Chapter 20
Lila
The Mist-a-Dick spurted a puff of musky fragrance, jolting me awake.
I blinked, disoriented by unfamiliar dark sheets tangled around my legs.
Mason’s bedroom. His bed. Memories from last night flickered back.
Skin on skin, breathless moans, whispered words.
It made every fantasy I’d ever had feel embarrassingly vanilla.
But where was Mason?
I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest as I scanned the rumpled bedding and scattered clothes. The mirrored ceiling caught me next, and I winced at my reflection: tangled hair, smudged makeup, full morning-after chaos.
“Real attractive, Lila,” I muttered, rubbing my face. Those mirrors had been so sexy last night; now they were just brutally honest.
My thoughts spun right back to him. Mason’s intensity.
His hands on my skin. His voice in my ear.
Incredible, no question. But daylight had a way of inviting doubt to the party.
He was so much more experienced. What if I’d disappointed him?
Maybe he’d bailed, regretting everything.
Was I just another notch on a very well-used bedpost?
Unease twisted through me as I eased out of bed, soreness blooming in muscles that remembered him in vivid detail.
My clothes were strewn across the floor like breadcrumbs. I tugged on my panties and shimmied back into my wrinkled dress. There was no sign of my bra, lost somewhere in last night’s whirlwind.
I finger-combed my hair and smoothed my hands over my dress, wishing for literally any other outfit. Doing the walk of shame in a cocktail dress was not how I had hoped to start my morning.
I was still debating the least embarrassing escape route when the bedroom door swung open. Mason strode in carrying a tray piled with food, looking unfairly sexy in low-slung sweatpants and nothing else. My mouth went dry at the sight of sculpted abs and broad shoulders.
“Mornin’,” he drawled, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Going somewhere?”
Color crept up my neck. “I, uh, didn’t know where you were,” I said, smoothing a hand over my wild hair like that would fix it.
“Thought you were gonna make a run for it?” He raised an eyebrow as he set the tray on the nightstand. “And here I was hoping for a repeat performance. Damn, I was at least hoping to catch another glimpse of you naked.” His arms slid around my waist, pulling me flush against his bare chest.
My cheeks warmed. Mason didn’t hold back what he was thinking, that was for sure. And he’d made me breakfast. That was unexpectedly sweet. Maybe I’d panicked and misread the situation. Or maybe he did this for all his conquests. I shoved that thought away and focused on the sexy man in front of me.
I aimed for teasing. “Thought you might have run out on me. I know I’m not your usual type.”
Mason pulled back a little, his blue eyes turning serious as they held mine. “Beautiful, funny, and sexy as hell? You’re exactly my type. Now get that cute ass back in bed. I slaved over a hot stove for you.”
I laughed despite myself and climbed back into the rumpled sheets. Mason set the tray between us. Fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast. It smelled amazing, and my stomach reminded me I was starving.
I grabbed a piece of toast and took a bite, scattering a few crumbs onto the sheets. “These sheets cost a fortune. We probably shouldn’t be eating in bed. They’re bound to get dirty.”
Mason’s grin went smug as he leaned closer, his eyes darkening with playful intent. “Oh, we already got them plenty dirty last night, gorgeous. A little breakfast isn’t going to hurt them.”
As we ate, I stole glances at him, admiring the hard planes of his bare chest and the way his hair stuck up in messy spikes. God, he was gorgeous. And thoughtful too.
“This is really good,” I said around a mouthful of bacon. “Thanks for making it.”
“You’re welcome. I wish I didn’t have to leave so early,” Mason said between bites of scrambled egg. “But Coach will have my ass if I’m late to practice.”
I gave a small nod, tamping down a flicker of disappointment. “I understand.”
When we finished the last bites, Mason’s expression shifted, more serious now. “Listen, Lila, I want to be upfront with you. Preseason’s kicking into high gear, and my schedule’s about to get crazy.”
My stomach dipped, but I forced a smile. Here it comes, the I’m-too-busy-for-anything-real speech. “Of course. I get it. You’ve got important hockey... things to do.”
He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hockey things, eh? Look at you, picking up the lingo already.” The touch sent a shiver down my spine. “But what I’m trying to say is, even with practices, road trips, and PR stuff, I want to make time for you. For us.”
My brain scrambled for the catch, the fine print, the hidden clause. “Oh. Really?”
“Really,” he said, blue eyes steady on mine. “I know it won’t be easy, but I think you’re worth it. If you’re willing to put up with my insane schedule, that is.”
Warmth spread through my chest, bumping up against the little voice that insisted I wasn’t enough for someone like him. The ghost of old humiliation still had claws in me, keeping me careful. “I... I’d like that,” I managed, hoping my voice didn’t give away how much his words hit.
The drive back to my apartment was surprisingly comfortable. We talked about nothing and everything while his hand rested on my knee like it belonged there.
When we pulled up to my building, I found myself reluctant to step out of the cozy bubble of his car. “Thanks for the ride. And breakfast,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. “And for... everything.”
Mason’s knuckles brushed my cheek. “It was my pleasure.” The gravelly depth of his voice carried a clear double meaning.
Warmth rushed to my face as I reached for the door handle.
Mason caught my hand before I could open the door. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’ll call you later?”
Then he kissed me, slow and lingering, the kind that made my head go light.
I got out with a ridiculous grin and watched him drive off with one last wave.
When I stepped into my apartment, I was greeted by the familiar sight of Rayna’s abandoned coffee mug on the counter. My roommate and college bestie spent most of her time with her boyfriend, which meant I basically lived alone.
I sighed and kicked off my heels. I’d probably need a new roommate soon, assuming she made the official leap to full-time shacking up.
The second I sank onto the couch, last night slammed back into focus. Mason’s car. His kiss. The flash of cameras. My laptop waited on the coffee table like a dare.
The fear that had been simmering all morning finally boiled over. Our little paparazzi moment could already be online. All it would take was one person recognizing me.
Curiosity and worry teamed up. I had to know.
I typed Mason’s name into the search bar, pulse kicking hard. The page loaded, and I scrolled, eyes skimming fast for any hint of us.
My stomach dropped.
There it was, staring back at me. A photo of Mason and me from last night, his arm around my waist as we exited the restaurant. I looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Not exactly my most flattering angle. Mason looked unfairly sexy.
“Shit,” I muttered, clicking the gossip site.
The headline screamed: Mason Callahan: Fusion’s New Hockey Sensation Heating Up Miami—Have you seen the billboards?
My palms were sweaty, my breath coming in short gasps. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous.
Relief hit first as I scanned the article. They hadn’t named me. Then the anxiety slid right back in. If I’d been seen with Mason, it was only a matter of time before someone connected dots, before my past got dragged into the sunlight.
I scrolled to the comments, dread settling heavy as I read.
HockeyMama1992: Who’s the Barbie doll? She looks way too high-maintenance for our Mase.
PuckBunny88: Ew, she’s nothing special. He can do better.
HockeyDude69: She looks familiar. Is she an actress or something?
FusionFanatic: Probably just another puck bunny. She’s hot, but she won’t last a month.
GoalieGirl: Who cares who she is? He finally smiled! That’s all that matters.
IceQueenForever: Ugh, another puck bunny trying to sink her claws into him. When will these guys learn?
HockeyDude69: Damn, he’s only in Miami a few weeks and he’s already found a hot piece of ass.
IceIceBaby: She does look familiar…
The shrill ring of my phone yanked me out of my spiral. I glanced at the screen. Mom flashed insistently. I considered letting it go to voicemail, but experience told me that would only make things worse. With a resigned breath, I accepted the call.
“Delilah Mae! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how to use a phone.” Her honeyed Southern drawl didn’t quite hide the reproach.
“Hello, Mother,” I greeted, aiming for cheerful. “Sorry, I’ve been busy with work.”
“Too busy to call your own mother? I raised you better than that.” She tsked. “I hope you’re not too busy to discuss your brother’s wedding.“
I sank deeper into the cushions, already exhausted. “Mom, it’s October. The wedding isn’t until June.”
“Exactly! We need to start planning now. I was thinking we should start looking at dresses for you. Something elegant, but not too showy. We don’t want to upstage the bride.”
I gritted my teeth, swallowing a sigh. “Mom, the wedding is months away. We have plenty of time.”
“Nonsense, Delilah Mae. Time flies, and we want to make sure you look your best. Now, have you given any thought to who you’ll be bringing as your date?”
There it was, the real reason for her call. I could practically hear the disapproval clinging to every word. “Mom, I don’t need a date. I’ll be fine going alone.”
Her voice was as sweet as her favorite mint julep, and just as dangerous. “Delilah, you know how people talk. If you show up alone, they’ll think no one wants to be with you. You don’t want to give them any more reason to gossip, do you?”