He choked out a sound of denial. “Oh, God. We didn’t.”
“Hey!” I flipped up my middle finger, which was quite a feat since both my hands were full. “You could at least pretend as if the idea of sleeping with me doesn’t completely repulse you. Gah. I thought you were into me at least a little. I mean, what about your stupid horny guy urges and that freebie you said I could have if I just said the word?”
“I…God, Reese. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just…shit. This was not something I’d want to forget.” He gulped and ran a hand through his sexy rumpled hair, looking a little green. “Umm…was it at least good for you?”
I burst out laughing, choking on the last sip I’d taken and barely avoiding spitting it across the room. “Wow. You don’t remember anything at all, do you?”
He winced, utter devastation flushing his cheeks. “No. Nothing.”
“Well, relax, Casanova. Nothing happened.”
If anything, he looked even more disappointed. “It didn’t?”
“Nope.”
He totally didn’t seem convinced. “You’re saying I came in here, crawled into bed with you, and I didn’t come onto you at all? Why do I find that impossible to believe?”
Probably because it was. So, for this one, I had to lie. I shrugged. “You were tanked. You just stumbled into my room, burrowed in beside me, and passed out cold. Oh! And then you hogged three fourths of the mattress and all the sheets. Which is something you really need to work on, buster, because if you ever plan on getting married one day, no wife is going to appreciate that.”
His lips quirked in amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He studied me a second longer, looking as if he needed to say something else. But instead, he swallowed and scrambled upright. “Bathroom?”
I pointed. “Right there.”
“Thanks.” He was out of bed and streaking across the room in a flash, gifting me with a blurred peek of him in nothing but dark boxer briefs.
Oh, the hardships of having a sexy, tanned beefcake for a close friend.
Though I wouldn’t have minded another glimpse of him in that snug, form-fitting cotton, I left my bedroom to give him some privacy, because it was kind of strange listening to him pee through the bathroom door.
Leaving his latte on my dresser, I retreated to the living room and was going to hang around in front of the television until he emerged when I spotted his shirt and jeans crumpled in a pile on top of the blanket I’d covered him with last night. After picking them up off the floor and taking a nice, deep whiff of the Mason smell lingering on them, I carried them back to my room. I’d just tossed them onto my bed when I heard the toilet flush. So I hurried back out again.
This time, I shut my bedroom door before I returned to the couch. I’d just folded the blanket and draped it over the back of the couch when a knock came on my front door.
For some reason, it reminded me of my mom’s phone call from the night before.
What if it was Jeremy? What if he’d already found me?
Shit, had I remembered to lock the door after I’d gotten back from my latte run? I’d been so preoccupied and eager to see if Mason was still here, I’d totally forgotten about the added threat of danger.
The door handle turned, telling me I most definitely had not locked it.
I freaked and glanced around frantically for a weapon. Oh, God, if Jeremy found Mason here, he’d kill him.
Spotting my espresso I’d set on the coffee table, I snatched it up, ready to throw the hot, scalding brew in my psycho stalker ex-boyfriend’s face. But Eva began to jabber as soon as she barged her way inside.
“Reese! We need to talk. Like right now.”
I gaped at my cousin, alarmed by how close I’d come to burning her.
How could I have forgotten to lock my door?
She took in my frozen expression and sent me a funny look. “What?”
“I thought you were…I forgot to…”
Before I could spit out a comprehendible sentence, my bedroom door opened, and Mason emerged, still in the process of pulling his shirt on over his head. “I stole some of your ibuprofen,” he said as poked his head through the collar.
When he spotted both Eva and me ogling him, he stopped short. His gaze froze on my cousin before he turned to me with a slight, apologetic wince.
I cleared my throat. “Umm…that’s fine. I’m sure your hangover is”—I darted a quick glance toward Eva, who was narrowing her eyes threateningly—“killing you.”
He opened his mouth and looked like he wanted to say something important, but what came out was, “Do you know where my shoes are?”
I shook my head and sputtered my way into action. “Y-your shoes? Umm…yeah. I took them off of you after you passed out and left them by the foot of the couch.”
Setting my latte back down, I knelt onto my hands and knees to search underneath the furniture.