The moment he steps into the hallway and silence fills the space, I am hit with a million emotions. Oh, my god, I can’t believe Mason and I just slept together. Suddenly, I’m feeling light-headed, and a powerful wave of regret tumbles over me as I begin to sit back and almost miss the edge of the bed.
But hasn’t my subconscious wanted to sleep with him for years? Haven’t I always wondered what all the fuss was about? At the same time, thoughts of the many women before me flashes in my mind and then it makes me sick.What the fuck am I doing?I can’t be another one of those women who’s okay with this. Aren’t I just playing into the belief and idea that he gets what he wants?
My brain circles back to an excuse of drinking too much like I need to be ashamed. Sadly, that’s just not the case. He and I were both coherent enough to cross this line, and I’m not sure if that realization makes things better or worse.
I pop back up again and pace aimlessly around the small hotel room with my mind flipping through the many ways our actions could play out like an out-of-order Rolodex. I wonder if he’s serious about what we agreed on?I wonder if I’m serious?
A short time later, I’m eventually able to get myself ready for bed, but now I’m lying here staring up at the outdated popcorn ceiling, trying to come down from the buzz of an orgasm that was deep and one I viciously craved.
I need to come to terms with one thing—regret or not, that sex was incredible.
Chapter Eleven
Mason
It’s only been a week and a half since the night that Bailey and I hooked up in her hotel room in Burbank. For six years, I’ve fought the urge to fuck her for a number of reasons, including the fact that she’s my best friend’s sister.
I thought just getting it out of my system would be the end of it. When I made that arrangement with her, I had no intention of following through. My goal was to finally get her out of my system. But now that I’ve been inside her and had a little taste—I need more.
Would she be upset if I just showed up at her apartment? On second thought, I should call first. I don’t want to stop by unannounced if Luca is home.
I grab my phone off the counter and scroll through to find her name. It only rings twice before a high-pitched feminine voice answers, but it’s not Bailey’s.
“Hi, Mason. It’s Bailey’s friend, Lina.”
“Hello. Why are you answering Bailey’s phone?” I hear laughing in the background.
“Well, first of all, she’smyfriend. Why areyoucalling her?”
I ignore Lina’s question and audibly exhale in annoyance, hoping she heard. “Where is she?”
Lina giggles. “Well, let’s just say that she had a good amount of wine today.”
That must mean Luca is with her parents. “Where are you guys?” I demand. I really hope she’s out with her friends and not with some guy orguys. My jaw clenches in reflex.
“We are at this cute little wine bar . . .” As Lina drags on describing to me their location, I swiftly put on my shoes, grab my keys, and race out the door.
I’m going to pick her up. Her friends can take an Uber home, but I’m taking Bailey.
I pull up to the curb and see Bailey, Lina, Piper, and Avery standing outside in the courtyard area, chatting with a couple of guys. I shouldn’t care, but that doesn’t stop my blood from boiling when I see them.
The valet comes around to my driver’s side window. “I’ll only be a minute, don’t park it,” I say, hopping out and tossing him my keys. “Don’t worry, I’ll throw you some cash,” I call out to the young kid who’s now sitting in the driver’s seat of my car.
I pass the tall vine-covered trellises that arch over the entrance to the courtyard of the wine bar. Walking straight up to the group, I shove myself between Bailey and the guy she’s talking to, who happens to be dressed like he’s going golfing.
Which he’s clearly not.
Her eyes widen the minute she sees me. “What are you doing here?”
The group’s conversation abruptly stops the minute I step in between them.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, nudging her away from everyone. I feel Lina’s eyes burn into my back. She’s wondering why I’m suddenly here, and I honestly couldn’t care less. I’m here for Bailey.
When we’re out of earshot, she turns to me but away from my outstretched arm that was firmly placed on her lower back. “What are you doing here?” she repeats.
“I came to pick you up. I called you and Lina answered your phone. She said you had a lot of wine, so I’m here to make sure you get home safely.”
Her eyebrows furrow and she chuckles. “That’s sweet and all, but I’m fine. I’m a big girl.”
