CHAPTER 4 The Game We Shouldn’t Be Playing #3
Twenty-two minutes.
“You cheated.”
He looked at his phone.
“How?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Time moves differently around elite athletes.”
I laughed.
“We should go.”
“Probably.”
Neither of us moved.
Mason looked toward the window.
Then back at me.
“Come to Portland.”
My heartbeat jumped.
“What?”
“Saturday.”
“For what?”
“My game.”
I stared.
“You want me to come watch you play?”
“Yes.”
“Noah would lose his mind.”
“Your brother doesn’t need to know.”
That should have ended it.
Instead, I asked, “Why?”
Mason’s expression became serious.
“Because I want you there.”
Simple.
Dangerous.
I looked down.
“No.”
“Okay.”
The immediate acceptance surprised me.
“No argument?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you said no.”
I stared at him.
That shouldn’t have been attractive.
It was.
I hated everything.
We left the café together.
Outside, the city was cold but clear.
Traffic moved along wet streets.
The arena lights glowed several blocks away.
I stopped beside my car.
Mason stood in front of me.
“This was a bad idea,” I said.
“Probably.”
“We shouldn’t do it again.”
“Probably not.”
“You’re agreeing too easily.”
“I’m trying something new.”
I smiled.
He smiled too.
Then neither of us moved.
The silence changed.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
My heartbeat accelerated.
Not again.
“Mason.”
“Yes?”
“We’re in public.”
“I noticed.”
“You’re staring.”
“So are you.”
I was.
Damn him.
He stepped closer.
Not touching.
Close enough to make the possibility obvious.
My pulse thundered.
“Tell me this is a bad idea,” he said.
“It is.”
“Tell me to leave.”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
Mason’s gaze softened.
“Emma.”
This was the moment.
No storm.
No darkness.
No excuses.
I could step away.
I could get into my car.
I could stop everything before it actually began.
Instead, I lifted my chin.
Mason understood.
His hand moved slowly to my waist.
Warm.
Careful.
He gave me one last chance.
I didn’t take it.
Then Mason Cole kissed me.
For half a second, it was gentle.
Almost cautious.
Then I grabbed the front of his coat.
And caution disappeared.
His other hand came to my jaw.
The kiss deepened.
Heat shot through me.
Every unfinished moment from the lodge crashed together at once.
The almost-kiss.
His hand around mine.
His jacket around my shoulders.
Four days of pretending I hadn’t thought about him.
All of it disappeared beneath the pressure of his mouth.
Mason backed me gently against the car.
My breath caught.
He stopped instantly.
“Okay?”
I looked at him.
Gray eyes.
Ragged breathing.
Control stretched painfully thin.
“Yes.”
That was all he needed.
He kissed me again.
Slower this time.
Worse.
Much worse.
Because the first kiss was hunger.
The second was intention.
His thumb brushed along my cheek.
My fingers moved into his hair.
Mason made a low sound against my mouth that nearly destroyed every rational thought I had left.
Then headlights swept across us.
We separated.
Fast.
A car passed.
Reality returned.
I stared at Mason.
His lips were slightly swollen.
Probably mine were too.
“This,” I whispered, “is a disaster.”
He was breathing hard.
“Yes.”
“Noah is going to kill us.”
“Probably me first.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“No.”
His hand remained at my waist.
Neither of us seemed willing to remove it.
“We can’t do this.”
Mason looked at me.
For the first time, there was no teasing anywhere in his expression.
“Can’t or shouldn’t?”
I swallowed.
“Both.”
He nodded.
But he didn’t step away.
I didn’t either.
Finally, Mason released me.
The cold immediately filled the space between us.
“Drive safe.”
I stared.
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
I didn’t know.
That was the problem.
He stepped backward.
“Goodnight, Emma.”
“Mason.”
He stopped.
I should say goodbye.
Instead, I asked, “What time is your game Saturday?”
His expression changed.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
“Seven.”
I nodded.
“I’m not saying I’m coming.”
“I know.”
“I probably won’t.”
“Of course.”
I opened my car door.
Mason smiled.
That arrogant smile was back.
I pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’m thinking several things.”
That line.
From the lodge.
My stomach flipped.
I got into the car before I did something worse.
As I drove away, I looked into the mirror.
Mason was still standing beneath the streetlight.
Watching me leave.
My phone buzzed at the next red light.
I knew who it was before looking.
**Still hate me?**
I stared at the message.
Then typed:
**More than ever.**
Three dots appeared.
**Good. Saturday at seven.**
I smiled.
Then another message appeared.
**And Emma?**
I waited.
**Next time, I’m not stopping after two kisses.**
Heat spread through me.
I locked my phone.
I should not go to Portland.
I knew that.
Noah would consider it betrayal.
Mason and I had enough complications without adding secret road trips and stolen kisses.
There were a thousand reasons to stop.
Unfortunately, I had just discovered one very powerful reason not to.
Kissing Mason Cole felt nothing like a mistake.
It felt like something I had been waiting for without knowing it.
And that was much more dangerous.