Page 21 of Take Me (Cherry Blossom Lake #5)

Laughing, he let his eyes flutter shut in the sunshine. “Gretta couldn’t handle us, I guess. Probably a good thing we broke up, huh?”

“Yeah.” I lay back beside him, my hand brushing his in our usual platonic way. For the next twenty minutes, the spots where we’d touched kept tingling like someone had tasered me.

But even then I understood Mason liked girls who wore ruffly skirts and knew how to wield a mascara wand.

One week later, I started dating an Army Ranger with searing gold eyes and a ’68 Chevy Camaro.

By the end of the summer, I’d gone back to Neil, and Mason returned to dating a long string of girly girls.

Rolling over in bed, I punch at my pillow again. There’s a damn good reason nothing ever happened between Mason and me. We’re meant to be friends. That’s all there is to it.

I drift off to sleep, reminding myself that’s how it should be. Mason’s my buddy, that’s all.

We wake the next morning, both blurry from wine and poor sleep. Breakfast is scrumptious, but quiet. Packing is a silent task, too, though Mason has the good sense to blame it on hangovers.

“Shouldn’t have had so much rosé,” he mutters as he hoists himself into the truck.

“No kidding.” I sling my bags in back and slide into the passenger seat. “I took two Advil, and my head’s still pounding.”

My head is just fine, and even my boobs are all right. A little tender, but not red anymore. My brain, on the other hand, won’t stop spinning six-thousand miles per second.

Why did I beg him to touch me like that?

It’s true that he started it, maybe for altruistic reasons.

It makes sense that suckling an injured body part would soothe pain.

When I whack my knuckle working on an engine, instinct commands me to stick the injured finger in my mouth.

I generally don’t, but I get why Mason would do what he did.

I’m the one who let things get out of hand. The one who clutched the back of his head, begging him to suck harder, to tease me with his tongue as I wrapped my leg around him and?—

“Knock knock.”

I turn to face him as Mason slips on his sunglasses and pulls out of the parking lot. He looks easy and calm with one elbow propped on the armrest.

“Who’s there?” I deliver my line as casually as I can, praying he can’t hear the shake in my voice.

“Needle.” He says it so straight-faced and breezy.

“Needle who?”

“Needle little water over here.” He grins and nods to my Hydro Flask. “Meant to fill up my bottle before we left. Mind if I steal a sip of yours?”

I twist off the top and pass it over, relieved at how normal we’re being. Mason’s still Mason and I’m still me, and we can get through this just fine. It was just a silly blip on the radar. A tipsy moment that meant nothing at all. Certainly not enough to cost us our friendship.

I watch him gulp from my bottle, doing my best not to stare at his lips. When he hands back the water, he grins as he wipes his mouth with his wrist. “Thanks. I’ll get you a refill when we stop for gas.”

“Need any Tylenol?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

I hesitate. I need to address it, just once, to be sure. “Are we good?”

I wait for the smartass response. For Mason to pretend he doesn’t know what I mean. “Yeah,” he says softly, making my insides hum. “We’re good.”

Thank God.

“We both agree that was a mistake, right?” I’ve asked the hard question already, so I may as well put it all out there. “That fucking up our friendship would be totally, utterly?—”

“Stupid.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Dumber than dirt.”

“Crazier than a soup sandwich.” Glad we got that out of the way. I twist the cap back onto my bottle and set it in the cupholder. “Knock knock.”

Mason’s broad shoulders relax in the corner of my eye. “Who’s there?”

“Norma Lee.”

“Norma Lee who?”

“Norma Lee, I’m not all that into weddings, but I thought that one was really cool.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He grins and hits his turn signal to head out on the highway. “Their first dance was badass.”

“Right?” Laughing, I ease back into my seat. “I hope the next weddings are that much fun.”

“You’re game to keep this going?” His tone shifts a little, more serious now. “If you’re uncomfortable at all?—”

“I’m not.” Is he? I did kinda use the man’s mouth as a sex toy. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Nope.” He makes a face. “Guess the next wedding’s gonna be a whole lot weirder.”

“Guess so.”

“It’ll be strange having Annabelle there.”

“Oh.” Of course that’s what he meant. “I almost forgot she’ll be there.” She’s friends with Lucy, so of course she’s on the guest list. Lucy and I talked about it, didn’t we? That seems like a long time ago.

“Pretty sure Jake and Cass invited her to their wedding, too.”

“Oh?”

He shrugs. “She’s looked after Orfy since he was a pup, plus I think she and Cass are friendly.”

“Right.” I forgot the town vet would know everyone with a dog. “Are you going to be okay having her there?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, but it’s limp, and I don’t miss the flash in his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

That wasn’t the confident answer I’d hoped for. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

He’s silent a moment, and I catch myself holding my breath. “Part of me will always care for her. She’s a great person, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it.” There’s a weird little twist in my belly, but I swallow it back and offer a smile. “I feel the same way about Neil.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. We were together a long time. You don’t just forget a ten-year relationship overnight.”

“That tracks.” He doesn’t say anything for a while. Just when I think I should tell another knock-knock joke, he breaks the silence. “Guess it’s a good thing you and I aren’t dating for real, huh?”

“For sure.” I answer automatically, though I’m not sure why he said it.

“We’ve both got way too much baggage we’re lugging around.”

“No joke.” There’s that twisting sensation again, wringing my guts like a washrag. “Good thing we didn’t do anything to mess it all up.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes as the miles hurtle past. As we cruise back to the town where we’ll both try to act like everything’s normal between us.

“Oh my God.” Hazel wheezes with laughter. “They thought it was blood ?”

I’ve just finished telling the story of Sam and Maxine’s wedding weekend. We’re sitting in our favorite booth at Weirdoughs, our lunch plates shoved to the side. Hazel sits picking at a trio of perfect petits fours, her sparkly blue eyes glinting with amusement.

“Pretty sure they thought Mason murdered me,” I tell her.

“Given the state you were in when they knocked, that seems apt.”

“What do you mean?”

She gives me a sly little smile. “Doesn’t the French word for orgasm translate to little death ?”

“ Le petit mort .” How weird that my one term of high school French has come in so handy lately.

“Hmm,” Hazel muses, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “I do hope you were interrupted after and not before.”

I decide to ignore that as I signal our waitress for the check. Lunch was my treat as a thank you to Hazel for keeping an eye on my dad. “Please let me pay you back for the dress.” I whip out my phone and toggle to Venmo. “I’m so sorry I ruined it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sips from her latte, looking polished and perfect with her dark hair wound into a braid bun on top of her head. “Even if I wasn’t planning to donate it to charity, hearing that story was worth a thousand times what that dress cost.”

Since I Googled the dress and learned it retails for nearly eight-hundred dollars, I guess I won’t argue too hard. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Hazel picks up the chocolate raspberry pastry and takes a bite. “So, things are going well with Mason?”

“Yeah, we’re great.” I leave it at that, feeling like a jerk for fibbing. “I’m looking forward to Jake and Cassidy’s wedding.”

“Did she show you her gown? It’s stunning.”

“I must’ve missed it.” Or, more likely, Cassidy Brooks knows I have the fashion sense of a groundhog. Not that I wouldn’t love being included, but I wouldn’t have much to say besides, “pretty.”

“It’s a strapless, lace appliqué, Basque-waist ball gown by Oleg Cassini.”

“Huh.” I understood strapless . “Sounds nice.”

“It really is.” Hazel’s gaze darts toward the door, then jerks back to mine like she’s just seen a ghost. “Have you seen their venue?”

“Hang on.” Scanning the front of the shop, I see Luke Lovelin stroll through the door with Cal Cornish. They’re with a third guy wearing an oversized hoodie and a ballcap pulled low on his face. “Is that Cooper Judson, the movie star?”

“Shhh.” Hazel stares down at her plate, forehead creased in concentration. “Don’t stare.”

“I’m not staring.” I’m also not sure why seeing some Hollywood heartthrob would affect Hazel like this. “He’s in town all the time visiting his parents. Doesn’t Cooper have a wife and a kid now?”

“I—have no idea.” Hazel crosses her legs under the table and picks up another petit fours. “Tell me more about Cassidy’s bachelorette party. We’re meeting at Spencer-King Auto and traveling to Newport together, right?”

“Yeah.” This is too good to let go. And maybe I guessed wrong about who caught Hazel’s eye. “Cal’s married and so is Cooper, and I know you’d never crush on a guy who’s already taken. Are you all discombobulated over Luke ?”

“Shhh!” She’s serious this time, glaring at me like I’ve accused her of stealing the salt and pepper shakers off the table. “Drop it, okay?”

“Okay.” Well, isn’t that interesting?

I don’t know Luke Lovelin well, but I’m ninety-five percent sure he’s somehow related to Cooper Judson’s wife. Luke works with my dad, and he shows up at Spencer-King Auto sometimes to order specialized car parts. Rumor has it he’s done time in prison.

As far as I know, Luke and Hazel have no reason to cross paths. Has my friend been keeping a secret?

“You stayed hush-hush about you and Mason,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m not saying there’s something to tell. But if there were ?—”