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“I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.”
“Because they don’t see what I see.”
“And what do you see, Harper Dixon?”
“I see… things.”
“Things?” His mouth quirked as he reached for me, pushing the flyaway hairs from my face. His fingers lingered on my cheek, slipping down to my chin. “You should get some sleep.”
“Don’t make me beg, please.”
“Will you tell me what happened between you and your old man?”
“He’s your coach,” I said, the words sobering me a little. “It’s a conflict of interest.”
Mason stood, pulling off his t-shirt.
“W-what are you doing?”
“If we’re doing this, we might as well do it properly.” He tugged the covers off my body and wriggled them down underneath me. His hand slipped to the belt on his jeans.
“Wait,” I said, panic spreading through me like wildfire. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Again.
“Don’t worry. I can keep my hands to myself. Besides, I don’t fuck drunk chicks,” he said gruffly, kicking off his jeans. “Scooch over.”
It was a tight squeeze, given my bed was only a single, but Mason felt good pressed up behind me.
“Are you spooning me?” I chuckled, wiggling my butt right in his crotch.
“There’s something very wrong with this picture.”
“You love it,” I teased, feeling a second burst of energy now that he was here.
Now that he was staying.
“For fuck’s sake, blondie. Stop doing that.” He let out a throaty groan that did all kinds of things to my already turbulent insides. “Okay, enough.” His hand went around my waist, slipping under my t-shirt. He splayed his fingers across my skin, and I instantly settled into him.
“Now sleep.”
“That feels nice.” I purred like a damn house cat.
After my father’s blatant rejection in front of Mason and the rookies, I’d felt so embarrassed and hurt that I should have left the bar. But my stubborn streak wouldn’t let me. So I’d stayed. I’d pasted on a smile and gone in search of validation in the form of cherry sours and faceless guys.
Stupid, yes.
Necessary, also, yes.
“You’re supposed to be going to sleep.” Mason huffed.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re grumpy?”
“All the damn time.” His warm breath fanned my shoulder. It felt good. Too good. Sending a lick of heat through me to places that definitely didn’t need waking up right about now.
“Sleep,” he ordered.
I got comfortable, stretching and shifting until I was cocooned in Mason’s warmth. My eyes shuttered as I yawned again. “My father isn’t who you think he is,” I murmured. “He’s nothing but a big phony.”
