That was mistake number one.
Because Mason’s gaze tightened slightly.
Not angry.
Controlled.
But sharper than before.
“You always say that,” he said.
I frowned. “Say what.”
“That nothing has context.”
That landed differently than it should’ve.
Luca glanced at me again.
Then at Mason.
Then smiled slightly like he’d stepped into a conversation he wasn’t supposed to fully understand.
“I’ll grab another drink,” he said.
And just like that—
he left.
LUCA
He didn’t push.
That was rule one.
You don’t interrupt whatever that is.
Not when it has weight.
Not when it has silence built into it.
The guy—Mason—wasn’t subtle about it.
Didn’t need to be.
The tension wasn’t loud.
It was structural.
So I stepped away.
Not because I was asked.
Because I wasn’t needed there.
And honestly—
that was interestingenough on its own.
