Page 11 of Sugar and Spice (Glitter and Sparkle #3)

CHAPTER NINE

“What did you need to talk to me about?” Mason asks, not bothering to drop his hand after we turn the corner, out of sight.

“Hmmm? Oh, nothing.” I shake my head, trying to force my mind to focus on Mason’s fingers. They’re warm on my back, only a few inches above the rise of my jeans.

Unfortunately, I’m still with Brandon. As happy as I am that Mason provided an escape, I can’t help but wonder what Brandon was going to say.

What about us? What about Sadie?

Something’s not quite right with the whole situation, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what. Or maybe I can—Brandon’s dating someone who isn’t me.

“How long did you date?” Mason asks, his voice as casual as can be.

Startled, I abruptly stop. “What?”

He turns, his eyes bright. “Brandon. ‘Good friend.’ Guy who looked like he was going to murder me just for touching you.”

I stretch my neck, not particularly wanting to have this conversation. “We never dated.”

His eyebrow creeps up, and his face crinkles with incredulous mirth. It’s a good look on him—boy next door with a roguish charm. “You sure about that?”

Sighing, I turn to face him. “The timing was never right.”

“Do you like him?” He cocks his head to the side, studying me like an impartial observer.

Irrationally amused, I laugh. “Most guys avoid these sorts of conversations like the plague.”

Mason edges closer, which makes me eye him with suspicion. “I sing about love for a living. I’m no stranger to the topic.”

My mouth goes dry, and I can’t seem to pull my gaze from his as I answer his original question, “No…maybe. Okay, yes. We’ve known each other forever. It’s all a bit murky.”

“Which explains why such a pretty girl is so jaded. How long were you and Sadie friends before she started dating Brandon?”

“We weren’t.”

And finally, I’ve thrown him. Mason thinks about my answer for several long moments before he finally asks, “How in the world did you form your bake-off partnership?”

I go into the whole story about Riley and her posters and Sadie’s grandmother. Mason is surprisingly easy to talk to. I even admit why I transferred home from Texas, though I feel like a fool for saying it out loud, especially to him.

We’ve ended up by the massive stone fireplace, on a pillowy leather love seat by the windows.

My knee is up on the cushion, with my back against the armrest, and my whole body is angled toward Mason. I’m still wearing my apron—I never took it off after the judging, and I toy with the long tie, rolling it between my fingers.

“So, your sister’s in love with me, huh?” Mason says with a wicked grin.

“No. Riley was infatuated with the idea of you, with your heart-stopping smile and the pretty lyrics in your songs.”

He taps my knee and leans forward. “You think my smile is heart-stopping?”

Forget his smile; the look he’s giving me right now is enough to make me melt.

I bend forward. “You tend to only hear what you want to, don’t you?”

“Usually.”

Suddenly, I realize we shouldn’t be doing this.

Mason might have been bumped to host, but he’s still a guest member of the HBN team.

I don’t want to give anyone a reason to think that there’s more going on between us than there is.

If they do, and they push hard enough, Tammy might decide I’m causing a conflict of interest, and Sadie and I will be booted out of the competition.

Reading my mind, or possibly noticing my hasty scan of the area, Mason chuckles under his breath and leans back so he’s not so close. “I think it’s all right.”

We’re mostly alone except for a few of the lodge employees and an occasional crew member.

Most of the contestants are still in the dining area, obsessing over the comments made during judging.

Some of the teams, like Chrissy and Christy’s duo, are sharks, and get enormous amounts of joy from people doing poorly.

Since Mason’s here, all the teams must be finished with their judging. We are free to do whatever we like for the rest of the day.

Cole and Jerome were talking about snowboarding at Keystone, which sounds like a fabulous idea.

Except the last time I went snowboarding, it was with Brandon.

We were together in a group. It was Riley, Lauren, Brandon, Harrison, Grant—a guy Lauren was dating, and me.

We ended up staying overnight at Grant’s grandparent’s lodge, and I talked to Brandon until sunrise.

Mason leans in, and his palm settles on my knee, bringing me out of my melancholy memories. “I lost you just now.”

Before I can answer, Quinn walks by. She flushes when she sees Mason, as most of the younger contestants are prone to do, but then her eyes zero in on his hand. She stops dead in her tracks, staring at us.

“Hey, Quinn,” I say, casually moving my leg.

I knew we shouldn’t have been out in the open.

Feeling awkward, I clear my throat. “How did judging go?”

The girl is adorable with black hair and warm skin.

She’s a year or so older than I am, but her wide eyes make her look innocent and young.

She and her mother were amazing in the kitchen.

They laughed and chatted like they weren’t competing in a nationally televised show as they whipped up their molasses creations.

When they were done, they ended up with some beautiful cookies.

I have a feeling they are going to be a team to watch.

She blinks several times. “Fine, I think. Um…you know how it goes. There’s always something.”

I nod. “And they argue with each other.”

Finally, that eases her discomfort. Her stance softens, and she laughs. “I know! I felt like I was watching a game of tennis as they bickered.”

Her eyes fall on Mason’s hand again, which is now resting on the cushion between us. Apparently feeling brave, she blurts out, “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” I ask before Mason has a chance to answer.

She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Are you two secretly dating? Is that why Mason was moved to host?”

I open my mouth to shoot the rumor down, but Mason beats me. “She hasn’t even made me a poster yet.”

And though Mason gives the girl a knowing look, it’s for me alone. Quinn stares back at him, understandably perplexed.

“No, we’re not dating,” I say, shooting Mason a frown. “Obviously neither of us would be willing to jeopardize our position in the competition.”

Then I realize my assurance makes it sound like that’s the only reason we’re not together. Not the fact that he’s a multi-platinum performing artist and I’m a nobody college girl who still has no idea what she’s majoring in or where she’s going with her life.

The funny thing is, for the first time, I’m all right with not knowing.

I’ve always strived so hard to be perfect, to plan every tiny detail in my life.

Leaving Texas for Brandon was the first spontaneous thing I’ve ever done.

And though that whole thing ended as badly as it could have…

it still felt freeing. And it brought me here.

“Just be careful, Harper,” Quinn says, glancing toward the hall that leads to the dining area. “Because the contestants are talking, and there’s a certain team that would like nothing more than to see you sent home.”

“Let me guess…they’re blond and cosmetically enhanced?” I deadpan.

Quinn snorts out a laugh, and then she purses her lips as she nods. She leaves after that, and I think about what she said. How did Sadie and I make enemies out of Chrissy and Christy so quickly?

Mason stands as well, but before he goes, he leans close to my ear, whispering. “My room, ten o’clock.”

My stomach gives a soft little flip, and I don’t even bother to fight it this time.

Quietly, I slip into the hall and hold down the handle as I shut the door so Sadie won’t hear me leaving. But I blow it when I turn around and squeal.

Holding my hand over my racing heart, I level Brandon with a glare that should bring him to his knees and hiss, “STOP that!”

He smiles, but there’s no humor behind it. “Harper Marie, where do you think you’re going at ten at night?”

I roll my eyes. “Ten, Brandon. Not midnight, not three in the morning. Ten o’clock.”

Instead of answering, he closes the distance between us and shoves a hand into my back jeans pocket.

Without lingering for even a second, he snatches my room card, crams it into the lock, and opens the door the moment the light blinks green.

Then he unceremoniously drags me inside, shutting the door behind us.

My heart hammers in my chest. I wish it were because of the indignant fury rising in my chest, but sadly, it’s not. Oh, it’s not at all.

With his hand still clutched on my arm, Brandon pushes me to the wall, holding me firmly in place.

He’s pressed against me, not about to let me loose, and my brain up and sizzles until it’s so fried, it’s completely worthless.

Which is a bad thing, because that means I’m working on instinct alone, and my instincts are purring under his touch.

“You’re going to let me talk this time, and you’re not going to run away,” he says, his words tickling my cheek.

His hold is gentle yet firm, in no way painful. If I gave him a good shove, I know he’d let me go. If I gave him a shove.

Instead, I close my eyes, focusing on the feel of his breath on my skin, of the light scent of his sports deodorant. For a moment, I compare it to Mason’s shampoo, but then I give myself a good, old-fashioned mental slap.

Brandon has you pressed against the wall. The least you can do is stay present for it.

“Fine. Talk.” There’s a catch in my voice, but I can’t do anything about it now.

Brandon’s grip softens, but he doesn’t step back. “I’m not dating Sadie. I was never dating Sadie.”

One second goes by, then two.

“Say something,” he murmurs, his voice growing husky.