Bang (Blast Brothers #2) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,36

a fraction closer. "Now, you're gonna give me something."

As I craned my neck to stare up at him, I found myself getting lost in the intensity of his gaze – so lost that it took me a moment to realize the ramifications of what he'd just said.

He'd just agreed to give me the photos. This meant I wasn't about to be fired.

Well, that was good.

Probably.

Willow, I loved. And the job was shockingly easy for what I was paid. But as far as Mason, I didn't know what I felt. He distracted me to no end, even now, when we were supposed to be discussing his sister.

And now he wanted something? The truth was, I could think several things I'd like to give him. And none of them were decent.

Good grief. What was wrong with me, anyway.

Probably, it was some sort of apology, whether for making a scene or for not telling him right away what had happened.

Bracing myself, I said, "Okay, what?"

"The truth," he said. "Did you – or did you not – have coffee with my brother?"

Chapter 22

Mason

Shit.

It wasn't what I'd planned to say. I'd been planning to demand a written report detailing what had happened with Veronica, including a full account of their conversation – because I knew one thing for damn sure. I hadn't heard the whole story.

Not yet.

But sometime in the last few minutes, my thoughts had returned to my conversation with Chase, and I'd begun considering the possibility of Cami becoming just another notch in his bedpost.

I didn't like it.

She wasn't his type. She was too sweet, too responsible, and far too good for whatever he had in mind.

Don't get me wrong. I loved my brother. He had plenty of fine qualities, and I'd die for him if I needed to.

But if I had a daughter – or hell even a sister my own age – he'd be the kind of guy I'd warn her away from, hard.

Cami wasn't my sister. I realized this, just like I realized there was nothing brotherly about the way she made me feel, even now, as she stared up at me with apparent confusion.

After a long moment, she said, "Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question."

"Um, yeah. Well, I guess it is. But I'm not sure why you'd ask."

"So you're saying it's none of my business."

She hesitated. "Honestly I don't know. I mean, he's your brother, so I'm guessing that's why you're asking?"

Tonight, she was wearing jeans and a cream-colored sweater. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was long and loose. As she stared up at me, a cold breeze lifted the tendrils around her face, making her look like something out of an adolescent dream, the kind that ended happy in more ways than one.

As far as the question, I didn't know why I was asking. It would be easy to tell myself that I was asking for Willow's sake, making sure that Cami's attention didn't stray from her job.

But in my gut, I knew this wasn't the issue. Cami treated Willow like her own little sister. And if I were a betting person – which I wasn't – I'd bet just about anything that Cami would sacrifice herself long before she'd ever put Willow in danger.

The incident with Veronica had done nothing to change this belief.

I replied, "I'm asking, because I wanna know."

"But that's no kind of answer," she said. "And which brother do you mean, anyway?"

This should've been obvious. I had two brothers. My youngest brother, Brody, was engaged to her best friend.

So why the question?

Was she stalling?

I gave her a look. "If you're having coffee on the side with Brody, you've got bigger problems than Veronica."

She drew back. "Just what are you accusing me of, anyway?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"If you heard an accusation, you heard wrong."

"Oh, really?" she said. "Because it almost sounded like you were accusing me of sneaking around with my best friend's fiancé."

She was wrong.

And she was still avoiding the question.

I said, "Hey, you asked which brother. Not me."

She was glaring now. "Just what kind of person do you think I am?"

The question hit harder than it should've. I thought she was a good person, a better person than I'd ever be. So why was I hassling her?

I didn't want to.

But she had this way of getting under my skin, making me feel things I hadn't felt in a long while. And whatever those feelings were, they were chafing like a broken blister, making me ornery as hell, even now when she'd technically done