Free Mask - A Stepbrother Romance by Caitlin Daire Page A

convinced that anything involving me looking at his body was a good idea, but it was too late now. I’d already spoken.
    “Yeah, most of them,” he replied.
    “Can you tell me about them?”
    He eyed me suspiciously for a moment. “Rayna Silva, are you trying to get me naked?” he said in a teasing tone, before lifting his shirt and pointing to a tattoo on his chest. “Just kidding. Anyway, I got this one first. It’s the worst one I have, but I was eighteen and stupid and all of my friends were getting them. It was the only one I got out of a book.”
    “Where did the rest of them come from?” I asked.
    My own skin was a blank canvas, completely untouched by ink, and I’d never been tempted to get any, but looking at all of the artwork drawn on Jace, I could see why some people liked to have tattoos.
    “I designed them myself,” he said, as if this was the most innocuous statement on earth. I was completely blown away by that—his work was fantastic. The designs covering his chest and arms were amazing, like nothing I’d ever seen before. “This rose here, I drew for my Mom. And this little thing here, I designed when I finished my first term at uni.”
    “Wow, you’re really talented.” I shuffled closer to him to get a better look. “You should totally be an artist or something.”
    “Thanks. I do like drawing and designing the tatts, but it’s more of a hobby. On the creative front, I’ve actually always been more interested in writing. Even did an elective class on creative writing and publishing while I was still at uni.”
    I still didn’t know why he’d dropped out of college, but now didn’t seem like the right time to ask, so I asked another question instead.
    “Is that what you’re going to do, then? Become an author?”
    He stiffened at this. “No. That’s just a pipe dream. I know I’m not doing much at the moment, but I need to figure something out soon, and it has to be serious. A real job. I’m interviewing at some of my Dad’s friend’s finance companies soon. If all else fails, I’ll just work at his company.”
    “Well, that’s good, but being an author isn’t a pipe dream if you’re seriously talented, and I bet you are. I mean, look at all these books,” I said, gesturing at his shelf. “People who read a lot are usually pretty good at writing.”
    “Mm. I guess.”
    I was about to mention some good online creative writing courses I’d heard of, but Jace’s expression suggested that the subject was already closed. “Okay, so what does ‘ Be only you’ mean? Is that an inspirational quote of yours?” I added hurriedly, pointing at another one of his tattoos.
    I smiled as I spoke, trying to bring back the light atmosphere that had been surrounding us before I’d mentioned the publishing career thing.
    “It’s from my favorite book.” He said this hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure how I would react. “ World’s Over. Have you ever read it?”
    I shook my head. “Never heard of it.”
    He walked over to the bookshelf. “Would you like to borrow it? I think you’d like it.”
    “Sure.”
    He returned to the bed and handed it to me, and I took it from him, touched by the kind gesture. Books were a personal thing; at least for me, and I’d only ever lend ones I owned to people I liked and trusted. “Thanks,” I said softly.
    We fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Jace brought up what had happened earlier again. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, and I swear I’m not calling you a liar or anything, but could you tell me again what you saw in the hallway?”
    I could understand him asking this question. I sounded completely insane, claiming to have seen a ghost, but I knew the woman I’d seen in the hall hadn’t been my Mom. On top of that, the manor’s housekeeper and maids didn’t live at the manor, so none of them would’ve been sleeping here.
    “I woke up needing a drink, so I left my room to get one, but as I got out