Ex Games

“Holy hell, that thing is bigger than my engagement ring,” one of the women marveled before lowering her voice and huddling closer to me with her friends. “For God’s sake, Taylor, you gotta tell us how on Earth you tamed Mason Leo because Lord knows we all tried our hand at it before settling for our husbands.”

“Quinn!” one of the others gasped, smacking Quinn playfully. But then she turned to me with grave intensity. “Seriously though, what did you do? ‘Cause I’ll replicate it to a tee if it means I can get Stephen to buy me something half as fucking stunning as that.”

I laughed nervously, briefly catching Mason’s eye as he spoke with his friends. Goddamnit, he was sexy. One crooked grin in my direction and he had me genuinely giggling with the women. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I give him shit all the time and call him out for being an asshole. Maybe it’s the honesty he likes,” I joked.

“That and the fact that you look like walking sex tonight, girl,” Quinn winked, giving me that last boost of confidence before Mason whisked me off to get a drink at the bar.

“Hitting it off with the WAGs, I see,” he grinned, hand on my lower back as he asked the woman working the bar for a bourbon neat. “Not the easiest feat, so good job on that.”

I smirked. “It’s easy when they see you as the mystical fairy who finally put a lockdown on Mason Leo’s famous dick.”

Mason grinned. “For your own sake, I’m going to need you to not talk about my dick right now,” he said, leaning against the bar to gaze down at my legs wrapped in suede. “Christ,” he groaned under his breath before gathering himself and asking, “What would you like to drink?”

“I might need a second before I drink. I had a glass at home with Sofia.”

Mason laughed. “Is your tolerance really that low?”

I parted my lips to answer but across the roof, I suddenly spotted a familiar brunette in a pink bikini, a giant smile on her lips as she hoisted her wet body out of the pool. “Fucking hell,” I breathed out.

“What?” Mason turned just in time to see Whitney Decker giving a sultry toss of her wet hair behind her back. “Oh.” He returned his unfazed attention to me. “Say the word and Noah will tell her to leave.”

“No,” I tore my stare off of her. “I’d rather not give her the satisfaction of thinking I’m threatened. But now I think I do need to have a drink.”

“Good. Tequila?”

“Absolutely not,” I breathed out, ordering a Sauvignon Blanc instead. Off Mason’s unimpressed look, I said, “I have to. I stopped drinking for awhile, so I don’t have much of a tolerance anymore. Funny enough, it’s thanks to a night that has to do with Whitney.” I’d drunk myself halfway to death that awful night, certain that my relationship with Aaron was ov

er thanks to Whitney Frickin’ Decker.

I found myself wanting Mason to ask about the night, but looking up at him, I found him returning a wave from some friends across the roof. My heart sagged a bit. I genuinely hated talking about Whitney, that night or any of the thing that tended to spiral me into the bad memories but for some reason, I was itching to talk about it with Mason right now. I couldn’t explain it, and I kind of hated myself for it because it was clear as Mason guided me back to the couches that he had no interest in hearing about whatever drama happened to me two years ago. He cared enough to defend my honor from sexist assholes like Aaron’s colleagues, but he didn’t care enough to take on any of my emotional burdens and that was perfectly fucking normal. I tried to remind myself of that as we sat down with his friends.

But I found myself falling into a bit of a mood as I sat there amid the jovial conversation, and it only worsened when Whitney pranced over and squeezed her bikini-clad body in a seat across from Mason and me. She didn’t immediately say anything but I could tell from the way she peered at us that she was brainstorming, trying to conjure up some of her best insult material yet. It made my body stiffen and with his arm around me, Mason clearly felt it because despite being in the midst of sports talk with Noah, he turned and cocked his head at me. “What’s up? You alright?” he asked. Just as I tried to answer, Whitney gasped and snatched his attention – along with everyone else’s.

“Mason Leo! Fucking your little brother’s ex,” she clucked scandalously, eyeing me to soak in the discomfort I refused to show. “I have to say, very charitable of you.”

Mason gave her a blank look. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Just commending the fact that you’re using your sexual talents to boost this poor gal’s confidence. And I mean it’s working, right, Tay?” Whitney asked with a big smile. I didn’t engage in her bait, but she went on. “Fucking Mason to get over the fact that your fiancé left you for a ten?”

Jaws dropped around me but I stared barely a second before responding. “Yes, now that I’ve had Mase, it’s good to know that I almost married into a lifetime of mediocre sex.”

Dead quiet before, the crowd around us erupted into “ooh”s and raucous laughter. Slumped on the couch, drunker than ever, Noah nodded his approval and gave me a drunk thumbs up. I chewed my grin back, a chill rippling up my legs when Mason squeezed my bare knee.

“Easy, tiger.”

I looked up at him. “On what?”

“Complimenting me without warning. I’m not used to it and it’s extremely arousing.”

I laughed and took a drink of my wine. “Don’t get too excited. It’s not exactly a real compliment considering I’ve never actually had sex with you.”

“I think even you know that if you did, no one else in your history would compare,” Mason smirked. “Least of all my brother.”

Thinking about the somewhat routine sex I had with Aaron for years, I tilted my head. “You might have a point,” I said, expecting Mason to pump his fist in triumph but instead, he leaned his head back and groaned.

“Fuck, Taylor.”

“What? Feeling sexually frustrated by all this fake sex talk?” I teased quietly.