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And sure, he still is all that. But as he’s gotten older, and started working out, and weaving things like tattoos and that sinful lip ring into an already stunning package…
Well, let’s just say if I didn’t have years of practice bottling up my attraction for him, I’d be a puddle on the fucking floor right now.
He’s gorgeous.
Painfully so.
A single glance from those baby blues is enough to steal my breath.
A mere smile, a slash through my heart with a serrated blade.
Perhaps the universe did me a favor not aligning our stars.
To be loved by Mason Wyatt would surely be a death sentence. The weight of it would crush me.
Would that really be so bad?
And therein lies the problem.
He laughs at something the man next to me says. I don’t hear what it is, but Mason’s laugh might as well be a whisper in a church. It’s all I fucking hear. Just like when we were kids, it draws my attention like a moth to a flame.
When our eyes catch, locking, his laugh fades the ever slightest bit.
I’m the first to drop my gaze.
Blinking, I pick at the uneven grains of wood under the bar top with my nails. Movement in the corner of my eye draws my attention to where Mason’s pushed back some from the bar, and he’s got his hands clasped in front of his chest.
No. Not clasped.
He’s rubbing at his middle finger…almost like he’s twisting a ring, but there’s nothing there.
“Is everything okay?” I blurt.
His furrowed gaze searches mine, and he frowns. “Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Just, uh, wondering. You’ve been kind of distant recently.”
His eyes round the slightest bit, giving him away, and he averts his gaze.
A sinking feeling floods my chest.
It’s been three weeks since what I now refer to as The Incident.
And while he’s continued to text me daily, as usual—our conversations normal, if not a little forced…
He hasn’t tried calling me once. Not even a videocall.
Which is…unusual for him. He knows I hate both, especially video-calls. I usually just let them ring and text him instead, claiming I’m busy.
It’s our thing.
He pesters.
I ignore him.
He finally manages to snag an inch, and I hold the line with all my might so he doesn’t get any more than that.
Maybe he’s finally giving up on me…
