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“Just wondering if I’m going to be stuck on a too-small couch.”
“You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“I have a guest room.” Now his eyes were closed and he was resting his head against the seat. “We could stay at my place.”
My initial instinct was to shout “hell no.” But after a moment of thought, it made sense. His apartment had to be bigger than my one-bedroom. And that meant it would be easier to keep more distance between us. “I need to stop and get my stuff.”
His only response was a nod. For the next fifteen minutes, silence reigned. Which was fine by me.
Once I’d parked, I unbuckled and grabbed the door handle.
“I can wait in the car.”
I froze with the door ajar. “Yeah, no. As long as you’re my responsibility, I’m not letting you out of my sight. Even though your brain isn’t currently bleeding, the possibility that it could is why everyone is worried.”
He narrowed his eyes, but only for an instant before he winced and pain flashed across his face again.
“Okay.” He sighed, rubbing at his temple.
After putting together a small bag, I made my way back to where I’d left Mason in my living room. He was standing near an end table, holding a photo.
I stopped in my tracks when I realized it was one of me from high school. Shit. Had he put two and two together?
He looked up, and I swore there was a hint of a smile curling his lips. “You were always hot as a brunette, but I like the blond look too.”
I ran my hand through the ends of my highlighted hair. Yeah, it was a good five shades lighter than my natural color. “It took seeing an old picture to finally remember me?” I crossed my arms and sighed.
“I knew who you were before we left the office.” He smirked. “It’s ironic that you blew me off eleven years ago, but now you’re stuck with me.”
I blew him off? Was he kidding me?
I shook my head as I stared at the photo in my hands. How had I not seen her in the weeks she’d been working at Lang Field? Eighteen-year-old me had been obsessed with her. She was the smartest girl in school, and she never put up with anyone’s shit. Including mine.
By some miracle, she and I had been paired up as lab partners during my senior year. She was a grade behind me, but even then, her sinful curves were all woman. Add in a dimpled smile and long lashes that she hid behind those thick black glasses, and she was the star of all my teenage fantasies.
Near the end of the school year, I had all but begged her to come to one of my teammate’s parties. We had been flirting for months, and I thought maybe I’d get to spend my last summer before college getting to call the bombshell of a girl mine.
Boy, had I been wrong.
“You talked me into coming to the party that I wasn’t even invited to.” She crossed her arms over her chest, taking a defensive stance. “You kissed me, and then you disappeared into a bedroom with another girl.” Her jaw tightened. “In no world was that me blowing you off.”
My heart and my stomach both plummeted. Was that what she’d been thinking for all these years? That I just left her for another girl?
“You remember what happened to Ian that night, right?”
“Who?” Frowning, she tilted her head, causing her ponytail to brush over the shoulder of her blue shirt.
I was instantly captivated by the way the blond strands rested over the swell of her tits. The fabric of the Revs polo pulled taut across her chest, and the two buttons she’d done up strained enough to make them look like they’d pop open with the slightest help.
She cleared her throat, and my eyes snapped up to her face.
What were we talking about?
I blinked, willing my mind to focus on the conversation. With a deep breath in, I tore my attention away from her and scanned the room. I didn’t recognize the place. Which made sense, because I was in Aurora’s apartment. Shit. I had to get my head in the game. The fog that hovered in my mind was frustrating enough to have me clenching my jaw, which only made my head hurt worse.
Her apartment was very her. Cute but totally uncluttered. From the look of things, she liked the girlie shit—curtains and plants and stupid knickknacks that collected dust—but nothing was out of place. The full wall of bookshelves sent warmth unfurling in my chest and made me smile. Eleven years ago, my girl had always had a book in her backpack. Quite a few of my own favorites held key spots on her shelf. Not many of my friends realized I was a super reader, especially back then. It didn’t go with the shit-stirring jock image I’d cultivated. But Aurora knew me better than most people. At least she used to.
“Mason?”
