Page 26 of Mason

The logic sounds right, but it doesn’t ease the tight knot of loss that’s lodged in the center of my chest.

I hear my flight being called over the intercom and weave through the kiosks and pull up to the end of the line. The lady in front of me rocks a stroller back and forth in a futile effort to calm her finicky baby. Forget the pillow—I’ll probably spend my last two dollars on headphones. Whatever movie the airline chooses has to be better than listening to a child crying, because hearing it’s sobs will likely ignite my own.

My throat swells, and I duck my head, embarrassed. I’m so not that girl—the kind who judges and complains. Even my most bitter moments are usually reserved for my cheating father. But it’s like my whole world is off balance, and I can’t get back to the city fast enough.

The line inches forward.

“Olivia!”

My spine stiffens at the echo of a familiar voice. Sweat beads between my shoulder blades. I’m obviously hearing things, clinging desperately to some kind of hope because there’s no way Mason is at the airport. Not when his very important retreat is underway back at the hotel.

“Olivia, wait!”

The line moves another foot. I almost trip over the baby stroller in my effort to get through the boarding gate faster, stubbing my toe on the wheel instead. The baby starts crying and the mom turns around to give me a glare that shrinks me to the size of a dashboard bobble head. Fuck.

Don’t turn around.

Just a few more minutes and I’ll be buckled into my seat, preparing for take off. This trip will be nothing more than a dot on a map, a distant memory.

“Miss?” I blink at the stewardess, who holds her hand out in expectation. “Your passport.”

I stare at her like a deer with its eyes caught in headlights.

“Are you boarding?”

“Yes, of course.” I scrounge through my purse, heart pounding like it’s about to take flight. “Sorry, I seem to have misplaced—”

“Don’t get on that plane.”

Slowly, I turn. Mason’s standing there, looking messy but sexy as ever. His dirty blonde hair is tousled and curled against his forehead. The armor around my heart suffers a warning crack.

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside if you’re not boarding,” the stewardess says. “There are people waiting to get on the plane.”

Mason holds out his hand, daring me take it. And damn if I’m not tempted. “Why are you here?” I lick my lips. “You don’t fucking have feelings for me. Get out of here. It’s business as usual, right?”

He stares down at his empty palm and then runs it through his hair. His eyes shimmer with emotions I can’t read, but somehow manage to make my heart flutter. Behind me, restless passengers push me aside. The last boarding call warning echoes over the loud speaker. “I have to go…”

“You checked out of the hotel.”

I steel myself against temptation. “My resignation will be on your desk by morning.” I’m trembling so bad I’m sure he can hear my knees knock together. “I assume your partners will rejoice, given how little they think of me.”

His face pales a little, and too late, I realize I’ve tipped my hand. Instead of taking a stand, I’ve basically admitted to running away hurt, like a child.

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.”

“Clearly.” I blink back a traitorous tear. “Nevertheless, I did. And you can’t take back what’s been said.” I blow out a breath. “It’s better this way. I’d rather know now before I get more invested in…whatever this was.”

Which wouldn’t take much, since I’m already in way too deep. Leaving now is like ripping off the Band Aid, protecting myself from the permanent scar Mason will surely leave on my heart. Some say we’re drawn to men like our fathers. I guess even I’m not immune.

My mother would be ashamed of me.

Hell, I’m ashamed of myself.

“It’s complicated,” Mason says. He rubs the back of his neck and closes his eyes. “I could have handled things better, but it was easier to just tell them what they wanted to hear.”

“Bullshit.” My blood spikes with anger. “You’re your own man, Mason. You expect me to believe that anyone has that much influence over you? I get it. It meant nothing to you. I’m no different than any other girl you’ve taken to bed.”

The words choke from my throat with sketchy resolve.