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“Shh, go to sleep,” Mason said, sliding his hand up my stomach, the tips of his fingers brushing precariously close to the underside of my boobs. A violent shiver ran down my spine, and I pressed my lips together, trapping a small whimper.
It felt good.
He felt good.
But he wasn’t here for that.
“Mase?” I asked after a couple of tense seconds.
“Yeah?”
“You really hurt me, you know.” It came out half-whisper, half-yawn. “I know I’m not supposed to tell you, but that’s not who I am. I wear my heart on my sleeve and believe in being upfront and honest with someone. And you hurt me. You—”
“Harper?”
“Yeah, Mase?”
“Go to sleep.”
My heart sank. Even now, in the darkness of the shadows, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit there was something between us. Not that it changed anything; it didn’t.
He’d had his shot, and he’d blown it.
We lay there in thick, stifling silence. Even though my body craved sleep, I couldn’t drift off. Not with Mason so close, his fingers a featherlight caress over my skin.
In the harsh light of day, I knew I would regret this moment of vulnerability. But I was only human. Being constantly rejected by my father, being treated like his dirty little secret was one thing, but having him here, in my space, and experiencing it was a different kind of torture.
Mason let out a heavy sigh. “You’re not going to sleep, are you?”
“What happened to your dad?” I blurted, sober enough that I was aware I was treading on thin ice with him.
“He walked out not long after Scottie got his official autism diagnosis.”
“Do you both still see him?”
“Scottie does now and again. Me, not so much.”
“I’m sorry.” I slid my hands over his, loving how he felt wrapped around me. Even if I knew it was a temporary lapse in judgment on both our parts.
“It is what it is. Scottie has Mom and me. I’ll never let that kid down.”
“No, you won’t.”
“What about you and your dad? What aren’t you telling me?”
Nothing. Everything.
I let out a weary sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“The two of you aren’t close?”
“That’s… the understatement of the century.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Fuck, Harper, I…”
