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ANYA

EVEN WITH MY EYES CLOSED, I can see the vibrant flash of coloured lights throughout the room. Long slender arms wrap around my waist. I shimmy down Cami’s body, bounce a few times, and slide back up.

I’ve been fighting off the flashbacks tearing through my mind. Me dancing, Mason nearby, those whisky eyes boring into mine. The way his mouth moved against my lips so passionately, so hungrily. Shaking the thoughts away, I desperately try to focus on the reality I’m in now, rather than the moments my mind is begging me to revisit.

A loud whistle draws my attention to a guy in the corner of the room. He has champagne-blond hair and an arrogant smirk twisted onto his lips. He is tall and packed with muscle, so I assume he is part of the football team. He beckons me over with his fingers, but I pretend I don’t see it. I don’t have the energy to deal with boys tonight. Instead, I turn and reach for Nora, pulling her close. We move to the beat. The bass is so loud the walls shake. The rational part of my brain is concerned about the neighbours, but the other part of me just wants to let loose and have fun.

A succession of vibrations against my thigh makes me pause and fish for my phone. When I pull it out, I see Dylan’s name across the screen. I frown at it, the alcohol making my thoughts slow. The screen goes black.

A moment later, it’s ringing again. Ignoring the call, I shove the phone back into my pocket, but the warm buzz I was feeling a moment ago has dimmed. My stomach churns as his face flashes through my mind. I can’t believe they did that to me. My boyfriend and my best friend ...

‘I’m getting a drink!’ I shout to the girls, holding up my now-empty cup. They both nod.

Instead of heading to the kitchen, I rush up the stairs. I pause when I see my door, which was closed, slightly ajar. Stalking towards it, I pull it open to see two guys bent over my dresser. One of them steps away and tilts his head back, a finger pressed against one side of his nose.

‘Get out of my room,’ I snap, grinding my molars together when I see they’ve knocked over some of my photo frames.

They both startle and turn to face me, one of them holding a rolled up note in his hand.

‘Sorry,’ the other says, sniffing and rubbing the back of his hand across his face. ‘Just borrowing the space for a minute. Want one?’

‘No, I want you to get out,’ I say through gritted teeth, a headache starting to form behind my eyes. I might bring up all the alcohol I consumed this afternoon, which is a sight I don’t want anyone to witness.

They don’t argue. They step around me and, seconds later, Mason barges into my room, as if he has the right to be in here. He lost that long ago, although he seems to be forgetting the way he left things with us.

‘Why are two guys leaving your room?’ he demands, a muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes dart around, inspecting my bed before jumping back to me and narrowing a little, even though the bed is neat and tidy, unchanged from when I made it this morning.

Groaning, I turn my back to him. ‘Stop stalking me.’

‘I’m not stalking you,’ he scoffs.

‘Seems like it,’ I mutter.

My phone vibrates again. I look down at it and ice fills my veins. Dylan sent through a message. A single word.

Dylan: Slut.

A cold, numb feeling spreads through me. I don’t know why I haven’t blocked his number. He never has anything nice to say.

A part of me has been worried about what Mason said to Dylan when we saw him at the club. Dylan has this delusion that Mason and I were up to no good together while I was with him, and the other night Mason basically admitted that was true. It wasn’t – Mason wasn’t even in the country when Dylan and I dated – but with what he said, I’m sure Dylan has twisted it in his mind and convinced himself he’s the victim here. He’s exceptional at that. It would explain the sudden calls and texts from him, but I could be completely wrong with that theory. I don’t want to think about any of it. I don’t want Dylan in my life at all.

‘What?’ Mason asks, noticing the colour draining from my face.

Closing my eyes, I lean back against the wall, feeling like all the energy in my body has suddenly evaporated.

My phone is yanked from my hand, and my eyes pop open to see Mason glowering at it, as if it’s personally responsible for the message it’s displaying.

‘Obviously he didn’t learn his lesson,’ he grounds out, looking furious.

‘Seems that way.’

‘You know he’s full of shit, right?’

‘Right,’ I reply, but my voice betrays me, coming out as deflated as I feel.

Concern fills Mason’s face, and he steps towards me. ‘Don’t let him get to you, Blush. You’re better than him and he hates it. He knows he isn’t going to get someone like you again, so he needs to tear you down to his level.’

‘Yeah,’ I murmur, looking at my feet. ‘I’m sure that’s it.’

His finger presses underneath my chin, forcing my gaze to his. ‘You’re an extraordinary person, Blush. Don’t let anyone ever convince you otherwise.’

His words warm my heart, but I struggle to draw breath under the intensity of his gaze. If he truly thinks that, then he would have given into this thing between us long ago, saving us both the longing and torture we’ve been enduring for years. But the damage is done, and there is no going back.

But he steps closer, and my thoughts become more and more cloudy by the second.

There is no going back to how we once were. Right?

‘Hey, I have an idea,’ he murmurs, and I blink back to reality, that stunning face only inches from me. He brings my phone up to face level with the camera open. He steps behind me, pressing my back to his chest. He wraps his arm around me, so that his forearm is resting against my throat. I watch through the front-facing camera, curl my fingers around his arm, and look back over my shoulder at him. I hear the distinct click of the camera going off.

Glancing back at the photo, I see him smirking. My insides coil. This photo is the exact representation of my relationship with Mason: me adoring him – it’s so damn obvious, written across my face in bold lettering – and him being his usual, cocky self, treating this as a game. I watch as he presses send. Within seconds, we see Dylan’s read receipt. Usually, I would never encourage something like this, but Dylan hurt me so badly and so viciously, I don’t care if it makes him sad or angry to think of me with someone else. Especially Mason, who was always a major threat and argument-starter in our relationship. What Dylan and my best friend did to me was much worse.

Wordlessly, I pull my phone from his hand and shove it back into my pocket.

‘Hopefully that shuts him up,’ he says, pushing a hand through his dark hair, looking completely unfazed, as usual.

I say nothing. The scent of him lingers around me. It’s somehow comforting and discomforting at the same time. Longing and love mixed with heartbreak.

‘It’s because of that night, isn’t it?’ Mason’s voice drops low as a pained expression settles across his face.

The fierceness of his gaze is so strong, I feel it like a physical touch. I keep my eyes trained on a spot on the wall above his shoulder, refusing to return his stare.

‘It’s why you don’t want to be around me.’

I can barely make him out over the loud beat of my heart in my ears. My chest is rising quickly, as if I’m short of breath.

‘Admit it, Anya.’

‘Yes,’ I mutter through clenched teeth.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers. His voice breaks and it hurts to hear. I harden my jaw to the point that it’s painful. Tears betray me and burn my eyes, but I hold on tight, determined to push them away. ‘I didn’t know how to handle everything. I was a coward.’

My face crumples and I roll my lips into my mouth, biting down hard to stop myself reacting.

‘I know this doesn’t make it right,’ he says softly, his fingers threading through the dark strands of my hair. ‘But I need you to know.’

‘It’s too late.’ My voice cracks and I close my eyes, wincing.

‘I know,’ he murmurs, his fingernails scraping gently across my scalp. Unintentionally, I tilt my head back into his touch. ‘But I want you to know I think about it all the time , and I regret every minute of it.’

I inhale sharply. ‘You regret every minute?’

The pressure of his fingers deepens, and I groan slightly at the feel of his hand working through my hair. He slides his fingers down the back of my neck, then traces a line between my shoulder blades.

‘I don’t regret you.’ His mouth is suddenly against my ear, his hand travelling lower down my back. ‘I only regret myself. My actions. My behaviour.’ His breath is hot on my skin. ‘Never you, Blush.’

I should move away. Push his hand off me. But I’m frozen. His words wrap around me, the warmth of his hand searing through the thin fabric of my dress.

‘I have to go,’ I say thickly. ‘Back to my friends.’

He turns me, cupping my face in his palms. ‘Don’t hate me, Blush. I can’t handle it.’

Slowly, I let my eyes flutter open. Those gorgeous eyes stare back at me, framed by long, dark lashes.

‘I could never actually hate you,’ I whisper. ‘No matter how hard I try.’

When the last of the party-goers stumble from the house towards their Uber, I sag against the wall. I had a lot of fun with my new friends. We talked a lot, laughed loudly, danced until our feet hurt – and I had the best time doing it. I haven’t felt this connected to friends in what feels like a lifetime.

Avoiding Mason was extremely difficult when his mission was to find me. I appreciate what he said to me, and his apology. I do truly think he regrets what happened, but it doesn’t change the fact that it did happen.

Pulling out the piece of paper in my pocket, I stare at the digits scrawled across it. Kai Adams – total playboy and charmer – spent most of his time trying to get my attention. I finally relented towards the end and danced with him. He left with a kiss to my hand and his number in my pocket. The last thing I want right now is a new relationship – if that’s even what he’s looking for. If he only wants a hook-up, then I’m not the girl for him. I’ve never been able to casually date.

‘What’s that?’

I jump in surprise at the deep voice. Forcing out a harsh exhale, I shrug. The effects of the alcohol are still in my system, but I’m feeling partly sober now. ‘Nothing.’

‘That better not be what I think it is,’ he warns. Mason folds his arms across his chest. His biceps bulge as he does, but I don’t let myself enjoy the view. The way he stalked around the party with stormy eyes once he saw me dancing with Kai was almost comical. I must have forgotten the part where what I do impacts him.

‘Stop,’ I glare at him. ‘Stop with this overprotective, possessive bullshit. I’m not a kid anymore, you have no right to dictate anything in my life.’

‘Don’t call him.’

‘Are you listening to me?’ I ask in exasperation.

‘I’m serious,’ Mason bites back. ‘This isn’t about me. This is about him. He’s not a nice guy, and you need to be careful.’

Making fists of my hands at my sides, I even out my breathing before I cause a scene and alert my brother to our argument. Twisting on my heel, I march up the stairs. His footsteps follow me, so I walk faster.

I stride into my room and slam the door. I hear it bang against his hand as he throws it back open.

‘Fuck off ,’ I snarl through gritted teeth. ‘I mean it, Mason.’

He’s suddenly right in front of me. He gently pushes me so that my back hits the wall. I inhale so sharply I nearly choke. He wedges his knee between mine, holding me in place. His fingers dig into my pocket and pull out the piece of paper.

‘This isn’t a I-can’t-have-her-so-no-one-can thing,’ he growls, the heat of his skin searing against mine. ‘I’m doing what’s best for you.’

‘You have no right to pick and choose what’s best for me!’

He steps back and rips the piece of paper in two. My jaw drops as I gape at him. Without breaking eye contact, he crumples the paper in his palm.

‘You’re such an asshole,’ I seethe.

‘I’m warning you, Blush,’ he says. ‘Don’t talk to him.’

‘I’ve changed my mind; I do fucking hate you,’ I whisper, furious tears welling in my eyes. I don’t even know why I’m upset, it’s not like I’m head over heels for the guy I met tonight, but Mason always brings out the worst in my emotions. He makes me feel too much, too intensely.

The left side of his mouth tilts upward. His gaze drops to my lips. ‘We both know you don’t.’