"It was him?"
"Yep."
Her face drains of color. "Oh, no," she whispers, dismayed. "I think…I messed up."
"What? How?"
"I need to go!" she cries, plunking her mug down on the island. "I need to go right now."
"What? Why?"
"I'll explain later! Watch the store until Lilah gets here!" she cries, already rushing for the door.
I just stare after her, confused as hell. What the hell happened between her and Jasper? And who the hell did she meet on her blind date if not him? I have so many questions.
I guess I'll have to wait for answers because she's already gone, the bell chiming behind her. And I'm stuck here when I should be packing my entire house to move to Europe.
Mason probably hates me right now. Honestly, who could blame him?
"I'm such an idiot," I groan.
Chapter Five
Mason
Going to the bookstore to see Olive is probably a bad idea, but I'm slowly losing my mind. It's been a week since she called the police on my mother's bird, and I haven't seen her once.
I've taken to lingering in the front yard like a goddamn nuisance, trying to catch her off guard. So far, no dice. She's avoiding the hell out of me. It's making me nuts.
Ineedto see her again.
So the bookstore is my only option. I know she's here today. I called ahead to ask. That's right. I've officially reached the willing-to-do-shady-shit-to-win level of whatever game the two of us are playing. I'm harassing her coworkers and friends now.
The woman I spoke with—I think she said her name is Jazz—asked if I was the hot neighbor with the murder bird. I'm not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign, but she promised to stall Olive long enough for me to get here.
My girl is setting up a display table, lost in her work, when I stroll in. She doesn't hear the bell. She doesn't see me, either. She's meticulously arranging books wrapped in kraft paper, humming to herself. She looks as beautiful as ever in a soft pink sweater and a black skirt.
The woman at the counter sees me staring at Olive, looks me up and down, and then smirks before vanishing into the back.
I take a step toward Olive, clearing my throat.
She freezes.
"You've been avoiding me, Rebel," I growl softly, stalking toward her before she decides to bolt for the back.
"Yes," she admits, shocking me. I expected a furious denial. "I've been busy, Mason."
"Yeah? Busy with what?"
"Well, the first few days, I was busy researching which European country I should move to, and how to legally change my name," she says without turning around. "But that seemed like a lot of paperwork and manual labor, and I don't want to do either. So then I started looking for an apology card, but apparently, no one makes one that says, 'Sorry I thought you were a serial killer and called 9-1-1 on your bird'." Her shouldersslump. "Now, I'm busy trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door to apologize."
"How's that going for you?" I ask, stopping right behind her.
"Not so well," she admits. "Turns out, I'm a coward."
I take a chance and reach out, curving my hand around her waist. She spins toward me, looking up at me with those big green eyes that see all the way to my goddamn soul.
"I'm so, so, so, so sor—"