I’m not stupid. I know she’s only saying this because she’s caught up in the moment. Still, I let myself believe it, because right now, that’s all I’ve got. I need this, and I need to believe that no matter what comes next, at least some part of her will always belong to me.
I’ve never needed anyone like this before, and maybe we won’t last forever, but tonight, and in this moment, Hollis is mine, and that’s all that fucking matters.
31
Hollis
“I had fun tonight.” I say, walking through my apartment door with Fletcher close behind, so close I can feel my self-control already waning.
He can’t stay. I know it, and he knows it, too. Okay, so technically he could. The problem is, even if we claimed he would onlysleepover, it would most definitely turn into more. There’s not a pillow fort big or strong enough to keep us on opposite sides of the bed.
My only solace is that we already got to have a little fun fooling around in my office. It’s honestly a miracle I’m walking normally after that one, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be impossible to not blush the next time I sit down at my desk. After he’d told me about his fantasy of railing me against it, I figured he’d been a good enough boy, and I let him.
“I did too.” He slinks toward me. A lazy grin tugs at his mouth as he pulls me against him and rests his head on top of mine. “But I always have a good time whenever we’re together,” he murmurs into my hair.
I tilt my chin and gaze up at him. “Are you absolutely sure you can’t stay?” I pout, surprising even myself with the open invitation.
“You know I can’t. Tomorrow is a game day,” he sighs, leaning in until his forehead is pressed against mine. “And since when did you become the bad influence in this relationship?”
“I'm not sure. I’m thinking you and your usual terrible decision-making must be rubbing off on me.”
“Maybe.” He reaches between us and grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips as he presses a soft kiss to the inner curve of my wrist.
And this right here is the problem. The man is relentless and constantly does adorable shit like this. How am I supposed to want to stay as nothing more than ‘just friends’ when he’s constantly giving me every reason to finally want more.
The way he has me falling, you’d assume I was starved for love, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure, the majority of the guys I’ve come across have been complete duds, but there were a few decent men I’ve dated, or at least gone on dates with.
The problem is, I grew up with parents whose love story would put a Hallmark movie to shame. They made it way too easy to compare what I had with my exes to them, making it extremely obvious that none of them were ‘the one.’
Mason though? He’s flipped my world so far upside down that I’m starting to wonder if perhaps this is my first chance at something real, and if so, am I throwing it away?
“I really should get going soon,” he sighs, sliding his fingers through mine.
Ugh, how is this supposed to make me want to let him go, especially as he softly drags his thumb over my skin.
“Really?” I tilt my head in mock innocence as my free hand slides down his chest. “You could always just stay over. I promise I’ll be good.”
He chuckles, and it’s clear he’s not buying a word of it, and rightly so.
“I will. I’d be such a good girl,” I say, my voice growing husky as I flutter my eyelashes up at him.
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” he smirks. “But we both know what would happen. There’s not a chance in hell that if I stayed the night I wouldn’t be savouring every moment as I explored that gorgeous body of yours.”
I scoff. “What’s left to explore? I’m pretty sure you’ve seen, touched, and tasted every part of me already.”
“And it’s still not enough. With you, Holls, I’m always going to need more.”
A fire builds low in my stomach, and I’ve never wanted someone to stay more than I do in this moment.
“Please, Mason. Stay. For me?” I push out my bottom lip as my fingers curl around his shirt and tug him closer, praying the use of his first name will perhaps get me somewhere.
It’s working. I can see his resolve waning, and it’s obvious he wants me just as badly as I want him.
I’ve got him, or at least I assumed so, until he forces distance between us as he takes a large step back.
“I can’t,” he declares firmly, his voice sharp as a strange tension fills the space between us.
“Why?” My brows furrow, confused by the sudden shift. “I mean, I get it. You have your game tomorrow and you need to be well rested, but is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?”
