“Does this mean I’m finally off your shit list?” I tease, needing to lighten the mood before my heart reads deeper into his words and creates something I know isn’t really there.
He turns back to the TV, scrolling through shows and movies. “Oh, sweet Sophie. You’ve never been on my shit list. Not even for a second.” My cheeks heat, and when he glances at me, then winks, I’m quite sure my heart stops beating altogether.
The next day as I sprawl out on the couch with a book and wait for my food delivery, Mason plops down by my feet and places them in his lap. I immediately smell his body wash and glance over and see his hair is still wet. Stifling a groan, I force my eyes away from the view and back to the pages.
“Malice?” he inquires, reaching over and tilting the hardcover to get a better look at the cover. “That’s a good one. Second one was slow, though.”
“You’ve read it?” I ask, surprised as hell as I place the book flat against my chest. “Wait. You read?”
He quirks a brow. “Don’t sound so surprised, geez. I read it when it first came out.”
“I’m not surprised. I just didn’t know you were into adult fantasy books.”
He shrugs, reaching for the remote. “Used to be. Didn’t finish the series.”
“What?” I gasp. “It only gets better!”
Mason furrows his brows at me. “You’ve read the entire series already? Why are you reading book one then?”
“You’ve never re-read a book or series before?” I ask defensively.
Mason shrugs. “Not really. I had to read a lot in college, and it didn’t leave much time for leisure reading.”
“I bet you’d like Pierce Brown. I binged his Red Rising series. So damn good.” I release a dreamy sigh. “Plus, he’s hot too.”
Mason glares at me. “Yeah, now I really want to read it and think about his hotness.”
I roll my eyes. “No one said you had to think about how he looks, though why wouldn’t you want to? Beyond intelligent, sexy, plus he’s funny! I stalk, er, follow him on Twitter.”
Grabbing for my phone, I click on the app and look up his handle. Before I can say another word, Mason scoops it out of my fingers. “Hey!”
“Let me see this guy. I bet he’s an old fart.”
I laugh at his tone. “Nope. Early thirties.”
“He looks like any other guy with dark hair and a beard.” Mason hands my phone back.
“To you, maybe.” I chuckle, wondering if I detect a hint of jealousy in his voice. “Anyway, his books are amazing so you should read them solely because of that fact.”
“I’ll get right on it,” he deadpans.
“I have his books in hardcover if you want to borrow them. I just ask that you treat them nicely. They’re all signed.”
Mason leans back with a groan, but I see the smile he tries to hide. “Of course, they are.”
We spend the day like this, bantering about anything and everything. We started watching Lucifer on Netflix yesterday, and we’re already on season two. I half-listen as I continue reading my book, and we actively not talk about the elephant in the room as my feet remain in his lap. It’s the only way I can keep my emotions down about the reality of our situation. Mason’s charges might’ve been dropped, but it’s the aftermath of it all that I’m most concerned about. The promotion he’s supposed to get in the fall, his relationship with his father, and our friendship are all still up in the air, but when it’s just the two of us hanging out, it’s easy to pretend at least for a little while that everything’s fine.
By Thursday morning, Lennon and Maddie are on the doorstep demanding I give them more than two-word text responses. They’ve been messaging me nonstop, but I haven’t been in the mood for conversation, considering what they’re going to force me to talk about.
“You can’t deny your niece. Let us in,” Lennon demands, holding Allie on her hip.
“You can’t use her as bait.” I chuckle, reaching out to grab her. She’s six months now, and her little personality is starting to really show. “Come here, baby girl. You’re welcome anytime.” I smile and hold her against my chest.
“Are the boys here?” Maddie asks, which has me rolling my eyes.
“Just Mason.”
We retreat to the living room where I was folding laundry since I’m living out of my suitcases. They look at the mess and help me pile it on the coffee table so they can take a seat on the couch.
“How’s it going?” Lennon asks.
“Good. Just trying to organize my shit.” I grab my books one-handed and set them in a pile.
“Soph.” Lennon’s tone has me turning to look at her. “How is it really going? You okay? You haven’t been too responsive to my texts.”