The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

Okay, I remembered coming to her apartment last night to check on her after Patricia’s threatening text and Reese letting me inside. Then I think we drank…gin. Yes, gin. And then we ate popcorn as we watched a movie, maybe. Or maybe not. After that…nothing.

I remembered absolutely nothing else.

Oh, God. What was I not remembering? How had I gotten in her bed? What had I done in her bed?

Holding my breath, I dared to ask, “So, did we…?”

Her mouth fell open as if outraged. “Seriously, Mason,” she accused. “How could you forget the magical night we shared together?” She held her cup up to her heart as if clutching the wounded organ. “It was…beautiful.”

Wait. What?

We hadn’t really…?

No. We couldn’t have. We couldn’t do that and I not remember a single moment of it. Karma wouldn’t be that cruel. Except… Yes, yes, it really would.

“Oh, God. We didn’t,” I uttered, devastated that I could remember nothing of our first time together.

“Hey!” Scowling, she flipped me the bird. “You could at least pretend as if the idea of sleeping with me doesn’t completely repulse you. Gah. I thought you were into me at least a little. I mean, what about your stupid horny guy urges and that freebie you said I could have if I just said the word?”

Horror flooded me. “I… God, Reese. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just…shit. This was not something I’d want to forget.” Swallowing unsteadily, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling sick. I couldn’t believe we’d actually been together and I didn’t even remember it. Why couldn’t I forget every other woman I’d ever been with and remember only Reese? This was no fucking fair.

“Umm… Was it at least good for you?” I tried, flashing her a guilty, wincing kind of smile.

In answer, she threw back her head and laughed, coughing a little when she choked on her drink. “Wow. Oh my God, wow. You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“No,” I admitted glumly. “Nothing.”

“Well, relax, Casanova,” she reassured me. “Nothing happened.”

But…what? “It didn’t?” So I’d spent the entire night in her bed and nothing happened? Well, that sucked too.

She shook her head. “Nope.”

My brow furrowed because that didn’t make any sense either. “You’re saying I came in here, crawled into bed with you, and I didn’t come onto you at all? Why do I find that impossible to believe?”

She merely shrugged. “You were tanked. You just stumbled into my room, burrowed in beside me, and passed out cold. Oh! And then you hogged three-fourths of the mattress and all the sheets. Which is something you really need to work on, buster, because if you ever plan on getting married one day, no wife is going to appreciate that.”

Leave it to Reese to turn everything into a funny. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said on a small smile. I watched her standing there, holding two drinks, and I wanted to tell her I wished we had done something together and that I could remember every detail. But that pro

bably wasn’t something I should admit.

My bladder chose that moment to wake up, though, and I decided I should probably get up out of her bed because it smelled too much like her.

“Bathroom?” I asked, feeling awkward about having more questions than answers. Like why the hell I’d drank in the first place.

She pointed. “Right there.”

“Thanks.” I popped up and streaked across the room, surprised to learn I wore nothing but a pair of jockey shorts.

Why had I stripped down to my underwear?

I had a feeling Reese wasn’t telling me quite everything that had happened last night.

I remembered rushing over to check on her after getting that worrisome text from Patricia. But Reese seemed fine this morning, not like any of her dark secrets had been exposed to the world. So why had I stayed?

Probably because I could never resist any chance I got to remain in Reese’s company. It didn’t seem to matter what my intentions were to protect her; I had absolutely no willpower where she was concerned. I had a bad feeling it was probably going to be both our downfalls.

I took my time in the bathroom, washing my face and cupping water in my hands to get a drink. Then I stole some of her ibuprofen and opened the door to find my clothes in a pile on her bed. Then I returned to the bathroom and hastily jerked them on. Except it sucked in there with no space to dress. After banging my knee against the sink and my elbow on a towel rack, I exited to put my shirt on in the bedroom, only to hear Reese talking in the front room. Assuming she was on the phone and worried her call might have something to do with Patricia’s threats, I rushed from her bedroom, still tugging on my shirt, only to find she wasn’t on the phone. She had company.