Chapter Nineteen #2
I thought about the way Jason was staring at me.
The bar was dimly lit and he was across the room.
I was hoping (probably for naught) the way he was looking at me was nothing more than him noticing a woman in a tight black dress.
I, on the other hand, could pick that asshole out of a crowded room without issue.
But that’s what happens when you look at a picture of the man you’re obsessed with nearly every day for two decades.
I doubted Jason ever gave me or my sister a passing thought.
“I’d like to say no. But, maybe.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
We wouldn’t, but I would.
One way or another, this ended here. It had to.
“Talk soon.”
Before she could give me any more horrible advice like mounting Mason like a donkey, I hung up.
Just because I was already in the frying pan, I figured I’d continue my stupidity and jump straight into the fire. Instead of going downstairs after my long hot shower, where I’d found more beard burn between my legs, I opted for our balcony.
This time, I was out there first on my lounger, with nothing but silence and my thoughts.
The skyline and lights did nothing for me. I’d much prefer a view of the mountains or ocean. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. First back to Mexico, after Catarina caught me running from Ahmad’s people after I’d escaped. I had to admit that was a close call . . .
Carlos Quintero, may his soul be rotting in hell, had taken the bait and me.
Tom needed a connection between Ahmad and the cartel in Juárez.
Unfortunately, after I’d put the word out that a blonde-haired, blue-eyed virgin was roaming the streets alone in Juárez, Carlos had gone rogue and taken me on a joyride across Mexico to sell me directly to Ahmad, cutting out the cartel.
That had been a bust, but in true Tom fashion, he’d spun it to higher-ups and still got approval to take out Ahmad. I’d been hoping Carlos would reach out to Jason Anderson and I’d be taken to Berlin. But not every op goes according to plan.
Pace.
Primary, alternate, contingency, and emergency.
I’d moved to the contingency part. Tom jumped the gun and went to emergency and sent in Pete and his team to rescue me.
At the time, I’d been furious. Now, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to be angry Tom had unintentionally brought Mason into my life.
Same with Atlanta. Maybe that’s why I was slowly forgiving her for going behind my back.
At this point, I was nursing my grudge on principle.
If she hadn’t texted him, I wouldn’t’ve had this—our balcony and stolen moments with a man who made me feel alive, human, like a woman .
. . and not the one I’d turned into under Tom’s tutelage.
“With that frown, I’m not sure if I’m waking you up from a nightmare or interrupting you plotting murder.”
Both.
My eyes popped open to find Mason sitting on his lounger, elbows resting on his black sweatpants-covered knees.
Too bad they weren’t gray, then the Instagram-inspired fantasy would be complete. Was he commando under those sweatpants? Did I want to find out? Hell yes, I did. Jeez, I’d gone from not thinking about sex to being a horny virgin.
Gah. I hated that word. Actually, I was beginning to hate both of them.
“Calli?” he prompted.
“Sorry I didn’t go downstairs,” I mumbled, not offering an explanation that would likely lead to questions I didn’t want to answer.
“It’s late, and it was a long day for them. Nothing more than hellos were exchanged before they took off to find a bed.”
With me having my own room, the guys would have to double up. Unless they were going to sleep on the mini couches in the living room. I didn’t know what Gavin and Aiden looked like, but there was no way Fallon, Jack, Mason, or Pete would fit on any of the sofas.
“I don’t know if I ever apologized for threatening to shoot you back in Mexico,” I blurted out.
Mason chuckled good-naturedly. “If memory serves, your magazine was empty.”
It had been, and at the time, he’d pointed it out.
“I was just pissed Tom sent a team to rescue me.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I have an irrational aversion to feeling beholden to someone. My father and Tom had this relationship where each of them felt obligated to the other. Neither of them actually respected or cared about the other. It was a circle of debt. My father provided intel to Tom. Tom kept my family safe. My father saved Tom’s life.
Tom offered more protection. The circle was never ending—or it should’ve ended when my father died, but instead I stupidly jumped on the merry-go-round. ”
I should’ve found a way to take out Jason without Tom’s involvement. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, and at the time, I’d been blinded by grief and anger.
Hard green eyes held me captive when he asked, “Is that what you feel, Calista? Indebted to me and my team?”
Instead of telling him what I knew he wanted to hear, I searched my feelings. Did I feel indebted to Mason? Was that why I was so drawn to him? Because he’d shown up for me, twice now, to have my back when no one else did?
That couldn’t be it. I didn’t feel the same connection to Pete, and he was there.
“No,” I finally answered. “I feel grateful but not beholden. I feel linked to you but not obligated.”
I saw the tension bleed from his features, but more than that, I saw relief sweep over him.
“It’s late, Calli. You should get some sleep.”
It was well after midnight, and I was exhausted, but I wasn’t ready to go back to my room and climb into an empty bed, ending Calli and Mase time.
“Where are you sleeping tonight?”
“Out here. Gavin took my bed.”
It was a warm evening. Sleeping on the lounger wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but still, I didn’t want him spending the night out on the balcony.
“We can share my bed,” I offered.
Mason’s smile was quick, but it morphed into a smirk just as fast.
“Not sure either of us would get much sleep if we shared your bed.”
One could hope that was the case.
I shrugged, uncaring my robe gapped open at the movement.
At this point he’d seen my breasts, sucked and licked and left his mark of ownership.
My thighs clenched at the memory. I dared not look, but I wondered if the beard burn was visible.
I hoped so. I wanted to see it again in the morning when I got dressed.
Mason’s groan cut through my thoughts.
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Mason stood and offered his hand.
I stared at his calloused palm that had touched nearly every inch of me.
Maybe not every inch, but all the important ones.
But it wasn’t the memories of what he could do with those long, thick, magical fingers that had me captivated.
Something about this moment felt different, life altering, and not in a give-up-my-V-card kind of way.
As if by taking Mason’s hand, he’d change the course of my entire future.
“Calli?” he called. “If you’ve changed—”
Before the moment slipped away, I reached up and grabbed Mason’s hand.
When his fingers curled tightly around my hand, I knew I’d made the right decision.