Crashed (Mason Brothers 2)

Tessa had been friendly to me. Even when I was a dick to her, she’d been friendly. Maybe I c

ould be friendly in return for once in my life. Just… nice. Like a normal person.

You’re not a normal person.

“No, but I can pretend to be one,” I said out loud, my voice a rasp in the quiet. Then I took a breath and dialed her number.

She answered, her voice flat. “Hey, Andrew.”

“Did you get any sleep?” I asked her, as if I didn’t know.

Tessa sighed. “No. The heat is so awful and they say it isn’t going to break soon. It’s hitting me today, you know? The air conditioner has been broken since I got here, and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep.”

She’d moved in what, a week ago? No wonder she was so tired. “What time is your audition?” I asked her.

“Four. Then I have an interview for a bartending job at six.”

I glanced at the clock. “It’s only eight right now.”

“I know. It’s early, but I wasn’t sleeping so I thought I might as well get up, and—”

“If you come here, you can get a few hours before you have to go to your audition.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

I closed my eyes. Nice job, fuckface. Here it comes.

Then Tessa’s voice came over the line. “Really? You’d let me do that?”

She sounded like she was about to cry. “I think lack of sleep has made you emotional, but yes. My air conditioning works fine.”

“You have a spare bedroom?”

“No. I have one bedroom, but since it’s morning I’m not using it right now. I have light-blocking shades and it’s cool. I don’t have anyone coming today so it’ll be quiet. I’ll just be working at my computer. You could probably get six, seven hours. It makes no difference to me.”

“Oh my God,” she said. “Please, please don’t change your mind. Give me ten minutes. I’ll be right there.”

“Tessa?”

She hung up.

Ten minutes later she appeared on my front door security camera, a bag over her shoulder. She was waving, tired but excited. I took another breath and pressed the code to let her in.

I heard the front door open and close, and her flip-flops coming down the short hall. Then she came into the living room. In the flesh. Wearing the bikini top, the loose shirt, the shorts. Her legs were slim and perfect. Her bobbed hair was a spiky, sweaty mess. She had no makeup on, and she’d left off the giant sunglasses. Her eyes were soft blue, her lashes dark. Her cheeks were flushed with heat and exhaustion. She was so fucking gorgeous I could hardly breathe.

We stared at each other in silence for a minute. I realized she was looking at me the same way I was looking at her—up and down, taking in every detail. Then she smiled—a real smile, one with actual happiness in it.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied.

Her gaze wandered the room. This used to be a living room once, but I’d transformed it. On one side was my sofa and chair, but on the other I’d put in my workstation, including a small bank of monitors, my drawing tablet and pen, and two keyboards. The whole thing looked high-tech, and her eyes widened a little. Then she looked back at me, sitting in my chair. I was wearing black sweatpants and a gray T-shirt and I hadn’t shaved this morning, though I had showered. I had socks on my feet. I wondered what she saw when she looked at me.

She put her bag down. “I could kiss you,” she said.

“No,” I said.

She sighed. “Can I at least thank you?”