Juliana Haygert - Playing Pretend

She put her hand in the crook of his arm. “Of course.”

They sauntered away from us, and I felt like digging a hole and disappearing inside it. The way Mason watched us, with a frown and his lips pressed tight, I wasn’t so sure this had been a good idea.

We stood before my painting, one avoiding the eyes of the other for a long time. I drank all of my champagne and willed a waiter to come back and bring more.

I was nervous and I was worried. For days, I had come up with plans on how to reconnect with Mason. Should I call him? Should I appear at his doorstep? Should I hang out outside his new job, wait until he walked out, and pretend it was coincidence? I talked about it with Liana, and she thought I should call him and invite him over. However, each time I held my phone with that purpose, my hands shook and my breathing grew erratic. What if he had moved on? After what happened, it was all in the air. By now, he could have forgotten about me, decided I wasn’t worth it. So many endless possibilities.

“Is this yours?” he asked.

I followed his line of sight. He was looking at the main painting.

“Yes,” I said.

“I … I can make out a man and a woman in those dark splotches.” He pointed his fingers to the right side of the canvas. “And in the background, the grayish, is their profile, right? I can see the pain in their expression, and also the love.” He shifted his gaze to me and I gulped hard. “Are they … people you know?”

I averted my eyes and nodded.

“Can you tell me who are they?” There was something like hope in his tone; it almost burst my heart.

“I can. I’m just afraid to.”

“Why?”

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know exactly. I was afraid that he would say he didn’t like me anymore. It wouldn’t be worse from hoping he still liked me. If he said he didn’t like me now, I would hurt a lot. But, with time, I would heal. I would probably never stop loving him, but I would learn how to live with that, and someday I would love again.

I hoped.

His expression hardened. “So, what am I doing here?”

“I want to apologize. For believing you had sent those pictures to the newspaper, for not answering your calls and messages, for not letting you explain to me what was going on, and for not coming after you right after I knew the truth.” I inhaled deeply. “I wanted to. I really wanted to. I just … I was taking my first steps by myself. I stood up to my mother. I moved out. I was changing majors. I was being myself for the first time in my life. I needed to get to know me before I introduced you again to me. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of.”

“I wanted to call you. I would hold my phone, almost calling you, for over a week, but …”

“But what?”

“I was scared you were mad at me for wanting some time.” I lowered my chin and watched a dark stain on the white floor. “I was scared you had moved on already.”

He stepped closer and my gaze shot to his face. “On TV, you said you were in love with me. Was it true?”

“It is.” Before I could come up with anything else coherent to say, Mason stepped into my personal space, slid his hand around my neck, and leaned down.

“I’m not moving on,” he said, his breath teasing my skin. Then his lips touched mine and I let out a happy sigh. He chuckled before crushing his mouth on mine. I opened my lips, letting his demanding tongue in. I clutched my hands on his hips, trying to steady myself against the heat-slash-desire wave bursting through me.

Someone cleared his or her throat, and we broke up.

“Get a room,” Liana said, walking past us.

My cheeks burned and I put my hands over them.

With a smile, Mason pulled my hands to his chest and kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re so cute when you blush.”

I shook my head and leaned on him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat. He was here, right here with me.

This could only be a dream. My mother and I were getting along without any more lies. We were a far cry from being the perfect mother and daughter, but it was so much easier now. I had been accepted into the arts program in D.C., and now Mason was here with me. It was too perfect to be true, and if it was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

He rested his chin on the top of my head. “It’s us, right?” He gestured to the painting.

“Yes,” I confessed, blushing again.

“I knew it.” He pulled back a little and looked down at me, into my eyes. “I love you, Charlotte, more than anything, more than anyone.”

My heart swelled. I smiled. “I love you too, Mason.”

He kissed me again—a little more chastely this time, since we were in a public place and he probably knew we had all the time in the world to kiss the way he liked to kiss me. A heat wave washed through me, thinking about what was to come. If I didn’t have to stay here for a couple more hours, I would be hauling him to my apartment right now.

Mason held me tight against him. “I’m never letting you go again.”

I snuggled on his ar ms. “Good, because I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

Writing acknowledgments is getting harder and harder. Hmm, maybe you guys won’t notice if I copy and paste the same acknowledgments from other books. I know, I know … I don’t thank always the same people. Damn it. Gonna have to fix it. ;)

So, let’s see who helped me with this particular book:

First and foremost, thanks to my husband and my daughter, for putting up with me and loving me even when all I want to do is write. I love you both sooooo much!

Thanks, Dani Crabtree, for being an awesome editor, and also a good friend. My books would be a big pile of crap without your help. :)

Thanks, Rebecca Berto, for this super sexy cover. It’s one of my favorites!

Thanks to the early readers and supporters of this story: Jani Grey, Priya Kanaparti, Renita Pizzitola, and Laura Carter. If you guys hadn’t insisted this story was good, it would still be forgotten somewhere in my computer.

And THANK YOU for reading my books!