Page 32 of Masquerade Mistake

“Oh my God, you dog,” I laugh. “I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on some guy for you.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he says. “It makes no sense that you don’t have a boyfriend. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, and I figured it wasn’t my business. I couldn’t help thinking you were trying to make me your side piece.”

Gorgeous. The fact that he thinks me, plain Claire, is gorgeous when he’s supposedly into supermodels does something to my ego. I smother a smile and focus on the part where he thought I was cheating.

“First off, ew. My mom was a great example as to why more than one man is a complication I shouldn’t have. Second, I haven’t dated for years because I just haven’t had the time or the energy. And third, how did you know it was Maren’s apartment?”

“Nina. I was with her when I pulled up directions on my phone, and she asked why I was going to Maren’s house. I told her I wasn’t, that I was going to yours. But I could tell Nina knew something I didn’t. She’s the one who suggested you might be pulling a fast one on me since Maren lives alone.”

I groan. Of course Nina told him that. She was probably paying me back for keeping this huge secret from her cousin.

“Let’s just say that if I were cheating on you, I’d probably tell you all about it since I obviously suck at lying.”

“Just don’t cheat on me, and we’re good.”

I bite my lip at the implications of this. Is he suggesting that we’re exclusive?

“So, this kid. What’s his name? Do I need to know anything before I meet him?” Ethan asks.

“Finn. And you’re not meeting him.” It slips out so fast, that I almost choke after I say it. “I mean, not yet. I just…I…”

“Claire, it’s fine,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me into his lap. I rest my head against his chest, lulled by the thrum of his heart. “I don’t know how these kinds of things work. I’ve never dated someone who has a kid, so I’m following your lead on this. Whatever you say is how it will go. I just have one request.”

I look up at him. “Yes?”

“Can I at least know where you live? I won’t drop by unannounced, and I’ll be as discreet as you want me to be. But I’d like to know where my girlfr—” He coughs, interrupting himself. “I mean, I’d like to know where you live.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he shoots me a sheepish look. “That sounded creepy. It’s just that, I like you, and I’d like to see more of you. Part of that is visiting you at your house, and you visiting me at mine. God, I don’t know how to say it without it sounding weird.”

I’m still recovering from him almost calling me his girlfriend. Why did he stop? I guess it’s early, but I think I want the label.

“You don’t sound weird,” I say, pressing against him as I peer into his eyes. “I’d love for you to see my home, and I’d love to see yours.”

It’s late when we finally leave the beach. As we head to his car, I realize my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It’s like this huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. He still doesn’t know who Finn is to him, but the fact that he knows about my son at all is a huge step forward.

Ethan asks a few questions about Finn and what it was like to become a parent when I was so young. I answer them all honestly, describing my struggle with insecurity.

“I essentially had to learn how to parent from scratch,” I say. “My mom wasn’t the best role model, and I didn’t want to raise him the same way. I did the best I could, but I went into it blind, not sure what the best actually looks like.”

“I’m sure you did a great job. I mean, he’s still alive, right?”

I laugh at this.

“Yes, but even a bad parent can keep a kid alive. It’s the stuff they do to their child’s insides that matter. I don’t want Finn to ever feel the way I felt growing up.”

“What about his dad?”

I knew this question was coming, but it still knocks the wind out of me. I look up at him, stalling as I try to find the best way to answer.

“He’s not in the picture,” I say, praying he won’t ask more. Ethan squeezes the hand he’s holding, offers me a sad smile.

“His loss, I’m sure.”

We reach Ethan’s car and he leans against the passenger side, holding me against his chest. I know he has more questions than the ones he voiced aloud, and I appreciate the caution he’s exercising. I can’t help feeling it’s one more sign that whatever this is between us will become so much more than what it already is. I look into his eyes, and cling to the warmth I see radiating back at me. It brings me back to a night like this, seven years earlier.

“I have a weird question for you,” I ask. “Have you ever worn contacts?”

“Random, but not weird. Why?”

“Just curious.”