Mason (Trinity Academy 2)

Yeah, I love your morning look as well.

“When you’re done drooling, catch the doors before they close,” he grumbles as he straightens his shirt covering the strip of golden delicious skin.

I begin to blink and feeling my face heat with embarrassment, I rush forward. I bump into the doors as they begin to close, and growling, I smack the metal, “Stupid damn doors!”

I’m almost jogging in my hurry to get away from Mason’s gorgeously smirking face, but he grabs hold of my arm and pulls me to a stop. Coming to stand in front of me, he shoves the hoodie over my head, then grumbles, “Left arm.” I shove my arm through the sleeve while shooting him a glare. “Right arm.” I roll my eyes but do it anyway.

Then he steps right into my personal space as he adjusts the hoodie over all my hair. Holding onto the sides of the fabric, he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Go get your coffee, Babe.” Not needing to be told twice, I dart around him, and almost fall face down from shock when he slaps my ass.

I let out a squeak before I give him a what-the-fuck scowl. There’s a fluttering in my stomach, and I try to ignore it as I dart out of the building.

He’s only screwing with you, Kingsley.

Not yet fully recovered from the near-drowning, it feels like I’ve run a marathon when I reach the café on campus.

The barista smiles at me, but her friendly expression freezes when I say, “Please tell me I can get alcohol with my coffee.

She keeps staring at me as if I lost my mind, which has me mumbling, “Two coffees and two caffè mochas.”

With the order in my hands, I keep glancing around to make sure I don’t run into Mason again while I rush back to the dorm. When I reach my suite without anything else happening, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Layla, coffee is here,” I call out.

She comes out of the room and sitting down on the couch, she takes one of the cups, and looking at the label, she puts it back down and reaches for the other, “Nourishment before dessert.”

I wait for her to take a sip, then say, “Please tell me you know what’s going on with Mason.”

She immediately smiles widely and wags her eyebrows at me as she keeps sipping her coffee. After a couple of seconds, she asks, “He’s friendly all of a sudden, right?”

“Yeah, it’s creeping me out.”

“He’s touching you more, right?”

“He slapped my freaking ass this morning,” I call out, not even sure how to process it.

“Oooh,” she leans forward, “Did you like it?”

“Huh?” I begin to shake my head but then stop, because, with the shock set aside, it did make something flutter inside of me. “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

She leans back, and grinning, she mumbles, “Didn’t take him for an ass man.”

Pinching the fabric of his hoodie between my thumb and forefinger, I pull it away from my chest. “I’m wearing his hoodie. The guy dressed me in the lobby.”

Layla keeps drinking the damn beverage, her eyes filled with laughter.

“You’re not helping,” I grumble as I reach for my own coffee.

I take a huge sip of the warm liquid, hoping it will clear my mind, and then Layla asks, “Is it so hard to believe Mason likes you?”

I tilt my head as I stare at her, and after a while, I begin to nod. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“For starters, I’m not his type.”

She lifts an eyebrow at me.

“We bicker,” I state, “Like… all the time.”

Her smile widens, and she gestures with her hand for me to go on.

“What more do you want? He picks on me every chance he gets. He’s always growling. Damn, even the sex was angry.”

Layla sets her empty cup down and reaches for the caffè mocha. “You still need to tell me about the epic sex you had.” Sitting back again, she asks, “When last did the two of you bicker?”

I think about the question, and when I can’t remember, I shrug.

“Okay, let's be serious,” Layla says, and she begins to tick off on her fingers, “You and Mason used to take digs at each other, then you had sex, then you were awkward, then you almost died.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” I agree.

A serious look tightens Layla’s features. “Kingsley, Mason watched you almost die. I think the shock made him realize he cares about you. He never left your side while we were waiting for you to wake up.”

I let her words sink in before I admit, “The thought never even crossed my mind. I was just worried I might’ve triggered his past trauma again.” Then I frown, “But I’m not his type.”

“Stop saying that,” she scolds me. “You’re freaking badass, and Mason will be lucky if he ever gets to date you.”