You Are My Reason - Willow Winters Page 0,23

family’s house, though. This isn’t an Anderson estate. I inherited it when my parents moved from the city. We both knew I was far more well-off than he ever was. The steamy glass doesn’t hide the past. I can hear his voice; I can see it all like it was just yesterday.

But the memories are from years ago, and he’s never coming back.

Ping. This time when the phone goes off, I can’t help but want to cling to whatever Sue’s said. She could ask how big he is and I’d give her every detail including the veins. I’d be eternally grateful for a distraction right now. I take a seat on the bench, wincing as my sore bottom rests against the hard marble and pick up the damn phone.

It’s not her.

Well, this last message isn’t.

I have three from Sue, all wanting to know details about what I did with Mason last night. I roll my eyes and let out a small snort at her question about size. Of course she would ask me. I knew it.

By the looks of him, he should be packing ... but I’m going to guess he’s only four inches. Am I right?

She cracks me up. She’s been sending me these kinds of messages all day. Anything to get me talking.

Nope, only three, I type back just to give her something to laugh about. She deserves it. Without all these messages and prodding, I’m not sure how I would have handled this on my own.

I click over to the other message and my heart does an odd flip in my chest when I see who it’s from. Like it can’t function for just a moment. Maybe it’s the shock and disbelief, or maybe it’s fear? I’m not sure, but either way, I’m struck by the fact that Mason messaged me at all. I was sure that sneaking out would have sealed the deal between the two of us. It was a one-time thing. One I’m grateful for and content with. I knew what I was getting when I went into the arrangement.

I wasn’t sure if I should leave my phone number. I imagine he was relieved to find his drunken one-night stand gone and I didn’t want him to feel obligated to call me.

At the same time, I hoped he would.

Not because of him. It’s not that I’m clinging to having a relationship at all. I just … I liked the way he made me … I don’t know what the right word is. The way nothing else mattered when I was with him. How it all slipped away and I didn’t have to focus on anything but him. Mostly because he was only focused on me.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting more of that, is there? I bite down on my bottom lip and read the message.

It’s not not a hello or an admonishment for leaving him.

I want to see you again. Blue Hill at 8 p.m. tonight.

My lashes flutter a few times as I reread the message. How very presumptuous. As if I have nothing better to do than meet up with him.

I don’t, if I’m being honest with myself. I haven’t got a single thing to do other than write, which I fell into earlier and loved every second. I lose a little bit of the fight in me at the thought that I am available tonight, but still. This isn’t happening like this. I’m not a booty call or whatever he’s used to.

I look down at the message again and the second readthrough only pisses me off.

Maybe I want a good lay too, and by maybe, I mean I really do need it, but I’m not a call girl and I don’t want to be treated like one. Last night was something out of my realm.

Sorry. Busy. I type in the words and hit send without even thinking, letting my high and mighty attitude lead me. But as soon as the message pops up on the screen, I wish I could take it back.

My eyes close and my head falls back as I groan in aggravation. I should have just said yes. I mean after all, aren’t I using him too? I’m so busy staring at the ceiling and cursing myself that when my phone pings in my hand, I jump slightly.

Are you busy now?

A second passes and then another. Is he toying with me? I think he is. I can just imagine the teasing way he would say it. Like he knows