Page 97 of Shamed
What happened between us tonight . . . I almost kissed him, in the middle of the club, in the middle of a shift. I got carried away; something thatneverhappens.
And he had wanted it as well. I saw it in the depths of his eyes, and felt it with every movement over his lap.
Locking lips on the job isn’t prohibited, but unless you’re willing to do it for every patron who’s watching, it shouldn’t be attempted.
Mase is far from a random patron, and I would never want to cheapen what I feel for him by kissing himhere.
God,I almost kissed him. I haven’t kissed anyone in ten years, so this is pretty significant for me.
And I might have done more.
To have the type of want and desire that tightens your core and moistens your panties is something I never thought I’d have. And it’s forhim, Mase Turner, Jacob’s old friend.
With butterflies torturing my stomach, I leave through the side door, not sure what to expect when I see him again.
Will he pretend nothing happened? Will it be awkward? Does he regret it?
Only, he’s not standing in the usual spot when I arrive.
A flare of panic hits me and I scan the area. Usually, he parks down the street, then walks me from the club to his truck.
I wrap my arms around myself.
Is he not coming back tonight?
The anxiety only marginally decreases when I spot his truck slowly rolling down the street toward me a moment later.
Mase briefly glances at me when he pulls up. “Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Then too quickly, his eyes return to facing ahead, hands strangling the steering wheel.
My movements are slow as I climb into the passenger seat, hesitant, like he might tell me not to get in. “That’s okay.” I buckle my seatbelt, watching him as I do. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to you earlier.”
“You were busy . . . working.” He starts driving. “I went to the gym for a workout.”
I ignore the first comment, knowing he saw me dance for that old man. “The gym? I didn’t realize it was open at this time of night.”
I saw and felt how rigid his shoulders were at the club, so he must have gone to let out some tension, or steam, or maybe even anger.
What if I’ve ruined things between us by dancing for him the way I did?
Then again, heaskedme to.
“It’s not. I used my key.”
That’s all he offers, and nodding silently, I don’t press for more.
The rest of the drive is done in strangled silence, which is different from our usual chatting. It feels like the silent air has a pulse, the beating loud and heavy between us.
Something changed for him when our lips almost met . . . I’m just not sure what it was.
For me, the thread that’s been pulling me to him tightened.
Once we’re home, the awkwardness continues after we walk through the door and take our jackets and shoes off. I’ve gotten used to Lulu being here to greet us, but now it’s just the two of us. I miss her already.
“Do you need the bathroom?” I ask lamely, just to break the quiet. “So you can shower first.”
I realized on the drive home that Mase was still dressed in his nice dress shirt and pants, sleeves rolled up on his forearms to reveal his ink. I wonder how comfortable that was to workout in. Or maybe he just took them off and worked out in his boxers. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, so it’s possible.
God, even my mind is trying to fill in the silence with random thoughts.
