The Mason Dixon Line (A Horizons Novel) (4 page)

She nudged him and he stepped out of the
doorway, stiff as an automaton. His shocked silence as she walked away put a
smile on her face. She’d won that round, no doubt about it.

So why was her own heart pounding like a
jackhammer out of control?

Holy shit, what had that been?

He didn’t know, but he was afraid he’d
liked it a little too much.

What had he done to bring that on? Had his
lust for her been that obvious? He’d tried hard to hide it when he’d stupidly
stepped so close behind her to help move the refrigerator. He should have told
her to move aside and let him do it, but he’d thought he could handle proximity
to her without turning into a horny bastard.

Wrong. He’d had to step away in a hurry,
hoping his untucked Weezer T-shirt hid his hard-on. Although maybe he shouldn’t
have worried one way or the other. Clearly Carolyn Hart didn’t shy away from
sex.

And you
wouldn’t have to either
. Despite the hard edge of mockery in the
little scene she’d just enacted, she wanted him too. He knew that without a
doubt.

But did he really want
her
, or had it been too long since he’s been with a woman? She
might be hot, but she was as shallow as a mud puddle.

Unfortunately that had no bearing on the
low vibration he felt in the pit of his stomach every time he looked at her.
The feeling wasn’t anxiety, but it made him anxious nonetheless.

He looked at himself in the bathroom
mirror. The blurry sight confused him until he realized his glasses were still on
top of his head where Carolyn had put them. His scalp still tingled from where
her nails had slipped through his hair. He shoved his glasses back into place
and eyed his reflection for a minute.

You are an
idiot, Mason Dixon. Any other guy would have her on the bed right now,
underneath him . . . or maybe on top.
His mind drifted away for a minute
as he mulled the possibilities. He snapped his focus back with effort.
Another man would have been all over her,
but you stood here like a schlump and then let her walk away
.

And that’s the way it would stay. His dick
wouldn’t like it, but his heart and brain would thank him later. He’d learned a
long time ago the kind of havoc women could cause him. He wasn’t like other
guys, and wanting it to be so didn’t make it happen. Sex made him get attached
to a woman, sometimes in spite of himself.

Like Lillian, the woman who’d moved upstairs
in his building in Chicago a couple of years ago. They’d been good friends,
going to catch live music together once in a while, having the occasional drink,
catching up on
Game of Thrones
at her
place. It had been fun, nice, and easy.

Then they’d slept together a few times, and
he’d gotten attached. Like he always did. He thought they were a couple, but
one morning, on his way out for a morning run, he’d seen another man emerging
from her apartment, kissing her, sliding his hand inside the front of her robe
and laughing.

He’d been furious, and Lillian had been
confused. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Mason. I thought we were just messing
around.”

She’d
been
messing around, but he’d been serious. And then he’d been seriously
heartbroken.

Not for the first time, he wished he’d been
born five hundred years ago. And Catholic. A monastic existence had its appeal
sometimes.

The car door slamming let him know Carolyn
had gone outside. Fine. He eyed the long tarp-covered box next to the door.
Best to get that into his aunt’s office and out of Carolyn’s sight before she
got curious and peeked. Something told him his glamorous roommate wouldn’t
appreciate sharing the cabin with a reptile for the week.

He hefted the long box and carried it to
his aunt’s office, and then took a few minutes to remove the tarp and plug in
the cage’s UV light. “You okay, Barney?”

Barney didn’t answer. He only looked at
him, his big eyes unblinking. That was the great thing about a pet. They
listened, or maybe they didn’t, but they never talked back. Unlike beautiful,
spoiled women who probably thought themselves way too good for a nerdy artist.

It didn’t matter anyway. He was here to
work, not find a girlfriend. Thank God. Drawing always helped him focus on what
was important, and the lust he had for Carolyn Hart was definitely not
important.

#

“That’s a lizard.” The sound of Carolyn’s
voice over his shoulder made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“No kidding. A chameleon, to be exact.” His
voice sounded steady, to his relief. He shot a sidelong glance at Carolyn. Her
eyes were focused on the chameleon he was sketching.

What did
you think, idiot? Just because she got close and nibbled your ear that she
wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes off of your hot cartoonist’s bod?

She’d probably forgotten all about that
incident. She’d done it to get the upper hand. Now that it had worked, she’d
never give him a second glance. The realization disappointed him.

God, what kind of a numb-nuts was he,
anyway?

A tiny line appeared between her dark
brows. They reminded him of movie-star brows from the old movies he’d seen—winged,
dark, and assertive. Cute against her blonde hair and fair skin. “But we didn’t
talk about a chameleon being the protagonist of the story.”

“We didn’t talk about anything. I’m just
doing some sketches. If you don’t like it, we won’t use him.” He stopped the
rapid movement of his pen across the paper and tilted his head, looking back
and forth between his sketch and the photo of a chameleon on his laptop screen.
He always drew from a photo for realism. “I messed up the curve of the tail,
but no worries. This is a practice drawing.”

“Why don’t you use a pencil so you can
erase, if it’s practice?” She took a seat next to him and scooted over close.
So close that her breast brushed against his arm.

He took one measured breath and another,
and then resumed drawing, trying to block out the warmth of her skin that
seeped through his clothing. “I do my rough sketches with a pen. I don’t want
to be tempted to try to make it perfect the first time.”

“Why not? Isn’t being perfect the point?”

“Being perfect is never the point.” He
looked up from his drawing. “Having fun is the point.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, excuse me.”

Of course she wouldn’t get it. He went over
the curve of the chameleon’s eye, emphasizing it until the thing looked like it
would bug off the page. “Besides, this first sketch is to be creative. You
know, like speed writing, turning off that internal editor and letting it flow.
Speaking of which, how is your first draft going?”

“See for yourself.” She shoved the notebook
at him. The page was blank.

“I think it's time for an exercise in
speed-writing. Five minutes for you to write the best story you can.” He went
to the kitchen and set the oven timer. "Don't think about it, just write.
Go."

She snatched back the notebook with a
mutinous look and bowed her head over it. After a moment, she started writing.

When the timer dinged, he extended a hand.
"Let's see what you got."

She slapped her pen down with a sigh and
shoved the notebook across the table to him.

He looked at the page, covered with her
meticulous teacher’s handwriting. Her neatness didn’t ease the agonizing task
of reading, though.

He should have asked her to type the draft,
but she’d preferred to do the first draft with a pen and paper. If she’d used a
laptop, he could have relied on his screen-reader.

Focus
. The word
had become his mantra over the years. He forced himself to stare at the page, looking
at each group of letters, trying to make them resolve into something meaningful
in his head.

Onde uoon a
tipe
. . .

No, that wasn’t it. He quieted his mind and
tried again.

Once upon a
time . . .

He straightened. “Really? You went with ‘Once
upon a time’?”

“It’s a first draft! What do you want,
greatness?”

He turned his attention back to her
writing.

It took him a while, but he eventually got
through the entire text.

He shot a look at Carolyn, only to find her
studying him. “Something the matter?”

“No, why?”

Her narrow shoulders shrugged. “Seemed like
you were taking a long time to read my story. I thought maybe you hated it.”
When he didn’t answer right away, she looked worried. “Do you hate it?”

“No, I don’t hate it.” The story had been
rough, but the exercise showed him one thing: Carolyn had talent. “You have a
way with words, and some great character details here.” He flipped the page,
reading the beginning again. “I liked the way you made the chameleon’s ability
to change color into a metaphor for a kid with special needs having to adapt to
the world around him.” It was a good idea, and one he might not have thought
of.

Despite himself, he was impressed.

Her face lit, and he wondered why. Girls
like her got plenty of validation in his experience. What did she care what
some weirdo like him thought?

#

Did he like it? He seemed to. She held her
breath, afraid to actually respond to his praise.

“The opener is a cliché, though, and the
character is way too cutesy. You’re talking down to these kids.” Teachers
always saw people like him as problems to be “fixed,” not appreciated on their
own terms. “We want to make these kids understand that they have gifts just as
they are. They don’t need to be patronized.”

She snatched the notebook out of his hand, tempted
to whack him with it. She might have known he’d be a jerk about it.

“I’m not patronizing anyone! And how do you
know so much about these kids, anyway? Sitting around in your apartment all
day, diddling around with a drawing pad has made you some kind of expert?”

“Diddling around with a drawing pad all day
has made me a decent living. Besides, I empathize with these kids.”

“And I don’t? I work with these kids every
day. I care about them.” She tapped the table. “And what the hell is your deal,
anyway? Because you had a hard time in school you think every teacher is a
horrible person?”

He leaned forward, punctuating every point
with a jab of his finger. “No, but I remember what I went through. In school, everything
is about the lowest common denominator and conformity. Kids have gifts that don’t
always show up on a standardized test.”

“I’m well aware of that. But we have to
teach kids, kids who have already struck out somewhere else. If a kid doesn’t
learn math and reading, they’re at a serious disadvantage in life. We can’t let
them blow it off and draw all day.”

“They’re also at a disadvantage if they don’t
discover what they’re good at, and explore their passions in life. If they
waste their lives on stupid stuff that doesn’t matter. I don’t know of any
greater tragedy. But hey.” He twiddled his pen. “Maybe you don’t agree?”

The last sentence had an edge to it. “Is
that some kind of commentary on me?” Ugh, she couldn’t believe she’d had her
lips near this guy a short hour ago. Instead of giving him a sexy nip, she
should have bitten him. Hard.

“Yes, as a matter of fact it is. Not every
kid is going to have a gold star next to his name on a behavior chart. That
doesn’t mean he’s worthless.”

“I didn’t say that it did. But if a child
doesn’t learn how to follow instructions and get along with others, he’s going
to have a hard time in life.” She leaned back and gave him a measured look. “I’d
say you’re a case in point.”

“You don’t think I can get along with
others?”

“Damn right I don’t.”

“I have friends,” he insisted. “A few good
friends is all you need in life. Who needs a bunch?”

“Oh, definitely not you," she mocked. "I’m
sure you’re above all that kind of thing.”

“I wasn’t the most popular kid in my class,
but guess what? The guy who was is working at a dollar store now, last I heard.”

“And you’re above that? Working at a dollar
store is beneath you?” Hah. She
knew
he was a superior snob.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, but I’m
sure it’s not what he expected when he was beating up anyone smaller, weaker,
or smarter than him. At least I don’t have to worry that my best days are
behind me. He peaked a little too soon in life, you know what I mean? Like
somebody else I could name, I’ll bet.”

Peaked too
soon.

The words froze her. For a moment, she
couldn’t breathe. He’d said it. Right there, he’d blurted out her worst fear,
the thing that kept her changing majors and contemplating a new career every
six months.

She stood, feeling numb. She had no words
to rebut that, no witty rejoinders that would leave him gasping for words. He’d
seen right through her. Not many men did—not many
people
did. Men tended to get distracted by her blonde hair and
boobs. Very few had ever said anything insightful about
her
.