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“You need water.”
“There’s some in the mini-fridge.” I swayed on my feet a little, and Mason tsked. “What?”
“You’re a mess, blondie. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
Now that was something I could get on board with. Falling into his arms, I let him scoop me up and carry me to my bed. He lowered me down, and my breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.
“Mase—”
“I’ll get you some water.” He detangled me from his body. “You do whatever you need to do.”
I was past caring about my bedtime routine. I was crashing, and fast.
Rolling onto my side, I pulled the covers over me and snuggled down. “Do you think you can pull my sneakers off?”
“You’re sleeping like that?” He perched against the edge of the desk, watching me with a hint of amusement.
“I’m too sleepy to get undressed or take my makeup off or drink that waters.” To prove a point, a yawn crawled up my throat.
“Oh no, you don’t. If you don’t hydrate, you’ll feel ten times worse in the morning.” Mason stalked toward me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Drink.” He unscrewed the cap and passed the bottle toward me.
With a pained groan, I managed to sit up enough so that I could wrap my fingers around his wrist and let him feed me the water.
“More.” He added when I tried to tug his hand away. “It’s not enough.”
“You’re bossy.”
“And you’re a pain in my ass.”
My lips curved at that.
“What?” He frowned, placing the bottle on the nightstand.
“Nothings.”
“Harper…”
“Mason…”
I snuggled back down in the covers.
“You do know you’re not in bed, right?”
“As good as.” I smiled goofily, my eyelids fluttering closed.
“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, stalking off again. When he came back, he’d gotten a t-shirt in his hands. “Okay, blondie, help a guy out.” He started dragging the cover-burrito off me.
“No, I’m too comfy. I’m fine. I’m—”
But Mason had me half undressed before I knew what was happening. He fitted the t-shirt over my head and pulled it down my body before pulling my leggings off. His hands remained on my body, his fingertips brushing my thighs. I sucked in a sharp breath, and he startled, snatching his hand away like I’d burned him.
“Okay, if you’re all set, I’m going to—”
“Stay.” My hand shot out, grabbing him.
“Harper.” A beat passed. Tense and heavy. Then he said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Please, tonight was… really shitty. And you, Mason Steele, you make me smile.” He snorted at that, and I frowned. “What?”
