Chapter 4 – Confusion

Aria 

“You’re sweating so much. Should I put the glass down?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes glued to me, one hand on the wheel, the other lazily holding the glass.

My pulse jumped. My palms were slick, my chest tight, and every breath felt like it scraped against my throat.

“No! Just drive!” I snapped, sharper than I intended. My voice cracked at the edges, betraying nerves I couldn’t hide. I refused to look at him. God, I couldn’t. If I looked, really looked, at his face, I was afraid I’d see something that tied him to that night. That night I was trying so hard to bury, to erase.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping my knees with both hands. It was just a one-night stand. Nothing more. Forget it. Forget him.

The car lurched suddenly to a halt. My body jerked forward, a gasp tearing from my lips.

My heart stopped.

I turned slowly, dread curling inside me. He leaned closer. Too close. His warmth pressed into my space, his arm brushing mine, the faint scent of his cologne, sharp, dark, intoxicating, filling my nose. My breath caught in my throat.

“What?” I whispered, the sound barely a thread of air.

And then…I saw him properly.

The harsh line of his jaw. Those piercing eyes. That smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Mason?

No. Not quite. His features were sharper, harsher, like Mason but carved from steel instead of flesh. My brows knit tightly. Mason never told me he had a brother.

“You didn’t wear your seatbelt,” he murmured, his voice cool, unbothered.

Before I could react, his hand slid across me. His knuckles grazed my arm, his fingers brushing against my side as he reached for the buckle. My skin flinched at the contact, shivers scattering down my body. He clicked the belt into place, the sound final, like a lock snapping shut.

Then his eyes met mine, dark, unblinking, steady. “Safety first.”

The corners of his lips curved upward. Not a smile. A tease.

Was he…flirting with me? My throat tightened. God, did he not see how broken I looked? The exhaustion beneath my eyes? The hollowness I’d been carrying? Couldn’t he see how ugly I felt inside?

He pulled back, the heat of his body retreating, and turned the ignition again. Silence swallowed us. The engine hummed, the road unspooled beneath us, but neither of us spoke.

Then, abruptly, he slowed, pulling up in front of a store.

“Get out,” he ordered, already pushing his own door open.

“Why?” I asked, clinging to the seat, unwilling to move.

“We need to get something for the bride and groom.”

My brows shot up. “You don’t even know them.”

That grin again, lazy and sharp. He leaned against the door, studying me. “Who told you that? The groom’s my friend. Actually…he owns the Mask Club. You know it, right?” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous edge sliding into it. His eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you’ve been there… gotten a little freaky under the mask?”

My stomach plummeted. My heart stopped.

No.

He couldn’t know. He couldn’t.

“Shut the fuck up!” My voice cracked, loud and jagged. My chest heaved as I flung the door open, gulping air like I was drowning. “You know nothing!”

My legs trembled as I stumbled out, breath ragged.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Just turned, calm as ever. “Come inside,” he said, as if nothing happened, his voice smooth and mocking. He walked ahead casually, like he owned the world.

Against every instinct screaming at me to run, I followed.

But when I stepped inside, my breath snagged.

This wasn’t just a store.

It was…something else.

Rows of lace lingerie hung from racks, delicate and obscene all at once. Shelves gleamed with vibrators, restraints, bottles with labels that made my cheeks burn. Pleasure oils. Chains. Whips. My entire body flushed with heat. My feet wanted to glue themselves to the floor and never move again.

He glanced over his shoulder, smirk intact. “Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable. I can tell by one look…you’re no longer a virgin.”

Rage shot through me, quick and sharp. My fists balled so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

Before I could spit the venom rising in my throat, he strolled forward, plucking several boxes of condoms from a shelf. He dropped them onto the counter like it was nothing.

“I’ll take these. Pack it up,” he said coolly.

I blinked at him, incredulous. “Aren’t you going to pay?”

He tilted his head toward me, eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, that?” His smirk deepened. “This is my shop.”

My jaw slackened. “You…sell these?”

“Yeah,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Problem?”

I shook my head quickly. “No,” I muttered, backing a step away, trying to reclaim even an inch of space.

He didn’t let me. Instead, he stepped closer, holding a box out toward me. His fingers brushed mine deliberately. “It’s important. Unlike some people who forget to use one. Maybe you need it…next time.”

Humiliation and fury clashed in my chest. “I don’t need it!”

“Just trying to help,” he said, grin sharp enough to cut, then turned and walked out. “Get in. We don’t have all day.”

I followed, silent, tension thick between us in the car.

When we arrived at the wedding, the ceremony was over. Guests stood in clusters, chatting, laughing, glasses clinking. I scanned the crowd, panic lacing my chest.

“Mason?” I whispered, searching.

“Looking for me?”

The voice came from behind.

I turned, and there he was.

Mason.

God. My knees nearly buckled. That black suit clung to him perfectly, his broad shoulders cutting a sharp figure against the crowd. He looked like he belonged at the altar himself, like he should be the one the world revolved around today.

My heart stumbled.

“You…why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?” My voice shook. “I was scared. You didn’t even tell me beforehand.”

“Stepbrother,” he corrected softly. “Same dad, different moms. I’m my mom’s only child. I’d never lie to you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I had a lot on my mind.”

His hand landed gently on my shoulder. The warmth seared through my dress, into my skin. My cheeks flamed instantly.

“Are you sick? Why’s your face so red?” Jim’s mocking voice cut in.

“Mind your business,” I snapped, shooting him a glare.

Mason’s low laugh vibrated beside me. “Knew you two would get along.”

He led me toward Bianca, the bride, who beamed when she saw him.

“Mason! I didn’t know you’d come. Thank you.” She turned to me, her eyes warm. “You too. Come meet my husband.”

My stomach flipped violently.

Her husband. The man. The one who had given me the mask.

And then everything unraveled, Bianca’s resistance, Mason’s sudden appearance, and then…the tattoo. On Mason’s neck.

Cold horror flooded me.

He had it too.

My breath caught. My vision blurred. Three men. One tattoo. Which one was it? Which one had been with me that night?

I couldn’t breathe.

And before I could ground myself, Bianca’s voice rang sharp, taunting Mason. His face hardened instantly. His eyes darkened, then, suddenly, his hand gripped my neck and his lips crashed into mine.

The world disappeared.

His kiss was heat and fire, rough and claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. His mouth devoured mine like he owned me.

And I melted.

Every wall I had built shattered. My body betrayed me, leaning into him, clutching his suit, needing him closer. I had dreamed of this moment for years. And now, it was real.

When he pulled away, his breath still brushed mine. His words, loud enough for Bianca to hear, cut the air like a knife.

“See? I’m over you, Bianca. She and I? We’re a thing now.”

My world spun. My lips tingled. My chest soared.

Until—

“I didn’t mean it,” Mason’s voice cut me down at the beach later, his tone cold. “I kissed you to make her jealous. That’s all.”

The ground caved beneath me. My chest hollowed. The kiss that felt like everything…meant nothing to him.

“What?”

“Let me take you home." Jim appeared, grabbing my hand, and Mason grabbed the other, both furious, both possessive, I stood in the middle.

“You won't take her home. She's mine.”