out of my mind. And the truth is, I feel out of my mind when it’s only Mason and me—out of my body, out of everything I’m always trying to be. But he and I don’t live in a vacuum. I have to answer for Mason in the real world, and choosing him is a reflection on me. And from Sam’s face, it’s not a good one.

I’ve lowered myself.

“Last I checked, it wasn’t any of your business who I’m with,” I deflect.

“I care about you, Naomi.” Sam steps closer, his brown eyes softening. “Even if I don’t get to be with you, I still care that you’re taken care of.”

My throat goes tight.Even if he doesn’t get to be with me?What’s that supposed to mean?Hechose not to be with me.

“I’m too needy, remember?” I snip, referencing our breakup. I hate how my voice has turned hoarse, revealing how quickly I can be gutted like a fish. “I wastooin love.Toomuch for you and your job.Toomuch everything.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Sam shakes his head, touching my elbow softly and making the organ in my chest sputter.

“You don’t get to say you care about me anymore,” I assert, clutching the sheet when I should be removing his hand.

But I’m weak.

I miss his touch. I miss us.

“You were in love with me,” Sam agrees, nodding. “So how could you possibly be engaged only six months later?” That hand slides to my shoulder. “Your heart doesn’t throw away things that quickly.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and stare at him. His hand is a brand on my arm, his words a brand on my heart. My lungs are heavy, and I’m not sure if I’m still breathing.

Is this what love does? Does it knock all the air out of you when it’s spoken? Does it rake through your system and leave you burning with pain and emotion? Broken hearts do that—I know that part for sure.

Iwasin love with Sam, that’s true.Was.Past tense. Is it so hard for him to fathom that I may have thrown away my broken heart, too? It’s too late for him to care about my broken parts and whether Mason’s the right man to mend those scars.

Scars Sam left me.

And yet, that hand on my arm … that concern in his voice …

“You don’t get to tell me about my heart,” I say weakly, flipping out the sheet and unfurling it. The motion dislodges his hand as I turn back to my work. “You decided you didn’t want my heart, Sam. So you don’t get a say in what I do with it afterwards.”

“You’re not in love with him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Sam asserts, grabbing the sheet and turning me to face him again. “I can see it on your face. I know what you look like when you’re in love, and you don’t look at him that way.”

I lift my chin up defiantly. “You’re reading too much into this. Now please move, so I can finish making this bed.”

“I’m not moving until you admit you still have feelings for me.”

I yank the sheet out of his hand. “That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? For me to still be pining over you. For me to get on my knees and beg for you to take me back!”

“You wouldn’t get this riled up if you didn’t still have feelings,” Sam says, an edge of ivy league condescension in his tone.

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