Bang (Blast Brothers #2) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,57

suggested it, but because it was nighttime in early December.

By the time I made it out to the back patio, Mason was already there, standing a few feet away from the back door. At the sight of him, I stopped in confusion. He was wearing the same thing he'd been wearing in the upstairs hallway – jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. No coat.

As I closed the patio door behind me, I gave him a pointed look. "Where's your coat?"

"I didn't need one. Is that a problem?"

"No. But it does seem odd that you'd tell me to grab one when you didn't grab one for yourself."

"Wanna know what's odd to me?"

"What?"

"Whatever is going on."

I stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"You're avoiding me."

I forced a laugh. "I am not."

"You are. And we both know it."

I knew no such thing. "Oh, please. I've been spending exactly the same amount of time with you that I used to." I hesitated. "I mean, before the incident."

He gave me a look. "The incident."

"Um, yeah. In the pantry. And later in your bedroom."

He frowned. "I've never heard it called that before."

I summoned up a stiff smile. "Your bedroom? What do you normally call it?"

He was still frowning. "Was that a joke?"

"Maybe," I admitted. "But you know what? You could probably use a little more teasing in your life."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." And then, fearful he'd take it the wrong way, I added, "And just so we're clear, I don't mean sexually."

"Good to know."

Was it? From the look in his eyes, I couldn’t be sure.

I tried again. "I mean, I'm not playing hard-to-get, if that's what you think."

"I don't," he said. "So tell me what's on your mind."

There were so many things on my mind, I hardly knew where to begin. But in the end, it all boiled down to one thing. "Remember in the pantry, when you called it bad idea?"

From the look on his face, he wasn't happy with the reminder. "Yeah?"

"Well, you were probably right."

He studied my face. "Probably right?"

Dang it. "Definitely right. Which is why we were smart to keep it a one-time thing."

He looked at me for a long, silent moment before saying, "Is that right?"

"Definitely. I mean, everyone knows it's a terrible idea to donk your boss – or your employee, for that matter."

His eyebrows lifted. "Donk."

"Yeah. It's a non-swearword for…" Gosh, how to put this?

"Incident?"

I shook my head. "What?"

"You mean sex."

"Uh, yeah. Right."

His gaze locked on mine. "So you're regretting it."

Funny, he hadn't phrased it as a question. And now I felt slightly ridiculous. After all, I'd been more than willing. And he'd given me every chance to change my mind.

Did I have regrets?

Yes.

And no.

"If you mean the sex," I said, "I'm not saying I regret it. I'm just saying I'm not gonna do it again, that's all."

He gave me another look, this one longer than the last. "With me? Or with anyone?"

Now, it was my turn to frown. "So…Was that a joke?"

"Call it teasing," he said with a pale imitation of a smile. "Unless you can dish it out, but not take it."

"Oh, I can't take it, alright," I said. "And obviously I am going to have sex again."

"But not with me."

"Exactly."

Again, he studied my face. "So, are you gonna tell me why?"

"Oh come on," I said. "I shouldn’t have to give you a reason."

"Is that so?"

"Sure," I said. "I mean, let's be honest here. You're probably glad I'm not beating down your door."

"Tell me, do I look glad?"

"Not really," I admitted. "But that's not the point."

"So, what is?"

"I'm just saying, I'm sure you've had plenty of one-night stands. Do you always explain to them why there's no second night? Or third? Or whatever?"

"No. I don't."

"See?"

"Right." His voice was cool in the darkness. "So you're calling it a one-night stand."

"Exactly."

"In case you're not familiar with the concept," he said, "a one-night stand is usually with a stranger, someone you don't expect to see again."

"Yeah, well, I've never had one, so…" I gave a loose shrug. "Anyway, so, it's settled?"

"No," he said. "Not 'til you tell me why you're angry."

"Who says I'm angry?"

"I can see it in your eyes."

Great. And to think, I'd been doing such a good job of pretending like everything was normal. And maybe I had. But now, under his intense scrutiny, my pretense was crumbling fast.

I made a sound of frustration. "Has it ever occurred to you that I might be mad at myself?"

"For what?"

"Alright, let's say you really like ice cream. And there's this pint in the freezer."