The Tenant (7 page)

He slammed the door shut, not bothering to turn off the overhead light. Miss High-and-Mighty would be chipping in for utilities from now on, too.

On second thought, he went around the apartment and turned all the lights on, before hitting the shower.

The water pelted down on him, and he allowed a sigh to rattle his chest and slip out his lips. He was miserable. A miserable dick who ruined everything he touched. Amanda would find that out soon enough, when her wedding was put off indefinitely.

How horrible a person was he for enjoying that thought?

No worse than her parents, who’d more or less given him the go-ahead to meddle.

But Kenneth assured him it would be for Amanda’s own good not to get married to Mason, and Kenneth had to know best, right? So Derek was being a noble dick by stopping her from living the life of her dreams.

Right?

Wrong. It felt completely wrong. He could only hope she’d keep being her infuriating self, so he could continue being a jerk without his conscience bugging him. Not that the rational part of his brain would stop nagging. No matter how he tried shaping it, allowing her to move in made no sense whatsoever.

Yes, he liked Kenneth, but Derek wasn’t convinced he’d let Amanda move in as a favor to her father. He could have stopped her, sent her home to her family, and explained to Kenneth he couldn’t stand the thought of sharing space with her—that he was mourning the loss of his happiness. He hadn’t. He’d grumbled and whined, and yet he’d let her get comfortable.

What was up with that?

Instead of lingering on that conundrum, he rinsed, wiped, and went to his bedroom to spend some quality time with himself.

Amanda was trying really hard to enjoy her lunch.

It was a celebratory lunch, after all—a lunch to commemorate her first day out of her lease and into her own apartment, consisting of yummy, fattening dishes.

She found herself wolfing down her food, paying no attention to its taste. The sooner she finished eating, the sooner she could go back home and make sure What’s-his-Name didn’t mess with her stuff.

She choked on a large bite of pasta, coughed, and washed it down with her diet cola before looking up at her sister.

“You know, chewing your food usually helps with swallowing it,” Alice said. Her own plate was mostly untouched.

“Aren’t you eating? Don’t you like your burger?”

“It’s great, but I’m having more fun watching you pig out.”

Amanda snorted. “Like you’re little Miss Delicate.”

“Oh, I can pig out with the best of them.” Alice stressed her point by stuffing her face with fries. “I usually do it ’cause I like what I’m eating, though.” She spoke with her mouth full, treating Amanda to a perfect view of the insides of her mouth.
Yuck
. “And I don’t check my watch all the time. Do you have someplace else to be? I thought today was us-day.”

Amanda shook her head, making a conscious effort not to immediately fork down another mouthful. “It
is
us-day. I’m just—”

“Practicing for an eating contest?”

“No, dumbo. I’m worried your nice,
adorable
Derek will have peed on all my clothes by the time we get back.”

Alice laughed. “I don’t think he’d take marking his territory that far.”

Amanda wasn’t all that sure about that. “He doesn’t seem acquainted with the word ‘civilized.’” She took her time twirling her fork inside her pasta, but didn’t bring it to her lips. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t have a place yet—though he should have—but you’d expect him to be nicer about the whole thing.”

Her little sister widened her eyes. “Seriously? You think
you’re
being nice about it?”

“That’s completely different.” Amanda pushed her chair back and crossed her arms. “What he’s doing is screwing with my future.”

“And what you’re doing is screwing with his present.” Alice took a bite of her burger then stuffed an onion ring in her mouth. “Neither of you is being an adult about it, and this is coming from me, of all people. Derek’s gone through a very messy breakup that cost him his business among other things. You know what it’s like to have your heart broken. God knows you were an über-bitch after you and Parker parted ways.”

Amanda really had been one. She winced at the memory. “But look how that turned out: I have Mason now.”

Alice let out a noncommittal sound that was her most subtle way of expressing disapproval.“Do we have to go over this again? I love Mason, and he loves me. We’re good together.”

Alice seemed to mull something over before finally saying, “Mom made me promise I’d shut up about this, but you’re running out of time, and I can’t live with my conscience if I don’t say something.”

“Running out of time for what?” Amanda asked, brow furrowed.

“Avoiding the biggest mistake of your life.” Alice stressed her words with an overly dramatic roll of her eyes. “Marrying Mason.”

Amanda gaped. She knew Alice hadn’t been one of Mason’s greatest fans to begin with, but he’d seemed to grow on her eventually. “I thought you liked him now. I mean, you seem to get along well.” She reached for a roll, wishing her sister would drop the subject, so they could finish their lunch and get back home.

Alice put her hand over hers, stilling it. “This isn’t about me liking him. He’s nice, and I do believe he loves you in his own way. I don’t think you love him—not enough to bind your life to him, anyway. And I don’t think his way of loving is good for you.”

She grabbed the bread Amanda had been going for. “Mason wants a…a
li’l woman
. He doesn’t want a martial arts instructor who can kick his ass to next Sunday without even ruining her manicure. He wants a Miss Suzie Homemaker with the
Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval
stamped on her forehead, and you burn salad. And I wouldn’t mind what he wants, if he didn’t think you were obligated to be those things. Worse, if you didn’t act like you agreed with him.”

“I don’t—” She most definitely did, but didn’t have time to lie, because Alice cut her off.

“You turn into a whole different person around him, Amanda. You stop being you and become this Stepford robot thing. I’m not saying you shouldn’t cook for your man and take care of him if you feel like it, but the way you automatically change into a background element when he’s around freaks me out. I know it freaks you out too, because I see the real Amanda showing through the cracks once in a while, and that makes me a thousand percent certain marrying him won’t work. You’ll be miserable.”

Amanda had heard enough. For better or worse, she’d chosen to be with Mason. It shouldn’t be so hard for her sister to respect that. “You don’t like him. For whatever reason, you’ve decided he’s not good enough for your big sis, but Mason’s the one who saved me. I was broken when I met him. You know that.”

She’d met Mason a few months after finding out Parker had cheated on her with at least two of his college students during their two years together. Mason was the exact opposite. “He’s strong and dependable and so nice to me, Alice. You just don’t get us.”

“I get
you
, though. He was in the right place at the right time, but that doesn’t make him Mr. Right. I know he likes taking care of you and makes you feel safe, but a big cuddly dog could probably make you feel the same, including the same degree of passion. You should get married to a guy you’re head over heels for. Someone you can’t live without, who—who loves bitchy Amanda and cranky Amanda too, and who can take you on when you’re in a mood, instead of…disapprovingly staring you down.”

Amanda opened her mouth, closed it, and scrunched her face. “Your food is getting cold,” she said. This discussion was over, as far as she was concerned. She cared about Mason, and when sex entered the equation, she’d be crazy for him. And if she wasn’t? Well, she’d been madly in love with Parker, and look how that turned out.

“Amanda—”

“No. The subject of Mason is closed. We’re getting married, and we’ll live happily ever after.” Her words held the conviction she needed to feel. She needed her happily ever after. Her heart had been broken into too many pieces for it to ever mend completely, and Mason’s hands were just big and safe enough to hold it without shattering it again.

Alice nodded. “Okay, change of subject. How come Becca didn’t help out with the move? Thought carrying heavy loads was part of the BFF’s job description.”

“She said she’s on a deadline and will be missing in action for a couple days.”

“Convenient. Bet it’s a new guy.”

“I know, right?” It was so much easier talking about her best friend’s busy love life than her own. That and shoes would have to serve as small talk until both their plates were clean and Amanda could go home.

•●•

As much as she wanted to forget what her sister said, Amanda couldn’t stop flashing back to it all once she was home. It wasn’t as if Alice had hidden her feelings about Mason in the past, but she’d never before been so vocal about them either. Could she be right? Should Amanda be head over heels? Was passion more important to a marriage than compatibility, safety, and trust were?

Were she and Mason compatible and safe? Did they trust each other?

Alice was at least partially right; she and Mason had different ideas of how a woman should behave, but Mason would see things her way eventually. He would.

Wouldn't he?

Sure he would! She had no doubt he loved her. People who loved somebody were supposed to accept that somebody, flaws and all. It was her fault she hadn’t shown him more of her flaws in the beginning, but he’d been so proper, her knight in shining armor, and she’d put on her best behavior for him. That was practically dating law.

And they were safe with each other. That he didn’t make her heart go a mile a minute meant she could be with him without worrying she’d be crippled by sorrow if he ever left.

If she trusted Mason, however, and he trusted her, how come she hadn’t told him about…

“Are you done in there?” An annoying male voice brought her out of her musings.

Alice might have been right about Derek too, but Amanda couldn’t afford to be understanding. Still, she was being more difficult than was good for either her or him, so maybe she could try to be nicer until he moved out—which would still need to be as soon as possible.

“No!” she yelled back, leaning her head against the wall so the shower jet could hit her shoulders. She’d start being nicer in the morning. For the time being, she wasn’t feeling it.

“I need to use the toilet.” Derek rattled the door handle. “You don’t have enough of a body to be washing it for that long.”

“Use the guest bathroom,” she said and lathered her hair with a second helping of shampoo.

“I can’t. My stuff’s in there.”

So that was where he’d put the junk she’d taken out of her room. “Well, use the balcony. Or the kitchen sink. I don’t care. I’m enjoying my shower.” Screw being nice. She severely disliked him. Her fingers rubbed furious circles on her scalp.

“What kind of a house were you brought up in?” he asked.

She stuck her head under the water. If he really used the kitchen sink, she’d soak his bed with toilet bowl water. “You can hold it. You’re a big boy.” The corners of her lips tugged upward.

“You realize I can kick my way in, don’t you? Door’s flimsy.”

“I think destruction of property might be a valid enough reason for me to get rid of you with the law on my side. I bet I could add voyeurism charges to that.” Her threat seemed to do the trick, because he finally shut up.

She took her time shaving her legs and underarms, rinsing her body, and brushing her teeth. Her beauty regime done, she put on her robe and exited, ready to get into Derek’s face.

She didn’t get to. He rushed past her and into the bathroom, grumbling.

“Enjoy,” she called out, padding barefoot to her room. When there was no reply, she shrugged and closed her door behind her. Minutes later, she heard his door sliding shut, and a key turning. Was he afraid she’d sneak in his bedroom in the middle of the night?

Her mood was better than it had been since lunch. The shower and her chance to torture Derek just a little bit had relaxed her. She’d call Mason to see how he was doing, and then she’d pamper herself. Moisturizing cream, nail clippers, nail file, and natural nail polish were all put into a neat row. She pulled back her chair and her foot landed on something.