Page 149 of Forever Relentless

“That’s my girl.”

I followed her, and the next time I woke up, she was standing at the foot of the bed, holding my phone.

“Fuck, what time is it?” I asked, rolling over. “Is that my phone?” I sat up. “Is it Tate?”

Briar was in leggings and a T-shirt. Her glare was enough to tell me it wasn’t Tate.

I sat up in bed. “Can I have my phone?”

She threw it at me, and it just missed, bouncing off my head.

“Why the fuck is my brother texting you?” she demanded, crossing her arms and looking like she wanted to remove my head from my shoulders.

“Is he?” I don’t know why I opted for vague. There was no vague reason why Mason Sterling would be texting me.

Briar marched to where my phone had landed and scooped it off the floor.

“Get up and meet me in there.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, turned, and strode to the door. “And put some fucking clothes on.”

I lay back in bed and stared at her ceiling. It was a light blue, reminding me of the team, and despite her temper, I got a thrill knowing she went to bed and woke up with the reminder of me above her.

“That’s the start of insanity right there,” I muttered as I got up. “Talk about a thin thread.”

I put on my pants, pulled my shirt over my head, and didn’t bother buttoning it as I padded out to the living room, where she was sitting perched on the edge of the couch looking ready to spring off it at a moment’s notice.

“What’d it say?” I asked her, picking up my bottle of water from this morning.

“Why don’t you tell me what it might have said?”

I laughed. “Honey, I’m good, but I’m not that good. Is he telling me I played well yesterday?”

Her look could kill. She might kill me.

“Okay, can I have my phone so I can see?” She threw it towards the end of the couch nearest to me. “Careful, I can’t really afford a replacement.” I picked it up and opened my app.

Mason: Everything’s working as we hoped. What’s next?

Huh. Vague but still not vague enough.

“Noah?”

I looked up and saw her fury. I could lie.

“Do not even think about bullshitting me.”

Or not.

“So you see—”

“You?” She was on her feet. “You’re the one posting on social media.”

“No.” Not yet.

“Do not lie to me!”

“I’m not. I haven’t posted anything.” I hesitated. “Yet.”

Her eyes were wide. “Yet?” She looked me over. “Mason? Mason is posting?”