Mason followed, standing in the bedroom's doorway, shirtless with a pair of unzipped jeans. He hollered after me, "You have a job?"

"Yeah!" Ignoring the stares and sudden lull in conversation, I yelled back, "Manny's. Started yesterday. See you!"

I was out the door and in my car within seconds but had to slam on the brakes when I looked in the rearview mirror. There were cars in front of me, on the side of me, and behind me. I was boxed in.

"AH!" My forehead hit the steering wheel from frustration. I was never going to get there. Heather was going to fire me on my second day.

What was I going to do? But I didn't have the time to consider my choices—she needed to know what was going on so I looked through my purse for my phone when I heard a tapping on my window. Glancing up, a heady rush went through me when Mason bent down and had his set of keys dangling from his hand. He was still shirtless. I wasn't going to complain.

He said through the closed window, "Come on. I'm not blocked in. I'll give you a ride."

When I got out, he led the way and I had a good view of his backside. Goodness. I forgot how he was just as well sculpted in the back as the front. The only times I looked at his back was when I pressed against him. It was his front side that always held my attention. I blushed as I remembered the reason why I was late for work and at how wanton my behavior had been. I should've been used to it, but when he sauntered to his Escalade with a natural grace that only the best athletes seemed to possess, I knew I never wanted to get used to our times together. I wanted every time to feel like the first.

"What's the hold up? You coming?"

Oh god. I had paused beside his door and was staring at him, lust in my thoughts. My head ducked down as I hurried around to the passenger side. I rolled my eyes. I was like a schoolgirl crushing on the local god. But I was, and he was, and we were together. My shoulders came back up at that thought. When I slipped inside, he gave me a questioning glance but pulled out and veered around the cars in the driveway.

"You good?"

I nodded, biting my lip. His jeans were still not zipped up, but he was only dropping me off. "I won't be done until the bar closes."

"You help out in the bar too?"

"Yeah." I gave him a sheepish look. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, a lot of stuff happened today, but I meant to."

"It's no problem. I'm just surprised."

"Really?" For some reason, I had thought he would've been upset that I got a job. But now as I saw that he didn't care, I relaxed. A small flutter started in the pit of my stomach, but it was a good flutter. I wanted a job; it hadn't been all about avoiding my mother. Correction, I wanted this job. I liked working at Manny's. I liked working with Heather.

He grinned as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, why? You think I'd be pissed or something?"

I shifted in my seat. "Well…yeah…" But why? That'd been a ludicrous thought, but then I understood. My mom would've been mad. She would've hated the idea, she always did. I slumped even further in my seat. Mason wasn't my mother. He wouldn't want to keep me only to the house or out with the only friends she approved. Lydia and Jessica had gotten Analise's stamp of approval. That ended with disaster. Then a sick feeling came to me, and I looked back over at Mason.

"What's wrong?" His voice was so quiet. He glanced from me to the road, but he could tell.

I took another breath. Could I even say this out loud? "My mom liked Lydia and Jessica. Do you think—" I hesitated. I couldn't say it.

"Do I think…what?"

But I knew I would always wonder. "Do you think she liked them because they were like her? I mean, they were mean and didn't really care about me."

His eyes widened a fraction of an inch, but that was his only reaction. The air seemed tense, though, and my gut twisted. I knew why it had changed as soon as I said those words. It was true, and Mason knew it but didn't know how to say those words to me. I shook my head and looked away. "It doesn't matter. I know what you're going to say."

"No, you don't."

I nodded. Drawing in a painful breath, I leaned my forehead against the window. I'd been so blind. She had made comments. She always knew that Jeff was a cheater—could she recognize it in him because she was one too? Was that why she liked Jessica most of all? Because she was like her? She hadn't liked Lydia as much—was that because Lydia cared the most for me out of all three of them?

It was sick. I didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Hey," Mason spoke. He was cautious.

My shoulders tightened and bunched around me. "I don't want to talk about that. I really don't."

"Well, you need to. You sure you have to work tonight?"

I swung around at his gruff voice. What was he mad about? Even though his eyes weren't on me but on the road, I saw the glimmer of fury there. His jaw clenched and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. I asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"What?" He whipped his gaze to me. Then spat out, "No! I'm mad at that bitch you call your mother. Did she pick your friends for you?"

My stomach dropped. She had.

He saw my answer, and a disgusted sound came from him. "I can't believe her—no, I can. She's controlling and possessive. That's why she never liked the idea of you and me, because she couldn't control me and because she knew I cared about you. You want to know my guess as to why she liked those two for you?"

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