Like he felt me watching, his head snapped toward the media section.
Direct eye contact immediately.
God, that was annoying.
Most people looked away first.
Mason never did.
He jogged toward the bench while one of the trainers handed him water.
Then he smirked at me.
Actually smirked.
From across the fucking court.
I flipped him off instinctively.
Wrong choice.
Jace, sitting nearby stretching his ankle, saw the entire thing and nearly fell over laughing.
“Mason!” he yelled across the gym. “Your girlfriend’s here!”
“Oh my god,” I muttered.
Mason took a long drink of water without breaking eye contact with me once.
Then:
“Thought she hated me.”
“DO hate you,” I shouted back.
Jace looked delighted. “Tension’s crazy though.”
The coach blew his whistle violently.
“Less flirting, more defense!”
Heat climbed up my neck instantly.
“I would rather die.”
Mason grinned.
Actually grinned.
Then practice resumed before I could throw something at his head.
Daniel finally looked up from his laptop beside me. “You knowantagonizing him isn’t technically journalism.”
“He started it.”
“You flipped him off across an NCAA court.”
“He was being annoying with his face.”
