“Like I said, I don’t like other men around you. They won’t be returning while you’re here.”
My jaw drops, nearly unhinged.He kicked them out? Does he mean - Just him and me?The thought of having him near me, freely, flutters in my stomach, making my heart play tricks on me while I try to focus. I really shouldn’t have crossed my limit of ten drinks tonight. If I hadn’t, maybe I would have noticed my involuntary relocation.
“Dan and Jack would never agree,” I state like it’s a fact. It is.
“Let me see how many fucks I have to give.” He raises an empty hand, then places it on the mattress next to him and draws a circle. “Now, come back to bed.”
I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to budge. He lets out a deep sigh.
“You know I’m right,” he drawls. “I broke into your house every night without fail, and your guards were none the wiser. Granted, being me brings a higher level of access.” He shrugs, an evil smirk painting his lips. “But I’m not taking any chances. You’re at more risk now that everyone knows you’re with me.”
“Whose fault is that?” I snap. His grin widens. And that ticks me off. “You did this on purpose. Admit it.”
“Genius, no?” he says, like a dick.
I stare at him, unamused. Nothing is ever simple with him. As soon as I start to wrap my head around his shenanigans, he throws something new at me.
When I don’t speak for a long minute, he lets out a long exhale. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have me around rather than your guards?”
I open my mouth, then seal it.Well, when he puts it that way… but I can’t let him get away with this. First the post, now this, what’s next?
“You should’ve talked to me,” I mutter, trying to keep my voice even. “Or at least told me before you packed my things and brought them over here.”
“So, you could think it over ten times and shelve it for next year?”
“If everyone were as impulsive as you, the world would end in ten days.”
“It would be exciting ten days though, right?” He smirks at me as if he’s already won and is simply enjoying my reaction.
I hold his gaze for a long moment, my thoughts tangled and restless, for more reasons than one. “I don’t like my choices being made for me, Mason. I wasn’t raised to be some caged bird.”
“So, the idea of living with me is prison to you?” His brow arcs.
My lips part, speechless, as I consider his words. The thought of having Mason all to myself tugs at my heartstrings, feeding the insecurities that have been gnawing at me. But how can I give him more of me when he refuses to give me himself completely?
Mason takes in my defeated expression, then inches toward me and grabs me by the waist, pulling me onto his lap. My hand lands on his chest. For once, I’m thankful for the sheets between me and his groin.
“I’m still mad,” I tell him.
“You’re always mad.” He smirks and tucks a loose strand behind my ear. “But you’re safer here, so here is where you will stay.”
My eyes lift to his, my teeth digging into the corner of my lip. “You expect me to live with you, when you wouldn’t even let me see you without your T-shirt?”
His eye twitches, his shoulders tighten, then he grabs the back of his T-shirt and pulls the cotton off in one swing.
I gasp, my breath clogged in my throat.
His chest is as I imagined, ripped and packed—the perfect six-pack, muscles drawn in neat lines. The tattoos on his arms trail to his ribs. The phraseMemento moriis curled on his chest,right above… a deep scar. My whole body recoils in silent tremors as one trembling finger traces that scar, then the one on his side, and a third across his stomach.
“Don’t make me regret this.” He wipes something wet under my eye. “This is why I don’t take it off. Not because of whatever else you had cooked up in your head.”
“When?” I sniff.
“I was fourteen.”
Did he say fourteen?
My gaze flicks between his face and the scars. They are not like the wounds he is usually covered in. No, these are deep, intentional, with the intent to take life. He was stabbed. And from the angles, it looks like it was done by more than one person.
