Untroubled Heart (Heart City Billionaires #3)

1. Mason

Chapter one

My throat grows dry as I heave in a lungful of air. Sweat drips down my chest and biceps as I push my body into every thrust, my glee-filled sighs echoing around me.

“Mase,” Tristan says, not an ounce of amusement as he says my name and blatantly ignores the ball I serve perfectly his way. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this … but I’m not playing with you if you continue to make those noises. Everyone always stares.”

Tristan’s eyes shift around the court as he spins his tennis racket nervously in his hands.

“But I love positive reinforcement.” I grin, wiping the sweat off my face with the hem of my T-shirt. “And if I’m not my biggest cheerleader, then who will be?”

“Literally any woman in the city, I’m sure.” He shakes his head, but the smirk on his face gives him away—he loves me.

He’s not wrong. I’ve done the third-leg work with my fair share to know it with confidence—women do love to tell me yes, yes, yes. What can I say? I’m a lover, not a fighter.

When you’re the third son of the most well-known billionaire family in the country, doors—and legs—open up for you. I’m only giving the people what they want. Handsome, rich, and available.

“Are you feeling left out? Come to The Wayside this weekend. I’ll be your wingman.” I wink.

“I definitely need a night out.” He rubs a hand down his face. “Between work and Mum, I’ve barely had a moment to unwind.”

“Is Georgia all good?” Tristan’s mum was in a car accident years ago that left her a paraplegic. He was just a teen when it happened, with no dad around, so he went to live with his cousin, Lee, while his mum moved into a care facility.

“Yeah, she’s all good. Doc says her muscles are just out of practice with all the extra independence she’s gained in the new place. But it’s a good thing. She’s so happy regaining some freedom, sore muscles included.”

Earlier in the year, his mum was approved for government-funded housing. A brand new apartment fully adapted for her needs. She even scored one of the ground-floor apartments that had direct entry into the communal gardens.

I’ll take it to my grave that my company, Two Hearts Homes, silently funded another building complex of the same nature on the promise that Tristan’s mum would receive the next available tenancy in the current building. What’s the point of being a billionaire if you can’t use your powers for good?

“That’s awesome.” I smile. “So you’re free to come out this weekend?

” I’ve grown closer to Tristan over the last few months.

We often hung out together since I did my carpentry apprenticeship with his cousin, Lee, but over the last year, Lee and both my older brothers have all found girlfriends that they’re obsessed with.

Trist and I are happily single, and with his pretty-boy looks, paired with the tattoos scattered all over his arms and legs, we get all the attention when we’re out together.

More than that, I’ve really grown to enjoy his friendship.

I feel like he came into my life exactly when and how I needed him to.

“Sure.” He nods. “Are you actually going to go home with someone this time, or are you just going to farm me around like a prized calf?”

Here’s the thing. I’m a lover. I feed off praise and connection.

But I’m also a bit impulsive. A few months back, I walked in on my brother, Gage, with his pants down and saw the monster he was working with, and the fact that it was a very fancy monster.

I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give myself a little something extra where the ladies were concerned and got my dick pierced.

Since I’ve yet to share this new version with anyone else, I’m uncertain if it was worth it.

For the moment, it just makes my dick prettier, and that fucker was already good-looking.

It hurt so fucking bad. I passed out right before the needle went through.

The piercer asked me if I was certain I wanted one, and I thought, if Gage can handle five, I can surely handle one innocent barbell through the tip.

The jury’s still out on whether I “handled it”.

I ended up picking the style my guy said was most praised for pleasure: the apadravya.

I didn’t realise dick piercings came with such a long healing time.

I kinda freaked myself out with it getting stuck inside some poor girl or getting caught and tearing my dick.

It’s working fine when I test it on myself—fuck, it feels awesome—but every time I try to flirt with a girl, my dick is limper than a cooked noodle.

Maybe I broke it? Fuck, I hope not. I love sex. And I’m good at it.

“Mate, I’m still healing. You can’t rush back into it.”

“Hasn’t it been, like, five months?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “But I gotta make sure I’m in tiptop condition for the ladies. Can’t have them spreading misinformation with their friends that Mason Heart is subpar in the bedroom.”

“Dude, they’re not Pokémon… You don’t need to collect them all.”

I point my racket at him. “Hey, they come to me to tick off their bucket lists. I’m merely in the business of making their dreams come true.”

“I still can’t believe you got your dick pierced.” Tristan shudders as if he’s imagining it. To be honest, I can’t believe it either. It really fucking hurt.

I learned early on that girls chased me for my name before my personality. It started in high school, and whilst I loved the attention, I was raised by parents who were high-school sweethearts. I had a steady girlfriend in my senior years, but I knew it wasn’t the same kind of thing my parents had.

It was okay by me. I figured it was too early to be looking for what my parents had anyway, so I concentrated on having fun.

I slipped into the role of the untroubled party boy who knew everyone and wanted to be the guy everyone knew.

They all fought for my attention. The guys wanted to call me their friend, and the girls just wanted me to call them.

As I moved into my twenties, the partying didn’t stop.

My eldest brother, Caleb, quickly made his name known in the business world, following in the footsteps of our parents and grandparents.

My other brother, Gage, was the quiet, reserved one, and my sister, Beth, was often compared to our grandmother, the one responsible for our family’s fortune, the one this city is named after.

That left me as the one with no obligations.

No responsibilities… apart from keeping my name out of any scandals.

Grams had a team on retainer the second Caleb turned eighteen to catch whispers before they even had a chance to surface.

But I’m a good boy. I know how to be discreet when it comes to stirring up trouble.

“One more game?” Tristan asks as we meet in the centre of the court, but I shake my head. It’s already after eight. I still gotta eat and shower before I go to bed, and I’ve got an early start in the morning.

“I gotta drive down to Trevally Falls first thing tomorrow and check on the progress for Caleb’s house.

” He recently bought an old house in a beach town out of the city so his girlfriend, Lex, could be closer to her brother and her family’s tavern.

I’m managing the project for him through my construction business, which I run with my sister Beth, who does all the interior design.

“Same time next week?” Tristan asks as we move to collect our bags from the sidelines, nodding to the guys on the next court over.

Emilia, one of the staff members, lingers between each court, pretending to do whatever it is she does here, when really, she’s keeping her options for entertainment open. I would know. I’ve been her entertainment a time or two before.

I kinda regret sleeping with her when I first joined here.

I’m usually really good at not hooking up with someone I’ll see on the regular.

It’s why I’ve never slept with any of the bartenders at Gage’s bar, The Wayside, or anyone who works for me.

That’s just asking for trouble in my opinion, and I’m not interested in drama. Gets in the way of fun.

“For sure.” I hold a closed fist up for Tristan to bump as we keep making our way out.

I can feel Emilia’s attention on me. The closer we get, the more my skin prickles, and not in a good way. Jesus, maybe I just need to fuck someone and get it over with. It almost feels like anxiety any time a woman gets too close these days. What’s up with that?

“Hey, Mason,” Emilia says, eye-fucking me as she leans on one hip, in an effort to look tempting, I’m sure. But it does… nothing.

“Hey, Emilia.” I give her the same one-sided smirk I give all the ladies.

“Heading home?”

Tristian snorts and starts to quicken his pace beside me. “Later.”

“Wait? No!” I hiss. “Don’t leave me.”

“Ahh, I love you, but I don’t tag team.” He grins, spinning on his heel to walk backward with a smug-as-fuck wave as he abandons me.

“Ah, come on, I’ll be gentle!” I shout.

Emilia is suddenly right in front of me, her white sports bra doing nothing to hide her peaked nipples and the way her boobs are squished together, hiking her cleavage to the heavens.

“So, when are we going to stop dancing around each other, and you just ask me out?”

I would not call what we’ve been doing ‘dancing around each other’. We fucked twice—maybe three times—more than a year ago.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t date.” I wink, then start to step around her. I wouldn’t normally brush a girl off so quickly, but I’m fucking tired. I just want to go home.

“Okay.” She chases after me, getting in my path, her bright pink fingernails walking up my chest. “Wanna fuck?”

I carefully remove her explorative fingers, pushing her hand back to her. “Got an early morning.” I click my tongue, faking a regretful grimace. “Maybe next time,” I call over my shoulder as I quicken my steps and hurry through the side exit to the car park.

The air is still warm as I make my way over to my Ferrari F80, the royal blue practically sparkling under the lights. When I’m finally at my car, I lean my hands over the roof, inhaling a deep breath.

I’ve always lived an easy life, and a damn lucky one. I have so much to be thankful for. My family, my health, endless opportunities thanks to the fortune the Heart name carries.

So tell me why, lately, life hasn’t felt easy. It’s felt… empty. I haven’t changed anything about my normal routine, apart from this unintentional bout of celibacy.

Fuck, I really just need to get laid.

That must be the problem. It’s the only thing different about the last few months—this troubling feeling of being unsettled.

I look back at the health club, Emilia’s offer repeating in my head. I almost do it. I take a step, but then I stop. Something anchors me in place.

My heart’s not in it. Not that it ever is. I’ve shared my body countless times, but no one’s ever had my heart. My wild, impulsive, and untroubled heart. Then again, has anyone ever wanted it?