Page 5

5

MASON

T he scent of coffee and cinnamon wrapped around me as I stood in the kitchen. I’d slept like shit after coming home from Kai’s and had gotten up early, too exhausted to try forcing more rest. The dreams hadn’t been worth it anyway.

I’d made fresh cinnamon rolls, trying to bake the frustration and worry out of my system. I wasn’t sure it had helped, but at least Dana’s house smelled good now. I’d brewed a pot of coffee, too, and poured some into a mug shaped like a panda munching on a stalk of bamboo. Because nothing said hardened ex-Marine like sipping extremely milky coffee out of a cartoon panda's head.

Soft morning light streamed through the windows on either side of the room, painting the pale wooden floorboards gold. The east wall was a bright, sunny yellow. The west one was covered in green and purple paisley wallpaper that I tried not to look at too hard. Not exactly my aesthetic, but Dana didn’t seem to mind.

She mostly used the kitchen for storage anyway, and not the kind that made sense. Every flat surface, plus half the floor, was piled with spare computer parts. It wasn’t enough for her to be a tech genius at work—she had to build little robots in her spare time like a mad scientist. One of them had nearly blinded me in the shower last week as it attempted to wash my hair.

Even the coffee pot was her invention. She’d wired up an old French press that ran electronically now—but only if you controlled it with a full-sized keyboard. Completely unnecessary, but it did give a chipper little ding when it was done. When I suggested maybe we didn’t need a coffee machine with literal bells and whistles, Dana had looked at me like I’d kicked a kitten.

I shook my head and closed my eyes, trying to focus on the peace of the moment.

But the second I did, I saw Kai’s eyes instead.

They’d haunted me all night. In dreams that twisted and turned, shifting between nightmares and memories I couldn’t always distinguish.

Some dreams had been horrifying—Kai crumpling to the ground in the theater lobby, screaming in pain, his hands slick with blood. He’d died in my arms more than once. Still and cold, staring at me like I’d failed him.

Others were sad. Dreams of high school, the two of us younger. I dreamed Kai was in my math class—even though we weren’t in the same track. He teased me all period, gathered his friends to torment me, told me I was stupid and worthless until I ran out of the room, ready to cry.

And then there were the strange dreams of our empty high school turning into a maze I couldn’t escape, with Kai always ten steps behind me. Following. Watching. Judging.

I kept trying to tell myself I’d done the best I could last night. Kai had told me to leave. The only way I could’ve stayed was by forcing myself into his space, and that thought made my skin crawl.

I’d done my best—but once again, my best hadn’t been enough.

“Oooh, is that coffee I smell?” Dana wandered in, already dressed in a brown corduroy blazer with elbow patches and herringbone trousers that looked like they belonged in November, not this sticky heatwave of a day.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing her favorite mug from the cabinet, this one shaped like a giraffe, with its neck as the handle.

I poured her a cup and slid it across the counter. Unlike me, she drank it black. You’d look at us and think I was the tough one, but Dana had the taste buds of a junkyard dog. I smiled to myself, wondering what kind of coffee Bella would like.

“So I never got to talk to you last night,” she said, wrapping her hands around the mug. “How’d it go with the theater gig?”

I turned and studied her face, searching for sarcasm, but she looked genuinely curious.

“You seriously didn’t know it was Kai Jacinto who called?” I asked.

Her eyes flew open. “Wait, seriously? Like, Kai Jacinto from high school?”

“Yeah,” I said, a shiver running down my spine as I remembered the way Kai had looked at me. Like I was something stuck to his shoe. “How did you not know? Aren’t you supposed to vet the clients?”

She shrugged. “He used a different name. And since he wasn’t booking a date with one of the consultants, I didn’t run the same kind of background check on him.” She shook her head. “So I take it that it didn’t go well?”

“Uh, yeah. You could say that.” I took a sip of coffee and grimaced. Still too bitter, even after milk and sugar.

Dana snorted. “Honestly, I’m surprised he let you leave in one piece, after how you treated him. You should’ve been the one with the bodyguard.”

“Okay, someone needs to explain—” I started, but then the doorbell rang.

Because the house belonged to Dana, it didn’t have a regular doorbell. Of course not. Dana’s doorbell sounded like an ice cream truck playing Christmas songs in a minor key. It gave me the heebie-jeebies every time I heard it.

It was only—what, 8:30? Not exactly prime visitor hours. Probably a package delivery. Not wanting to give them a reason to ring it again, I headed for the front of the house, but before I’d made it halfway there, the door creaked open, and Amir’s voice called out, “Anyone home?”

“Back here,” Dana answered from the kitchen.

Amir met me in the dining room, and the look he shot me was anything but innocent. He grinned like it was his birthday and someone had bought him a pony—or maybe a stripper dressed like a pony.

“Somebody’s in trooouuble,” he sang.

“Tell me about it,” I said, leading him back to the kitchen.

I reached up and pulled down a third mug—this one shaped like a napping Arctic fox—and filled it up. Dana collected coffee mugs like some people collected parking tickets: obsessively, and with no visible shame.

“Ooh, coffee,” Amir said, taking it from me with grateful eyes. Then he grabbed one of the cinnamon rolls cooling on the wire rack, popped a piece in his mouth, and gave me a flirtatious flutter of his lashes. “And you baked? Darling, you shouldn’t have. Not for me, anyway. It’s Kai you need to suck up to.”

Dana shot him a look. “Did you know Mason and I knew Kai Jacinto?” she asked. “Is that why you recommended us to him?”

Amir, mid-chew, shoved another bite of cinnamon roll in his mouth, buying himself a few seconds.

“No idea. I swear. But damn.” He gave me a long, deliberate look. “Kai was pissed this morning that I didn’t mention your name when I recommended you guys. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” I gestured a little too hard and coffee sloshed out of my mug and onto my wrist. I licked at it awkwardly. “Not last night anyway. Not ever. But he acted like I’d murdered his parents or something. It was weird.”

“Are you serious?” Dana asked, raising a brow. She set her coffee down and reached for a cinnamon roll of her own, peeling off the outer edge like it was a fruit roll-up before pinching a piece into her mouth.

“Um, yeah?” I folded my arms across my chest, managing not to spill anything this time. I didn’t like the look she was giving me. “Why?”

“Because you made his life a living hell in high school. No wonder he wasn’t happy to see you.”

“I did not,” I said. “That’s ridiculous.”

Dana arched an eyebrow. “It’s the truth. Mason, I was there. I saw it. You can’t deny it. You were a dick to him for four years. More, if you count middle school.”

“I’m not denying it,” I said, my chest growing hot and tight. “I just—I mean, we weren’t close or anything, but you’re making it sound like I went out of my way to hurt him.”

She looked incredulous. “Mason, you did. Maybe it wasn’t always you personally. But the guys on the football team—Alex and Tyrell and Ravi? They would’ve done anything you told them to. And everyone knew you didn’t like Kai. Do you seriously not remember?”

I flushed. Dana looked completely serious, and I had no reason to doubt her. But when I tried to think back to high school, it was like trying to tune a static-filled radio station. Random scenes, a few whole days, maybe. But most of those years were a blur. I remembered emotions more than details—confusion, pressure, a constant ache I couldn’t identify.

I’d never been good in school, but sports had always given me something to hold onto. If you were athletic and good-looking—and yeah, I wasn’t going to lie to myself about that—people treated you like you mattered. Or at least, they pretended to. But when I thought about the guys I’d spent all that time with, my supposed best friends, all I felt was loneliness.

That’s what most of high school felt like to me. I’d been there, but not there . Physically present, but emotionally disconnected.

And Kai… Kai hovered at the edges of those memories. We didn’t share classes, but somehow, he was still in so many of my mental snapshots. I remembered his eyes—dark, intense. Like he was always watching me.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” I asked quietly.

Dana didn’t hesitate. “Mason, I used to lie and tell people I was adopted so they wouldn’t think I was related to you.”

That hit like a slap. I winced. “Really?”

We were twins. Different, sure, but we were supposed to have each other’s backs. I always had hers.

“I mean, it didn’t work.” She gave a humorless laugh. “But I tried for a couple years. I even went to Kai and apologized for you. Told him I’d try to get you to stop. He begged me not to. Said it’d only make things worse.”

I stared at her, heart sinking.

“But that’s not—I would’ve stopped,” I said. “If I’d known how much he disliked me.”

“He didn’t dislike you, Mason.” Her voice was quiet. “He was scared of you. He and I might have even been friends, if he hadn’t been so sure that would make you notice him more.”

She patted my shoulder. “Look, we were all figuring ourselves out back then. I’m not saying you’re a bad person. I’m just saying, it’s understandable Kai wasn’t thrilled to see you again last night.”

Amir, finishing off his cinnamon roll, licked a sprinkle of sugar from his fingers. “Dude, you never told me you were an asshole back in high school.”

“I didn’t…” I trailed off. I wanted to say I didn’t know, but was that even possible? I tried to picture Kai and me back in high school—tried to summon a single clear memory of us interacting directly, but I couldn’t. All I could feel was this tension, this tight, buzzy pressure in my chest, like I needed to punch something to let it out.

“I didn’t think so,” I said instead. “But I guess I was wrong.” Guilt crept up my spine, followed quickly by embarrassment. “Sorry. I get it if you think I’m an asshole.”

Amir shook his head. “Half the people who know me think I’m an asshole. I’m used to it.” He laughed. “Honestly, if I’d known you in high school, the whole asshole factor probably would’ve made me like you more.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve always had terrible taste in men.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. That’s really reassuring.”

“Happy to help.” He reached for another cinnamon roll, grinning blithely.

I suddenly felt adrift, just standing there in Dana’s kitchen like I’d been untethered from my own memories. Was it normal to have so few? Sometimes it felt like everything in my life before the Marines had happened to someone else. Some other version of me that I couldn’t fully remember.

Honestly, I wished I could forget some of the stuff from the Marines as easily as I’d apparently forgotten high school.

“So what actually happened?” Dana asked, still working on her first roll. “Once you showed up at Kai’s house?”

“He slammed the door in my face. Or tried to. Basically told me to fuck off and get lost.”

“Damn,” Amir said. “You must’ve really gotten under his skin.”

“I guess,” I said. I’d thought it was the other way around.

“But you didn’t fuck off,” Dana said. “I heard you when you came home last night. It was late.”

“Well, yeah. Just because he told me to go didn’t mean I was going to leave. I followed him to the theater.”

Dana’s eyes went wide, and Amir let out a low whistle.

“What?” I said defensively. “I wasn’t going to abandon him because he told me to.”

“Oh my God,” Dana groaned. “I’m going to have to do so much damage control. Mason, when someone tells you to leave, you leave .”

“Not when they might be in danger,” I snapped. “And you should be glad I didn’t leave, because someone tried to stab him after the show was over.”

“What?” she said, straightening up like she’d been zapped.

“Yeah.”

“Wait, really?” Even Amir looked serious now. “Kai didn’t tell me that.”

“Probably because he’s pretending it didn’t happen,” I grumbled. I took another sip of coffee, trying to convince myself again that I’d done all I could. I couldn’t force Kai to be reasonable.

“Amir, not that I don’t love seeing you,” Dana said, “but what are you actually doing here? You could’ve passed on Kai’s message by text.”

“Yeah, but I was on my way to the gym anyway,” Amir said, shrugging. “Figured I’d stop by. Kai seemed pretty pissed.”

“I already knew that,” I said, irritation rising in me again just thinking about it. “I didn’t need you to break it to me.”

“I know.” Amir laughed. “But I like the drama.”

I sighed. “Kai wouldn’t go get the wound looked at, and I’m not even sure he’s planning to tell the cops about it. He hadn’t by the time I left.”

“You left a client at the theater after he’d gotten hurt?” Dana said, her voice sharp with surprise.

“Of course not. I made sure he got home safe. I tried to convince him it was serious. I even showed him the tear in his tux where the knife went in.”

“Shit.” Dana’s face paled. “This is really serious.”

“That’s not lost on me. But he was determined to brush it off. And then he kicked me out again.”

I tried not to sound petty. Kai didn’t owe me anything, not really. But I’d done everything I could to help him, and he’d still treated me like something Bella had dragged in. Sweet dog. Too bad her human was such a pain in the ass.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Amir asked. “He texted me this morning, asking why I hadn’t told him your name. Like I was supposed to be psychic and know you guys went to school together. But he didn’t mention getting hurt.”

“If he’s up and texting you like normal, then yeah, he’s probably okay. I’ve seen guys get hurt worse than that and still walk away. I don’t think it was deep. But still.” I turned to Dana. “Did he explain why he wanted a bodyguard? I couldn’t get it out of him.”

“No,” she said slowly. “Jesus, this whole thing is a mess. I figured he was just some rich guy trying to feel important. I never imagined—do you know how much liability this opens us up to? He could sue the hell out of us.”

“He won’t,” Amir said quickly. “He’s not the type.”

“Doesn’t matter if he is or isn’t,” Dana said. “It’s the principle. I really wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, Dane,” I said. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I still should’ve been more careful.”

I turned back to Amir. “Do you know why Kai wanted a bodyguard? He kept saying calling us was a mistake, but if someone’s after him, I don’t think it was.”

Amir looked cagey. “He did tell me…but I’m not sure he’d want me to say anything.”

“Amir, this is serious. Someone tried to hurt him last night. I need to know.”

He grimaced. “Sorry. It’s not personal. But if he didn’t tell you himself, he probably doesn’t want me telling you either.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s Kai.” He shrugged. “You could always ask him yourself.”

“I’m never going to see the guy again,” I said. “He made that clear last night. But I think we need to report this to the police. I’m still not convinced he did.”

“You can ask him yourself,” Dana said, voice steely, “because you are going to see him again.”

“What?”

“You’re going to see him again, and you’re going to apologize.” She folded her arms. “For last night. For high school. Hell, for being born, if that’s what it takes to make sure he doesn’t sue us.”

“I told you, he wouldn’t,” Amir said.

“I don’t care,” Dana said. “This isn’t about whether he will or won’t. It’s the right thing to do.”

Which was how I found myself standing outside Kai’s house that evening, trying to tamp down the hive of bees swarming in my gut. I shook my head. There was no reason to be nervous. But no matter how many times I told myself that, my body wasn’t buying it.

Kai lived in a swanky part of Georgetown. Actually, all of Georgetown was swanky, but his place still stood out—yellow stucco with crisp blue shutters, classic row house style. It shared its south wall with a neighbor, but the north side had a wrought iron gate under an arched brick opening that led to a narrow brick-lined passage between the two houses.

The front yard was small, like all the yards around here. Thick with ivy and pachysandra, with a gnarled Japanese maple twisting up in the middle of it. Right up against the house, a row of irises leaned against the stucco, drooping in the muggy evening air.

It would’ve been easy to blame Dana and say she’d bullied me into coming here. But if I was being honest, I hadn’t liked how things ended last night either. I’d spent all day worrying about Kai. What if the cut was deeper than I thought? What if it got infected?

Those were the kinds of practical questions I’d learned to ask in the field, when I had to keep my men alive long enough to get them back to base. And sure, this wasn’t the middle of the mountains, and Kai wasn’t exactly bleeding out in the dirt. He was in a wealthy neighborhood in one of the most developed cities on Earth. But that didn’t make me worry less.

Someone was clearly targeting him. Until I knew who and why, I wasn’t going to rest easy. Not until I’d neutralized the threat. Not until I was sure he was safe, and I could walk away from this—and from him.

I took another deep breath, then marched up the front walk and knocked on the blue door.

Bella barked once, but I didn’t hear anything else. Shit. Maybe he wasn’t home. He probably wasn’t—he had money, a real job, a life. Unlike me, his evenings were probably full of social engagements or meetings or whatever rich, important people did with their time.

I knocked again. Bella’s body thumped against the door, and she whined like she knew it was me, but there was still no sign of Kai.

Well, I’d made the effort. Dana couldn’t say I hadn’t tried. One more knock, then I’d leave.

I raised my hand and rapped my knuckles on the wood. Bella gave another, single bark, and I heard her paws scratch at the bottom of the door as she whimpered.

“Sorry, girl,” I said, raising my voice so she could hear me. “I’d pet you if I could. But since it’s just you and me, I guess I gotta say goodbye.”

I turned to go, then heard Bella erupt in a full-throttle barkfest, along with some excited yips, and another couple body slams against the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, you ridiculous creature,” came Kai’s voice from the other side of the door. “You’re not going to make me open it any faster by giving yourself a concussion.”

His voice was exasperated but warm. Something unfurled in my chest like sunlight breaking over my shoulders. I shook it off. No time for feelings. Especially not those.

The door opened, and there he was.

I don’t know what I’d been expecting. I’d just seen Kai last night. But somehow, it felt like I hadn’t seen him in months. His slim frame, dark hair, and fiery eyes struck me, and something in me surged forward. I actually had to catch myself on the doorframe.

He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me as I tried to wrest control of my limbs back from whatever alien had suddenly taken a hold of my body. He didn’t look surprised, exactly. But his expression said he had nothing to say to me—and doubted I could say anything he’d care to hear.

Bella, completely unaware of the tension, did her best to wedge between his legs.

“Hey, girl,” I said, crouching to scratch her head. Kai shifted, nudging her back with one knee. I stood up as he straightened.

“Well?” he said flatly.

“I need to talk to you,” I said. “I know you probably don’t want to see me”—understatement of the year—“but I need to talk. And we probably shouldn’t do this out here.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why not? I’m sure whatever you have to say won’t take long.”

“Because someone tried to stab you last night?” I said, frustration bleeding into my voice. I knew I was supposed to be apologizing, but Jesus, he got under my skin like no one else. “Do you have to make this difficult?”

“I’m the one making this difficult?” he said, his tone sharp. “You’re the one who—” He stopped, lips twisting. I watched him inhale slowly, then exhale. “No. I promised myself I wasn’t going to let you do this to me again.”

“Do what to you?” I asked, confused.

He sighed. “Forget it. Just…come in, I guess, if you’re going to.”

He turned and walked away, leaving the door open and Bella suddenly freed. She jumped up, putting her front paws on my chest.

“At least someone’s happy to see me,” I whispered, petting her and making kissy faces. “Aren’t you?” I glanced at Kai’s retreating back. “I don’t suppose you want to convince him I’m not such a bad guy, do you?”

She licked my chin.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I nudged her off gently. “Come on. We’d better get this over with.”

I followed Kai inside and closed the door behind me, my eyes sweeping over the bright, curated interior of his house. It had been dimly lit last night, but this evening, all the lights were on.

Everything looked expensive. Tasteful. The furniture was clean-lined and modern, the art on the walls lit by perfect, discreet accent lights. There was a fireplace, which wasn’t unusual for a place this old, but it was laid with real wood logs, suggesting it still worked.

Kai was already moving, cutting across the living room into the kitchen. I trailed behind, trying not to let my boots scuff the immaculate floors. The kitchen might’ve been even more impressive than the living room—white cabinets, all-new stainless steel appliances, gleaming like showroom models. There were double ovens, a wine fridge, and marble countertops that looked like they’d never even been leaned on.

A bowl of lemons and limes sat in the center of the kitchen island, looking so perfect I actually reached out to touch one to see if it was real. Of course it was. God forbid Kai Jacinto do something as low-class as display fake fruit.

The dining room off the kitchen looked like something out of a home design magazine. A massive table made from dark, richly grained wood dominated the space, surrounded by matching heavy chairs. Abstract paintings filled the walls—none of them prints or posters. You could see the actual brushstrokes. Built-in bookshelves flanked the far wall, filled with leather and cloth-bound books that probably weren’t just for show.

Beyond the dining room, sliding glass doors led to the backyard. It was strange back there. A straight brick pathway ran through the middle of a lawn so precisely mown it looked like artificial turf. There was nothing else. No furniture, no landscaping beyond the grass. Just the grass, a gate, and a wall of red brick enclosing the yard. It gave me a weird feeling, like something was off, even though I couldn’t put my finger on what.

Everything in this place screamed money and taste. I wondered if Kai had bought the house himself or inherited it from his parents. Either way, it must’ve been nice having that kind of safety net. It sure as hell hadn’t been part of my reality growing up.

Kai leaned against the kitchen island with his arms crossed. He wasn’t tall, but he made himself look taller—his slim frame pulled tight, every line of his posture strung like a bow. Ready to snap.

“Well?” he asked, his expression pure impatience.

Annoyance flared up in my chest. I was here to apologize, to check on him, to make sure he was okay after what happened. And the guy still hadn’t shown me the slightest bit of gratitude. Bella nudged my leg with her snout, and I scratched behind her ears, reminding myself he didn’t know why I was here. He hadn’t asked me to come. I had to start from square one.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I owe you an apology. Several, actually. But I wanted to start by saying I didn’t know it was you last night. Dana didn’t either. If we had, I wouldn’t have shown up without warning you.”

“Oh.” Kai’s voice was flat. “How nice. If you’d known, you wouldn’t have come to my door and reminded me of what an asshole you are. You’d have passed my request on to someone else. How considerate.”

I knew he was trying to hurt me with that, and it worked.

“It’s not—it’s not just that,” I stammered. “Last night, you kept telling me to leave, and I wouldn’t go. I’m supposed to say I’m sorry for not listening to you, and I am, but…if I’m being honest, I’m not sorry, because you did need help, and I—”

“You’re supposed to say?” he cut in. “Is this some kind of script? Did you and Dana cook this up?”

“No,” I protested. “I mean, yes, she’s the one who told me to come over. She was worried you’d sue us. But I also wanted to—”

“You’re here to avoid a lawsuit?” His eyes widened. “That’s what this is? You’re not here to apologize, you’re here to make sure I’m not mad enough to sue you?”

“No, you’re not listening. I said Dana wanted me to come, but I wanted to too. I’m not sorry that I followed you last night, and I’m not sorry I was there when someone fucking stabbed you—which, by the way, you’re still way too relaxed about—but I am sorry that taking care of you meant ignoring your wishes.”

Kai’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head slowly.

“Wow. Just… Wow. That’s actually impressive.”

“What is?” I asked, unsure what landmine I’d stepped on now.

“That has got to be the worst apology I’ve ever received. Maybe the worst one anyone’s ever given. You’re not even sorry for the right thing. You think I’m mad about last night?”

My brows pulled together. “Aren’t you? You seemed pretty pissed that I wouldn’t leave.”

“Yeah, because it’s more of the same bullshit. Six straight years of you pushing into my life, doing whatever you wanted, ignoring how I felt—and now you’re back, doing it again and acting like you’re doing me a favor. Like one night of pretending to care makes up for everything else.”

He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes blazing. The weight of his anger pressed down on me like a physical thing. I’d been in tighter spots before, but right then, I couldn’t remember a single one. I would’ve taken enemy fire over Kai’s judgemental stare.

I sighed. “About that. That’s the other thing I wanted to apologize for.” I held my hands out. “Thing is, Kai, I don’t really remember much of high school. Dana told me I wasn’t the nicest to you, so…I wanted to say sorry.”

“Not the nicest?” he repeated, voice full of acid. “Not the fucking nicest?”

“Like I said, my memories are fuzzy—”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” he snapped. “You’re apologizing for something you can’t even remember doing, because your overblown ego can’t admit you might not have been a stand-up guy back then. God, I should’ve known better than to expect anything real from you. But somehow, you keep surprising me with how low you can go.”

He turned and stalked out of the room, heading through the dining room towards the sliding glass doors. He yanked one open—it hadn’t even been locked—and stepped out onto the back steps.

I hurried after him.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, grabbing his sleeve before he could go any farther. “Someone knifed you last night, and you’re waltzing out into your backyard like it’s no big deal? What if someone’s out there?”

“Let me go.”

He turned to yank his arm free, then took another step—but he wasn’t looking where he was going. His foot slipped off the edge of the back step and he windmilled his arms, trying to catch his balance. I moved instinctively, sweeping an arm around him before he could go down.

He slammed into my chest with a gasp. I looked down and found his face inches from mine. His eyes were wide, wary. His lips parted, and my throat went dry.

His nostrils flared. Energy crackled between us, and suddenly I was hot all over—like I’d been holding my breath and just realized it.

Then something bumped against my legs with a heavy thump. Bella. She’d followed us to the door, crashing into the moment like a living reality check. Whatever strange tension had taken hold snapped apart the second she appeared, and Kai stepped carefully out of my arms, putting distance between us.

I still couldn’t stop myself from snapping, “Are you trying to get yourself killed? I told you, you’re in danger.”

“Right,” Kai said, “because my stalker time-traveled back to the 1700s to design and build my house to these exact specifications, knowing that centuries later, some asshole from my past would blunder in and knock me down the stairs.”

“I didn’t knock you down,” I growled. “I kept you from falling. And I still don’t know what’s going on, because you won’t tell me anything. You have a stalker? Is that why you wanted a bodyguard?”

He ran a hand down his face and groaned. “Why can’t I keep my mouth shut when I’m around you? Why do you make it so hard to keep my temper in check?”

“I don’t know,” I shot back, “but the feeling is one hundred percent mutual.”

Jesus. I’d come here to apologize—hell, I’d agreed to apologize for stuff I didn’t even remember—but every time I opened my mouth, Kai found a new way to twist my words. Every instinct I had to make peace kept getting overridden by sheer frustration. What ever happened to giving someone the benefit of the doubt?

“Look,” I said, exhausted, “clearly, we don’t get along. That’s fine. We don’t have to be friends. I’ll get out of your hair, I promise. Just—please let me finish my apology?”

He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t tell me to shut up. That was as good as permission, I figured.

“What I’m trying to say,” I continued, “is that my brain’s kind of fucked these days. After—well, nevermind. The point is, I don’t remember much from high school, but I trust you and Dana to remember it better than I do. And it sounds like I was a jerk. So, I’m sorry.”

Kai didn’t respond, just kept staring at me with those unreadable dark eyes.

I swallowed and pushed on. “Honestly, all I really remember from high school is how close you were with Ava. If I was a dick to you, it was probably because I was jealous that she wanted you instead of me.”

Kai’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“I just…” I shrugged. “You were smarter than I was. Had more money. You were ambitious and clearly had this whole future laid out in front of you. I get it now. I really do. I can totally see why she was into you. But back then, it hurt. So, yeah… I’m sorry.”

He burst out laughing. And I mean burst out . He doubled over, slapped a hand over his mouth, and laughed, his whole body shaking. I just stood there, blinking like an idiot.

This was…not the reaction I expected. Don’t get me wrong, it was better than him yelling at me again or telling me to get out. But still—laughter?

“Did I say something funny?” I asked, a little sharper than I meant to.

Kai shook his head, pulling his glasses off so he could wipe at the corners of his eyes.

“You actually thought Ava and I were dating?” he managed, still laughing.

I blinked. “You weren’t?”

“No. Never. Mason, I’m gay.”