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A second later, Mason whipped his head off my pillow. “What the hell?” His voice was hoarse and confused as he jerked his face around until he spotted me. Eyes widening, he gasped. “Reese?”
“Morning,” I chirped and took a nonchalant sip from my cup. “So, I went out and bought us some breakfast. There are doughnuts in the front room.” When he just stared at me, I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know. ‘Reese, you’re so amazing and wonderful. Thanks for thinking of me. You shouldn’t have.’ But, really, it’s no problem. Anything for my buddy. So…de nada.”
He blinked and licked his lips, smacking them together a few times, probably to moisten a dry mouth. Glancing slowly around the room, he winced when he got to the window and morning sunlight blinded him, doing wonders to his hangover, I bet.
“This is your room.”
I opened my mouth to spout out something sarcastic and snide, but he looked like he was in pain, so I found pity and took another sip. “Yep.”
He nodded slowly and directed his bloodshot eyes my way. “What am I doing in your bed?”
I shrugged. “You said the couch was too short.”
He squinted as if he was trying to remember saying any such thing. Focusing on me again, his face paled as he asked, “So, did we…?”
This time, I couldn’t help myself. I had to torture him just a little.
Hey, don’t judge.
“Seriously, Mason.” I gasped in mock outrage. “How could you forget the magical night we shared together?” I pressed my cup to my heart as if in heartfelt pain. “It was…beautiful.”
He choked out a sound of denial. “Oh, God. We didn’t.”
“Hey!” I flipped up my middle finger, which was quite a feat since both my hands were full. “You could at least pretend as if the idea of sleeping with me doesn’t completely repulse you. Gah. I thought you were into me at least a little. I mean, what about your stupid horny guy urges and that freebie you said I could have if I just said the word?”
“I…God, Reese. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just…shit. This was not something I’d want to forget.” He gulped and ran a hand through his sexy rumpled hair, looking a little green. “Umm…was it at least good for you?”
I burst out laughing, choking on the last sip I’d taken and barely avoiding spitting it across the room. “Wow. You don’t remember anything at all, do you?”
He winced, utter devastation flushing his cheeks. “No. Nothing.”
“Well, relax, Casanova. Nothing happened.”
If anything, he looked even more disappointed. “It didn’t?”
“Nope.”
He totally didn’t seem convinced. “You’re saying I came in here, crawled into bed with you, and I didn’t come onto you at all? Why do I find that impossible to believe?”
Probably because it was. So, for this one, I had to lie. I shrugged. “You were tanked. You just stumbled into my room, burrowed in beside me, and passed out cold. Oh! And then you hogged three fourths of the mattress and all the sheets. Which is something you really need to work on, buster, because if you ever plan on getting married one day, no wife is going to appreciate that.”
His lips quirked in amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He studied me a second longer, looking as if he needed to say something else. But instead, he swallowed and scrambled upright. “Bathroom?”
I pointed. “Right there.”
“Thanks.” He was out of bed and streaking across the room in a flash, gifting me with a blurred peek of him in nothing but dark boxer briefs.
Oh, the hardships of having a sexy, tanned beefcake for a close friend.
Though I wouldn’t have minded another glimpse of him in that snug, form-fitting cotton, I left my bedroom to give him some privacy, because it was kind of strange listening to him pee through the bathroom door.
Leaving his latte on my dresser, I retreated to the living room and was going to hang around in front of the television until he emerged when I spotted his shirt and jeans crumpled in a pile on top of the blanket I’d covered him with last night. After picking them up off the floor and taking a nice, deep whiff of the
Mason smell lingering on them, I carried them back to my room. I’d just tossed them onto my bed when I heard the toilet flush. So I hurried back out again.
This time, I shut my bedroom door before I returned to the couch. I’d just folded the blanket and draped it over the back of the couch when a knock came on my front door.
For some reason, it reminded me of my mom’s phone call from the night before.
