Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men, #1)

His smile was so fresh and alive, it sparked a piece of life back into me, something that had wilted in the past few days without a good dose of him around.

I still couldn’t believe Mason was here, across the table from me, being my friend again. Without saying one sarcastic comment, I slid what was left of my mini bag of potato chips across the table to him, since I had finished all I was going to eat, and I probably would’ve offered him one of my most cherished lattes at this point because I was so thrilled he was here.

He nodded in approval and snagged my chip bag. “Nacho cheese. Nice.” As he pulled out a handful, he glanced at me. “Turn in your English paper yet?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Oh, so you care about my English paper today, huh?”

His shoulders slumped. “Reese. Come on. I’m sorry I said that to you at the party. I was in a mood.” He set his hand over his heart and sent me a pout of sincere apology. “I care about everything you do.”

I groaned to cover the whimper of melting emotions. “Okay, enough already. The bullshit around here is getting too deep to wade through.”

“What?” He had the gall to look offended. “I’m serious.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. So let me guess. Your landlady still thinks you and I are riding the baby-making train together, doesn’t she?”

With a sigh, he dusted the nacho cheese dust off his fingers. “Pretty much.”

“Wow.” I sighed as if ashamed of Mrs. Garrison for her prejudiced opinion. “Why is it so hard for people to think we’re just friends?”

Mason studied me a moment, his expression probing and indistinguishable, before he gave a non-answer shrug. I could tell he didn’t want to discuss the topic.

“She insulted me when she had you cornered at Sarah’s birthday party, didn’t she?”

“Yep.” This time, his distraction tactic was to open his bag and pull out my copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban, which I’d left with Sarah a week ago.

Snapping my fingers, I crowed. “I knew it! Typical, petty, jealous move. What’d she say? She said I have a big butt, didn’t she?”

Rolling his eyes, Mason muffled out his answer from a full mouth. “She did not say you have a big butt. Trust me, your butt is…perfect.”

I swallowed. Then swallowed again. I don’t know why his compliments totally came at me from left field. He gave me plenty of them. Still, I was never prepared for the impact his flattering words wrought.

Not quite sure how to respond, I waved my hand and kept talking about Mrs. Garrison, because I felt petty and jealous myself. “Then what did she say about me?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye as he tipped the bottom of the chip bag up to make sure he had freed every last crumb. “Don’t worry about it.”

My mouth fell open. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”

What the heck had that evil cougar said? I knew I wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But I couldn’t think of any of my body parts that were so abnormal that Mason couldn’t divulge her insult.

He sent me a warning frown, asking me to drop it.

So not going to happen.

“Come on,” I pressed. “Just tell me. I’ll be your best friend.” I fluttered my lashes.

He rolled his eyes. “You already are my best friend.”

I was? I straightened, alarmed, flattered, and extremely touched. Aww…another unprepared compliment. I blossomed with delight. “Well…thank you. But as my new bestie, you’re now obligated to tell me what she said.”

“Reese,” he groaned.

My alarm grew. “Oh, my God. How bad was it?”

“It wasn’t even true. So…just drop it. Please.”

Oh, hell, no. “If it wasn’t true, then why can’t you tell—”

“Fine. She said you were an attention seeker. Okay? She said you were stealing the limelight away from Sarah on her own birthday, which wasn’t—”

“Oh, my God. Did I?” I set my hand over my chest, where an acute ache had started.

I couldn’t believe that witch. She’d just totally broken jealous girl code number one. When insulting the other woman, you went after her looks…not her personality. God. What a nasty blow below the belt.

Her dirty tactics had definitely done the job though. I felt awful.

Well played, skanky pimp landlady, well played.

But I’d only acted so out there at the party to help ease the awkwardness. I’d wanted to show the other girls how sweet, and loveable, and fun Sarah was. I’d been trying to place the attention on her, not steal it from her.

“No!” Mason broke in emphatically. “I told you, what she said wasn’t true.”

“But—”

“Listen to me.” He leaned partially over the table to look me straight in the eye. “Before you showed up on Sunday, my sister was absolutely miserable. The next morning, she said it was the best birthday she’d ever had. And that was because of you, got it? You made those other girls interact with her. And now, that tall one, Sorcha, she’s even coming back on Saturday afternoon to spend the day with Sarah.”