Unmasked

Valerie's POV

Finn made lunch—if you could call a piece of bread with melted cheese lunch—and we ate outside on the lower deck. Had I eaten the sandwich because I enjoyed its taste or simply because Finn made it? If I were a betting woman, I'd place my bet on the later. The rest of the afternoon was strange. I disappeared into my bathroom for an hour—wasting the planet's water for thinking. Afterward, I secluded myself in my room, hanging everything I'd brought. Then, I was extra picky selecting an outfit, choosing an open-back romper. The top was white, done in crochet patchwork and the shorts were white with blue gardenia print designs. I needed to find nail polish to match my outfit, so, of course that took another half hour: I decided on the pale aquamarine.

From time to time, my heart lurched to a stop. Finn was right. Those floorboards squeaked. He walked past my bedroom a couple of times; I think he stopped outside once. Or maybe I was being silly.

My phone pinged. It was Ava saying they were outside. I sent her the gate code ignoring the wave of disappointment. I slipped on the stunning thong sandals I bought, as a present for myself, in a shopping spree with Emma. They were my favorite pair: light gold colored and decorated with crystal jewels. I stopped—hand stilling on the knob. My insides were twisty. I'd been juggling memories of Mom, keeping absurdly busy or distracting myself with last night. I leaned my forehead on the door; thinking about last night wouldn't help my anxiety. I glared at the silver bangle encircling my wrist and began worrying about it slipping from its spot—where the scar was. It was a stupid thought. It was a hard piece to get loose… I jumped, startled at the knock.

Finn's voice came from the other side.

"Valerie? Gabriel's parking inside…" he trailed off as I re-gripped the doorknob and opened the door. "Damn." I forced myself not to fidget under his melting gaze. Or to shiver as slate eyes rode across my—my everything. Stopping on my face. He looked adorably speechless.

I stepped outside. Finn stayed rooted on spot, tracing my movements. He was wearing a white V-neck and navy cargo shorts. Darker waves were curling near his forehead. Finn blinked before swinging his head towards the stairs.

"We should get down there. They'll think it's weird if we…"

"Okay!" I agreed too loudly and quickly. Enough to make Finn's shoulders jump as his eyes returned to me. I was already heading down the corridor, though. I shoved the bitter tang from my mouth, summoning a decent, polite smile halfway down the stairway. Still, a sudden unwanted thought plagued me as I opened the front door: did Jackson feel like this when I rejected him?

"That damn camera…" I swore under my breath. Ava's Cannon hung around her neck. Her smile was so wide I couldn't stop a grin. She was too easy to please.

Finn's arm brushed mine as he edged around me, walking down the steps. Not casting me a glance. He dodged a bouncing Ava, making his way towards Gabe's Jeep where Thomas, Gabriel and Sharon Stone were mobilizing. Sharon and I ran in different circles, but I was aware of her golden girl stature among the high society.

A loud click later, I saw sunbursts. Damn it, Ava! I rubbed my eyes, glad I wasn't wearing make-up, aside from my trademark lipstick. I glared at her—or tried to.

"That camera is going to have a watery grave." It was an empty threat and Ava knew it.

"I'm sorry we took this long! We hit snags on the way…" I shrugged. "Were you guys bored?" I led her inside the foyer. Ava wasn't nearly as impressed as Finn. It didn't come as a shock; the Harrington household was a big place to visit.

"Ah…" I couldn't blush. Quickly, I thought of things that made me angry: Jackson, Christian Freight, sloppy manicures, Brenda… Yeah, that last one worked like a charm. "We tolerated one another. It was boring, I'm glad you're finally here." Lie. Partial lie. I was glad more people were here but wasn't.

I groaned inwardly. I detested mixed feelings.

A rumble of male voices got closer. I snuck a look behind me. Thomas and Finn were walking side-by-side each carrying a large suitcase—obviously one was Ava's. Gabriel was carrying a large leather bag; Sharon tugged a case behind her, looking like she'd just woken up from a nap. Thomas and I acknowledged each other as he entered the house. My eyes skipped across Finn's face, not missing the absent attention he'd payed me all morning.

I turned back to Ava, "I'll show you upstairs first."

"Great!"

"Slow down before you slip and break your neck…" Thomas' advice fell on deaf ears as Ava skipped behind me.

I led us past the first floor, reaching the top. Me and Ava stepped into a small foyer. Double doors led into the recreational room where Finn's true love, Ms. Pac Man, found itself in. An identical bay window to the one in my bedroom allowed sunlight to filter in. Opposite to the double doors, was a door leading into my parents' old suite. Dad wouldn't mind if someone used it—since he wouldn't. There was another door, leading into another guest room.

Ava's jaw slacked at the large suite, while my fingers curled tightly on the doorjamb. I could overcome the nostalgia digging claws in my heart. My parents' old room was a play of black and white color. Black and white curtains hung behind the large bed, covering two tall windows. Across the room, though, was a wall made from pieced mirrors. The two mirror panels at floor-level worked as doors into two separate walk-in closets. Next to the bedroom door was a white door leading into a large bathroom.

"This is… wow." Ava stepped in, eyes brushing across sleek furniture.

"That's an accurate description." I heaved—chuckling quietly. I needed to focus on the moment, not on all the times Mom braided my hair while I sat on this bed.

Ava tossed me a glare. I pretended to lean on the threshold, when in truth, my legs were becoming jelly.

"This is fantastic." She whirled around, sitting on the silky duvet. Ava studied the ceiling.

"Thanks…" Mom decorated most of the house. Especially this room. I was just about done explaining where the bathroom was and about the closets, when heavy steps paddled across the floor.

"What took you guys so long?"

"Is she serious?" it was Finn.

"I hope not." Thomas answered, carrying himself inside. "We were hauling these." He delivered a pointed glare at the suitcase. I glued my back to the doorsill once Finn walked past me, playing pack-mule same as Harrington.

Finn cast me a brief funny look. I squeezed my lips.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about those…" Ava grinned at her boyfriend.

"No, you didn't." Thomas countered easily.

The brunette's shoulder hiked.

"No, I didn't. I just didn't want to carry it." Harrington smoothed a thumb across an eyebrow. I think it was a tic. "Thank you for helping, Finn."

Finn tipped his head in response, busily examining the bedroom. Normal, since I hadn't shown it to him. Thomas let out a low whistle dropping beside Ava; she leaned in to kiss his cheek and ended up getting a smooch on the lips.

"Where are your rooms?"

"Downstairs." Finn and I shared a look.

There was no missing the wolfish grin crossing Thomas' face.

"Now that's what I call being in harmony with each other." Good news: Thomas had successfully dissolved thoughts about my Mom to dust. Bad news: I remembered just how synchronized Finn and I had been last night.

"Knock it off, Trip." Finn pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm going to show Gabriel and Sharon their rooms." I turned on my heel.

***

Finn's POV

"Can you please stop with the little comments?"

"What comments?" Trip's head whipped to me. Valerie was getting Gabriel and Sharon settled. Ava was uber excited exploring the house. "When Ava gets a look at this view she's going to flip." He made a pained face. "She's not going to stop with that camera."

I frowned. Hadn't I heard Valerie complain about the same thing? Huh. And here I thought these two had nothing in common. Except their mutual liking of Ava. Plus, overabundance of money.

"Don't play stupid." I fixed Trip with a long suffering glare. "I don't want Valerie to lose it and kick me out."

Trip slapped my shoulder in friendly dismissal.

"It was a joke, man. Lighten up." But it wasn't a joke—not anymore. It bothered me that I couldn't tell him, but it also made me relieved—to an extent. Not in a trillion years would I be ready to hear Trip say: I was right! Or for his giant shit eating grin. "What did you guys do today?"

I looked out—at the lake.

"Nothing much. She showed me around. I went for a swim, played Ms. Pac Man…" I shrugged. I'd taken Trip for a tour of my own. He hadn't given two shits about the arcade game, he'd been much more interested in the pool table. "I made us some lunch, because Valerie is worse than you in the kitchen." I buffered a laugh as Trip's blue eyes burned with the word MURDER. "Then she disappeared into her room and I went…"

"Back to your arcade game." I nodded. Out of the blue, a pair of hands covered Trip's eyes. "Gabe, we've talked about this, not when Ava's around…" Ava's hands fell away; she slapped him upside the head, cutting off his laughter. "Ouch!"

Ava made to go back to the living room. Trip wasn't about to let her; he grabbed her hips, dragging Ava to his lap. She tried to squirm away until he threatened to tickle her to death.

"I put our stuff away…" Thomas and Ava went on talking; it was something about the oversized jacket Ava was wearing and blah, blah… I tuned out. Especially once Sharon, Gabriel and Valerie joined us outside.

Gabriel sat down. He threw his arms open, resting them along the couch. He heaved a massive sigh.

"I'm starving."

Sharon sat beside Gabriel. Not close enough to touch, but still pretty close. She was pretty. Her brown hair was short and straight, reaching the middle of her neck. She wasn't nearly as blessed in the chest department as Valerie—or Ava. She was skinny and elegant in her movements. She had a cute button nose.

Sharon gave Gabe a shove to the side, "Great. You can hit the kitchen."

"You know how to cook?"

Gabriel lifted a shoulder in the laziest way possible.

"That's the only reason I invited him." Trip's lip curled. Sharon sniggered.

Gabe sighed like a martyr and stood, swaggering towards the kitchen. A hush fell over our group before Trip broke the ice. He turned between Sharon and Valerie, talking about how Gabriel met Sharon before he had. Trip couldn't have caught me more off guard if I were shit-faced drunk.

"…yeah, so I transferred to their school and met Trip." I caught the end of Sharon's explanation.

"Which one's worse?" I felt Trip glaring at me. I smiled at Sharon, pleased with myself.

I think I spoke for everyone—who wasn't Trip—when I said we were excited to have Sharon, to get dirt on them. Sharon caught on fast, sending a roundabout smirk to all of us. She pointed a thumb over her shoulder—at the kitchen.

"Gabe. All the way." My suspicions were confirmed. "Gabe started smoking when he was twelve. He used to spend a lot of time over at my place, so, every once in a while, he hid a pack in my room." She draped a leg underneath herself getting comfortable. "Long story short, my mother found a pack and was convinced it was mine. I was grounded for weeks for "supporting a filthy, dangerous habit" and she forbid Gabe to set foot in our house."

"For how long?" Ava asked.

"Oh," Sharon buffeted a laugh. "He's still banned. My mother hates him."

"Yeah. Gabe has a way with parents. And butlers." Thomas chuckled. I spied him a grave look. "Yes, I had a butler at my parents' house. Like Batman. Get over it."

Ava leaned back, stretching her body towards me, whispering, "He wears a bowtie!"

From an eye corner, I saw Valerie's expression brighten. Good. It would suck if she felt left out at her own house.

"Do you have any funny stories on Trip?"

"Huh…" Sharon steepled a finger to her lips, thoughtful. That same finger jutted into the air a few seconds later. "Yes! The first time he smoked pot…" Ava giggled. Presumably, he already knew the story. Sharon shared it anyway, recounting Trip's inability to take a drag and get the smoke into his lungs. "…after six drags, he was the only one who wasn't high. That was a waste of good pot."

"Wait," Valerie's voice pulled my eyes off Sharon. "You smoke pot?"

Sharon cocked her head side-to-side as she spoke, "Pot. Cigarettes. Cigars—on a special occasion." She cracked a grin. "It takes the edge off. Plus, I hang out with Gabe… a lot. Don't believe everything you hear, sweetheart. I'm the furthest thing from a saint." Sharon's green gaze slipped to me. "Do you have any embarrassing stories about these guys?"

Trip interjected before I could verbalize a response.

"You're buying a war." He pointed at her with a playful twist to his lips.

Sharon ignored him, eagerly looking at me. Inside, I smirked. I told every story about Trip's misadventures in the kitchen—Ava keeled over with laughter at the pancake story. Trip sent me multiple glares marking me for death.

***

We ate Gabe's carbonara outside on the large table. I helped cleaning up, along with Trip and Sharon, while Ava, Valerie and Gabe picked out a movie for us to watch. We clamored in the large living room. Ava ended up sandwiched between Valerie and Trip. Shoving hands down my pockets, I heaved a breathless sigh. I walked to an armchair—far from them.

"What are we watching?" I drummed the arm of the chair. Distracting myself from Valerie's fleeting glance. And from everything below her chin.

Gabe's eyebrows drew together, and his lips stretched into a wicked smirk.

"Cabin in the Woods." Sharon's body seemed to go on lockdown near Gabriel. He looked over at her. "Just watch with your eyes closed."

"Are you high?" Valerie asked. Trip actually laughed—not at her, but with her. Yes, Valerie was smiling at Gabriel with disbelief.

Gabe tutted a finger at the Queen.

"I don't need to be high to come up with brilliant ideas."

"Let's agree to disagree." Trip cut in.

"I can't watch horror movies!" Sharon pipped up. Gabe reached out, draping an arm across her shoulders. "You're doing this on purpose." She stated. Gabe didn't deny it. "No. No. I won't sleep and I'll—I'll hear noises everywhere!"

"I packed a lot of weed."

"There is no amount of weed that'll make me feel better…"

"Don't be a downer. It's not that scary and it'll be funny. Because it's in a cabin in the woods. And we're in…"

Sharon elbowed him in the side, hard enough to leave a good bruise. Gabriel hissed.

"I know, Gabriel. I haven't burned those many brain cells."

Gabe offered her something that could only be described as a charming smile. Just like that, Sharon tossed her sandals on the floor and tucked herself into the couch cushions. The movie hadn't even kicked off. I was down for it. I loved the horror genre. I'd seen Cabin in the Woods when it came out and really appreciated it. In terms of it being scary… Well, that was relative. We stared at the massive plasma hanging above the fireplace as Valerie messed with the remote, pressing play.

According to the girls, the movie had good eye-candy—Chris Hemsworth or as I knew him, Thor. So far, Sharon was watching without problem. Then again, we were only fifteen minutes in. I wanted to keep my eyes on the larger than life screen, I did—but my eyes kept drifting to her. The girl who popped my proverbial cherry. God, that sounded so sleazy. I scrubbed a hand down my face, getting it together.

Valerie burst out laughing once Stoner Dude dared Dyed Blond to make out with a moose head, which wasn't a moose at all. It was a freaking wolf. She wasn't the only one laughing, but my ears were tweaked for her frequency.

Sharon spoke up, "I'm with that guy—can they just go back upstairs?" Gabe got kicked in the thigh for laughing. Sharon grabbed a pillow, hiding her face with it; she mumbled loud "oh God's" into her trusty pillow once screaming filled the living room and the manipulated couple were slaughtered by zombies—

"That was a freaking bear trap—what the hell?" Sharon wasn't taking it well. I felt kind of bad for chuckling.

As the movie went on, the characters kept being manipulated into playing the game. Sharon kept freaking out, Ava and Gabe cheered on Stoner Dude, Trip made smartass comments, and Valerie laughed at inappropriate times. Just like me. I was faking coughs or pretending to yawn when she busted a laugh.

Who knew she'd be into this stuff?

By the time it ended, Sharon was smoking a joint, courtesy of Gabe.

"Sharon's getting ready for the apocalypse." Trip murmured—leaning back when Sharon blew a cloud of smoke his way. "I'm done with that. Thanks."

Gabriel plucked the burning joint from Sharon's fingers, taking a long drag. He puffed out circles. We shouldn't be too surprised, the guy started smoking at twelve. My gaze shifted from them to Valerie. She was tucked against Ava and they were dozing off like a pair of old ladies. A small grin emerged; Valerie and I woke up early, so…

I stood up, stretching my arms towards the ceiling. Valerie's head lolled against the couch; her lipstick had rubbed off; her lips were parted. Trip slipped a hand under Ava's back, causing her eyes to open. After some back and forth arguing with her, he was successful in getting Ava to stand and lead her to the foyer. Ava put a hand on the wall before they left, though, turning to look at us.

"Can you get Valerie to her room?" she wasn't just looking in my general direction, she was staring at me.

I stopped my lips from shaping into a smile, making it seem like a grimace instead.

"Come on. I don't trust Gabriel to walk up those stairs while he's high." There was an indignant sound from the sofa.

She could always ask Trip. But he had his hands full with Ava and well…

"Fine. But if she kicks me down the stairs and I die, you'll have to explain it to my parents." was Ava smiling? Trip finally managed to rip her from her perch on the wall.

Hands on my hips, I glared down at Valerie. Her arms were folded against her chest and her legs curled beneath her. Great, she was out like a light. Gabe and Sharon went to sit out in the deck, still smoking. Gabe patted me on the back as he went. I bent at Sleeping Beauty's level, watching her chest go up and down. Her nose scrunched as a hair fell forward. I took a quick glance at the sliding doors—Gabe and Sharon were nowhere in sight. I brushed the hair back and watched her face lax.

"Valerie?" she barely twitched. I touched her shoulder, just lightly brushing the pads of my fingers on her skin. She shivered but didn't jolt awake. Then, I gently gripped her shoulder, giving a shake. "Valerie?" no response. This girl slept like the dead. Sighing and praying for Valerie not to wake up and start calling me a perv, I managed to slip my hands under her body, cradling her against my chest. Sore muscles complained as I straightened with her dead-weight in my arms. Getting across the living room and into the foyer was easy-peasy; I heaved halfway through the curling stairway, tired of keeping Valerie's feet from banging on the iron railing. Her head was safe, since she enjoyed pressing it against my chest.

Shit, rang out in my mind as I stared at Valerie's bedroom door. It was closed. Yuppie. My muscles were burning; it got worse once I leaned Valerie's weight onto the left side of my body as the right arm—underneath her legs—reached out. My fingers brushed the knob. I kept in a groan. I leaned us closer, practically kissing the door… Got it! I barreled inside, heading straight for the bed. I set Valerie down as gently as possible, not that she would've woken up if I tossed her like a sack of potatoes. I lifted her head to slide a pillow under it…

Her eyes were moving behind her lids, darting back and forth. Was she stuck in a bad dream? Sometimes I still had nightmares—where April was raped because I was too drunk, trying to get there, but kept falling and every time I fell, I'd be further away from my sister. Other times, I dreamed about going too far, of killing Aiden. Valerie curled into fetal position, shaking. There were no quilts to cover her with. I reached for the sandal clad feet, carefully undoing each one. After maneuvering Valerie under the sheets, I found myself standing over her as she slept. Hell, was I becoming one of those overly attached guys who stared at sleeping girls?

No, I massaged the bridge of my nose, I wasn't a creep. I walked out still wondering what the heck Valerie was dreaming about.