Every inch of Mason is brutally masculine. Whether it’s the way he drives with one hand, spinning the wheel with a singletouch, or the way he smokes a cigarette with one tattooed arm hanging out of his open window, or the way his muscular frame radiates heat, making me sweat and drool in my panties. I cross my legs and arms like a shield and keep up the agonizing silence.
Ten minutes in, his phone beeps. He checks his messages, barely looking at the road. Granted, it’s quiet, only one car ahead of us. Still, we could hit a pole or something.
“That’s one way to kill us.” I let out a sigh when he still doesn’t look up.
He briefly glances at the road, throwing me a look, then types a quick message and flicks the indicator, signaling the left turn, then spins the wheel.
I brace myself against the window. Not because the turn was harsh—I barely felt it—but because he’s now blasting down a narrow countryside lane. We are heading out of the center of Fort, in the opposite direction to Charlton House.
“What are you doing?” I ask, unable to hide the panic in my voice.
“Since you took up my entire evening being a brat, now I have to go put out a fire,” he says with biting frustration. “I don’t have time to drop you off.”
“Then drop me here. It’s not far. I’ll walk.”
His head snaps to me, back tomurder face.
“I’m not dropping you off in an alley like some disposable,” he barks. “Nor am I going to make it back in time to stop your midnight mischiefs. You’re coming with me.”
I just gape at him, my mouth half open.
“So, you’re kidnapping me?”
“Yes.”
“I need to go home, Mason. Jack will find out I’m gone,” I try to reason. Though Jack is the least of my problems at this moment.
“Good.” He nods. “Maybe that will make you think twice before you put yourself at risk for a fucking friend again.”
“I’m learning that lesson right now,” I spit.
“Watch it,” he warns. “Unless you are up for round two.”
His fingers brush my thigh. I shove them away, but he grabs my hand in his and places it on his lap.
“Let me go.”
“I might, if you behave.”
Argh. Why does he always have to be so infuriating?
“How long is this going to take?” I ask, guessing the answer will be disappointing.
“It takes as long as it takes,” he replies, exhaling smoke.
“Helpful, thanks,” I mutter and take Penny’s phone from my clutch one-handed, my right still locked in his grip. I type a quick message to give Thea a heads-up, telling her I’m with Caden tonight. Penny’s going to have my head. I promised her I would only separate her from her precious phone for two hours. She’s probably having a panic attack and breathing into a brown bag right now.
“Is that a common occurrence?” Mason asks. I look up to see him reading my texts, unapologetically. Of course. That’s not rude or anything. “How many nights have you spent with Powell?”
I ignore his rhetorical question since he knows the only one I spend my nights with is him, then I ask the question that’s been bothering me.
“Did you ask Hugo to befriend Caden?”
He grins like a dick, keeping his eyes on the road.
“It’s not funny,” I drawl. “I don’t like Hugo with Caden.”
“AndIdon’t like Powell with you. We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
