All the attention he attracts would be enough to intimidate me if this were a real date. Or if I hadn’t gotten used to the effect Mason has on the opposite sex years ago.
Mason has always been gorgeous, magnetic, and way hotter for a man than I am for a woman. I have healthy self-esteem, and I don’t think I’m unattractive by any stretch, but I’m also a realist. When it comes to looks, Mason and I aren’t playing in the same league.
But that never bothered me back when we were Mason and Lark. It didn’t matter how many prettier, thinner, big-boobier women ogled my boyfriend. Mason only had eyes for me. To him, I was the most beautiful woman in the world. The way he used to look at me left no doubt about that.
Who am I kidding?
There’s nothing past tense about that look. Mason still looks at me like I’m something magical, a rare enchanted unicorn princess he’s proud to help from his car.
The look used to make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
Now, it makes my forehead wrinkle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mumble, pulling my hand from his and moving onto the sidewalk as he shuts the door behind me.
“Like what?” he asks as the gentle May breeze ruffles his hair, making him look even more gorgeous, like a guy who should model really manly sweater-vests on a yacht.
The woman in the sundress who stopped to gape is still staring, her gaze darting between us. She’s obviously trying to discern if Mason is taken. I barely resist the urge to step around him and insist she run for her life. Men who look at you like an enchanted unicorn one day and bail on your engagement the next can’t be trusted. Black Sundress would be wise to stay the heck away.
So would I, but I agreed to this week of dates for some stupid reason and I never go back on my word.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t lay down some ground rules. “You know like what,” I say to Mason, my tone cool. “We’re here to get to know the people we are now, not to go walking down memory lane. And that look is straight out of memory lane.”
Mason sighs, seeming so deflated that for a moment I feel guilty.
Then I remember that he’s the one who is a runner and an engagement bailer and a heart destroyer and lift my chin higher in the air. Stay strong. I have to stay strong.
“Got it,” Mason says softly. “No enchanted unicorn look.”
My chest tightens. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything,” he says, in a voice that makes my bare arms prickle and my heart ache.
“Not everything,” I say, trying to lighten the moment. “It was like a unicorn princess. Not just a unicorn because that would be weird. I’m assuming you’re not into unicorns.”
“No, I’m not,” Mason says, shoving his hands into his pockets and wandering toward the east end of downtown. “At least not in that way.”
“Oh?” I arch a brow. “In what way are you into unicorns?”
“In the way most non-perverts are into unicorns,” he says with a straight face. “I respect the gore-potential inherent in their horn and admire their silky manes and propensity for wish granting, but the feelings end there.”
My lips quirk. “Propensity for wish granting. You and your twelve dollar words.”
Mason grins. “I hear some girls like big words. Or they used to, anyway.”
“Nope, now I just like big dong.” I fight a laugh as Mason’s jaw drops, but can’t help myself. “Kidding,” I add with a giggle. “I’m kidding. Sorry. I couldn’t resist the joke. You set me up too perfectly.”
Mason’s eyes flash with appreciation. “Don’t apologize. I like raunchy-joke-making Lark.”
“Yeah, well, I’m older and slightly raunchier than I used to be,” I say, before adding quickly, “But don’t get any ideas. It was just a joke.”
“Obviously,” he says mildly. “And I’ve never had an idea in my life.”
“Right.” I try to stop smiling, but fail. I’ve always loved bantering with Mason, and that he gets my sense of humor so completely.
Before I met him, Melody and Aria were the only people in the world who could make me giggle until my sides hurt. Finding someone outside my family who laughed at all the same things I did, and didn’t judge me when I snorted lemonade through my nose during a giggle attack, was…special.
“So how hungry are you?” Mason asks.
I shrug. “Not starving, but I didn’t have dinner.” I pause at the last street corner before the downtown area gives way to strip malls and bodegas, with a few apartment buildings scattered in between. “We should probably turn around. All the restaurants are still on the other side of downtown.”
“I was thinking something a little less formal.” Mason takes my hand as the sign flickers to “walk.”