I contemplate going downstairs to sleep on the sofa, but the idea of being alone in such a colossal space has me heading towards the en suite instead. I strip down quickly before stepping into his walk-in shower, the spray hitting me hard.
Spotting his body wash on the stand, I pop open the lid and inhale.
Hmm. That’s the stuff.
The woodsy scent expels some of my doubt. Mason wanted to take me home tonight—that must mean something.
Yes, he wants to have sex with you, Nina, not move you in.
Ignoring my own reasoning, I squeeze a generous amount of soap into my hand, lathering up my body and losing myself in all things Mason.
Reluctantly I step from the shower, struggling to see anything through the steam and condensation that’s filled the room. Wrapped in one of the super soft towels I found in the shelving, I walk back out to the room, a cloud of mist following me as I go.
Silence settles around me as I stand in the centre of the room. I can’t hear a thing, not even the girls. Looking down at myself, I wonder what I should put on.
Can I go to bed in my underwear?
I spot one of the adjoining doors slightly ajar and wonder if it’s his wardrobe. Would it be rude to go through his things? I tiptoe to the door, tentatively pushing it open, and the light flickers on automatically, making me jump.
My eyes do a quick scan of the room, relief filling me when I see a discarded white shirt on a grey padded stool in the corner of the room. I walk over, pick it up and bring it to my nose.Mase. Will his smell ever stop having this effect on me?
I slide the shirt over my head then smile down at myself. I look ridiculous. It’s huge, hanging low on my tan thighs.
Without overthinking this whole situation any more than I already have, I leave the wardrobe and get into bed, picking the side I slept in the last time I was here.
Lying on my back, I stare up at the ceiling, trying to think about anything but the fact I’m lying alone in Mason Lowell’s bed.
Mase
Fucking parents.
You’d think it would be the children calling up to ask for help, not the other way around. Scarlet couldn’t handle our father on her own, and it’s unfair to think that she could. Unfair that she feels the need to still live with him after all these years.
Since our mother died, my father has slowly been killing himself, his purpose gone with her last breath.
I rub my hands over my face harshly, the image of my dad slumped in his chair completely unresponsive, making my stomach lurch.
I need a fucking shower and my bed.
The elevator doors slide open, and the smell of liquor instantly assaults me. I lift my collar, sniffing myself, but it’s not me.
Fucking Elliot.
If he has brought Cece here, I will kill him; they’ve already caused enough problems for me tonight.
I take the stairs two at a time, desperate to shower and to at least try and get some sleep. It’s just gone three a.m. and my alarm is set for my morning workout in three hours.
The moment I step into my room, I feel her. My eyes seek out the silhouette of the woman in my bed—her soft, delicate curves covered by the thin fabric of my sheets. I swallow thickly.It’s not her.It can’t be her. Vinny wouldn’t have brought her here. He knows better.
It’s not her. I tell myself as I quietly step inside my en suite, ignoring the hope that consumes me because if anyone could erase the bullshit I’ve endured tonight, it’s her.
Nina
My body stirs as the bed dips behind me, awakening me from the most peaceful sleep I have had in months. His distinctive smell wraps around me moments before his arms do, his soft lips brushing across the exposed skin of my neck as he breathes me in.
“Angel,” he whispers.
“Mase, you’re home. What time is it?”
