The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

The fact that I wanted to punch something every time someone asked me that probably meant, no, I wasn’t over the breakup.

But I was over Sonya. I hadn’t cried or even been devastated when she’d left, which spooked me the most and had me thinking maybe she’d been right; I had no humanity, no passion. I’d been willing to marry her; shouldn’t I have felt something at her departure? Had I always been this broken inside?

I didn’t want her to be right, I didn’t want to face the fact that I was a human robot. I didn’t want to think about her or my goddamn, hopeless soul at all, so my anger immediately shot through the roof the moment anyone even dared to mention the entire dreaded subject.

Growling, “I’m just fine, thank you very much,” I jerked my arm free from Teagan and sniffed moodily. “I went on a date just a few weeks ago, in fact. So—”

“Really? Wow, it must not have been a very remarkable date then, because I never heard about it.”

That only made me scowl harder. “Well maybe you’re not privy to everything that happens in my life.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. As close as our families are, I doubt there’s anything we don’t know about each other.”

Wrong. I hadn’t known how awesome her tits could feel against my chest until tonight or how tight, and warm, and smooth her ass would be in my hands.

But thinking of that brought up the whole mistaken identity thing and the fact that I’d only gotten to learn those things because I’d been too drunk to crawl into my own damn tent.

“Why don’t you go bother Luke already,” I mumbled. He was the one she wanted anyway. Not me. No one wanted a heartless robot like me.

“Wow,” she murmured in quiet rebuke. “Okay, then. Fine. You’re in a crap mood. I get that. And I take full responsibility for it, since I’m the one who woke you in the first place from your drunken coma and riled the beast. So I’ll just leave you alone now to stew in your own pity party. Hope you don’t choke on all that misery you’re gulping.”

She moved to the tent opening and unzipped it, provoking me further. “I’m sure I’ll find Luke in your blue tent since you stole his. I mean, wasn’t that just so sweet and considerate of him not to wake you and kick you out of his sleeping bag? Just like Luke, always rolling with change, adjusting accordingly without complaint or—”

“Good night, T.”

I didn’t mean to interrupt her so harshly, but she’d succeeded in nailing me with a direct hit, because Luke was the funny, charming, easygoing one. He’d ended up with all the vivacity and spirit I lacked. He was a fucking paragon of passion. And apparently he was the one she wanted.

“Yeah,” she murmured awkwardly as i

f she were beginning to realize she’d gone too far. “Night, J.” The brief impression of fingers fluttered over my sleeping bag, barely grazing my knee as she added, “Sorry I woke you,” although I knew she really meant she was sorry for upsetting me.

Fucking Teagan. She’d always been such a feisty fighter, giving just as hard as she got. But the moment she realized she’d actually hurt someone, she turned into a freaking marshmallow. She could beat herself up for her mistakes like no one I knew. It hurt more to watch her go into self-blame mode than whatever she’d done to hurt me in the first place, which was one reason why I’d always ended up forcing Luke to let her play with us, after all, when we were kids. Life was better when Teagan was sassy and happy.

So my first instinct was to stop her and fix this, coax her back into being the only girl who had no qualms about calling me a dumbass, and the only girl who probably never actually meant it.

But that broken, hopeless part of me that had taken control lately kept me mute. And so, I let her go. She zipped the tent closed behind her with a finality that caused a lump to form in my throat.

Her absence immediately consumed the space around me with a heaviness that told me there was no way I’d be falling back to sleep any time soon. I’d spend the rest of the night wondering what was happening over in my blue tent.

Oh, God.

I recalled her tumbling on top of me, her breasts bouncing against my chest, her ass slipping into my hands, her scent in my nose. The sorrow and compassion in her tone when she’d tried to get me to open up. The way every molecule in my body had focused on her every moment we’d been together.

Damn, what was wrong with me? She was Teagan.

And I’d just sent her to my brother.

With a groan, I flopped back down onto my—er, Luke’s—sleeping bag, cursing when my sunburn scraped against abrasive cloth. My head pounded from the hangover I had, and my mouth was still dry as fuck.

This sucked.

I wanted Teagan back, even if it was for her to merely sit next to me, calling me a dumbass, because that’s exactly how I was behaving.

Moodily, I slapped out my hand toward the spot where she’d been sitting only a moment ago, trying to dispel her memory…or maybe I was trying to capture any leftover warmth she might’ve left behind. I don’t know. My head was in such a fucked-up place. Maybe if Sonya hadn’t screwed me over so bad and made me believe I was a lost cause, I wouldn’t be having these thoughts about a girl who was supposed to be like a sister to me. I wouldn’t be wanting her like—

My fingers encountered something foreign, something full of silk, and lace, and feminine slink. I cursed fluidly. These were definitely not Luke’s underwear.

But seriously, how in God’s name had Teagan not realized she’d left her panties behind? Seemed like something a person would notice missing.