Chapter 13

Leah

Well, I’m forever ruined. Not only was that the best sex of my life, but I seriously couldn’t walk afterwards. Leave it to Mason to deliver exactly what he promises. Four days later and I’m still hobbling a little.

“I squirted all over his face. Like a sprinkler, Mak.”

“Girl!”

“I’m ruined for all other men. Damn him and his big dick and stupidly big tongue.”

“How big are we talking?”

“ Big , Mak. Wait, his tongue or his D?”

“Both! I want all the details.”

“Both are impressive in size and talent. But his tongue work is diabolical. Okay, his dick game is too.”

Good grief, what have I become? Ever since I left Mason’s house four days ago, my grey matter has obsessed over every detail of that night. How perfect. How fun. How unexpectedly simple and decadent.

How it’ll never happen again because once was enough to make me question things.

I’ve been dying to talk to my bestie about it, but this is the first time we’ve been able to catch up after days of playing phone tag. “I don’t know what to do, Mak.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Fuck him again.”

“Understandable.”

“I also want to run for the hills.”

“No one said this was a commitment. He doesn’t even live here for most of the year. He’ll have to go home eventually, right?”

“Yeah.” I don’t know if I’m depressed or relieved about it, which is one of my many issues here. “What if he has a wife, Mak?”

“I’m sure if he did, you’d have seen that on the internet already.”

True. It’s not like I didn’t go on another deep dive down the Mason Finch rabbit hole when I got home the other day. Or every day since.

“I like him,” I confess. “He’s fun and sweet and sexy as hell.” I lost track of how many times I’ve watched that video of him eating me out. And each time I get to the end, where he sucks his finger clean and winks at the camera, I swoon.

It’s so embarrassing.

What’s even worse is that I have no clue why he let me keep that video. He must know I could use it as blackmail. Someone like him caught making a porno would likely destroy his reputation, right?

He trusted me with it, though. Without saying a word, he took a risk and let me keep that footage.

Why?

Shit, even my employer sometimes makes us sign NDAs. Mason, however, seems to have thrown caution to the wind with me. It’s reckless of him to do that. He’s not stupid. He made that video on purpose.

Was he giving me proof that he trusts me?

Is this his way of showing me he doesn’t care about his reputation, even though I’m trying my best to protect it for him? Does he even know that’s why I’ve drawn a line in the sand between us?

Christ, my overthinking is overthinking at this point.

“What if he’s your penguin, Leah?”

Doubtful. “He’s just a fun fuck, Mak. Don’t make it anything more than that.”

Her silence makes me antsy.

“Look…” she finally says, “why not see where it goes? It’ll be a fun ride, whether it’s short or long. You deserve to have some fun with a guy who will treat you right. Sounds like Mason wants to do that.”

“I’m too busy for a relationship.”

“Make time then,” she claps back.

Between my job and my side hustle, I’ve barely had time for my best friend over the last few months. Dedicating any free time I have to this man sounds… okay, fine, it sounds amazing.

Wow, I’m a headfuck and a half today.

“I need coffee so I can overthink this more.” Hands balled into fists, I speedwalk down the sidewalk. “This is a triple espresso day, Mak truck. Maybe a quadruple.”

“Whatever it takes.”

We change the subject and bullshit about other things until it’s time for her to get to work. Once we hang up, I’m faced with the fact that I’m alone and I don’t like it. That’s new. I’m usually content chilling by myself. I work alone, eat alone, sleep alone… but today a hollowness spreads in my chest.

It feels suspiciously Mason-shaped.

Eew. What the hell is wrong with me? Do I actually miss him?

With a big fat cup of ambition warming my hands, I stare out the cafe window, questioning my life choices. I’m so close to starting my own business, I don’t have time for distractions. Or a relationship.

Or a reason to second-guess what I want to do.

But the thought of Mason calling anyone else Princess makes me want to murder someone.

This isn’t love I feel clenching my heart. It’s not infatuation either.

It’s something else that my heart wants to run from.

What the hell is the matter with me? How could I let this guy get under my skin so easily? It’s ridiculous.

Is it because he calls me Princess? No.

Is it because he gave me way too many orgasms that I had no idea I was capable of having in one night? No.

Is it because he’s stupid rich and can afford to give me anything I ask for? Hell to the no. I can buy myself whatever the fuck I want or need.

I only know how he makes me feel. Safe, adventurous, proud, adored.

Real talk: You know what did me in the other night? It wasn’t the sex—though that nearly sent me into my next life—it was afterwards. Mason spent the rest of the night bathing me, feeding me, brushing my hair, rubbing my feet, and cuddling. Time stopped that night. We talked for hours about our favorite foods, movies, music. I told him a little about my family, he shared stories about his. The conversation was easy. Effortless. We talked, laughed, and touched until we fell asleep as the sun rose. It was so natural and perfect.

Too perfect.

I woke up the next morning, and was so out of it, I didn’t know what planet I was on. Mason was in the shower, and I straight up panicked. All I kept thinking was, I don’t belong here .

So, I bolted and haven’t spoken to him since.

X hasn’t requested a private chat with me either.

I don’t know what I was expecting to happen after that night. It’s not like I thought he’d chase after me or anything.

“Leah.”

I glance up from my stupor and blink a few times before my brain functions properly.

Mason sinks into the chair across from me. Decked out in another black three-piece suit, he shoots me a sly smile that, looking more weary than mischievous, plays on his lips. “Double espresso?”

My tightening throat makes it hard to say, “Triple today.”

He whistles. “Sounds serious.”

The joke lands flat because we’re both staring at each other with mixed emotions. I want to hide under a rock, and he looks like someone kicked his puppy.

Brows furrowed, Mason leans forward with his hands clasped. “Leah, if I—”

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. That was immature and uncalled for.” The last thing I want is for Mason to feel like he did anything wrong when he did everything right. “I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Is this where you say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me, Mason, and I wish we could be more, but my life is a mess right now and I don’t think going into a relationship is something I can handle at this point in my life’?”

All I can do is blink at him.

“I get it,” he says, tapping his finger on the table. “We kind of fell into each other a little too perfectly the other night.”

I blink some more.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t beg, Leah. I’m not about to get on my knees and plead for you to let me into your life. Nor am I the kind of man who walks away from something I really want.” He looks out the window for a second and draws in a long breath, then exhales it slowly. “I’m leaving for California and won’t be back for a few days.”

My heart sinks to the floor.

“If you want to see me again, Princess, say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

What’s that even mean?

“If I don’t hear from you…” He regards me with steel eyes that don’t hide rejection well. “You’re incredible, Leah, and I’m happy to have had the privilege of spending a little time with you.” He gets up and knocks the table gently with his knuckles. “Have a beautiful day, Princess.”

I watch him leave, my flabbers gasted. When I snag my drink to chug it, my gaze falls on a business card he’s left on the table.

My hands shake when I pick it up.

I have no idea how he found me here. I have no clue why I’m holding this piece of cardstock like it’s the holy grail either. What I do know is that when I flip it over and see his message on the back, my heart expands painfully in my chest.

Take a risk with me .

Tears fill my eyes, which is preposterous. It was just a one-night stand. This isn’t real. We’re from completely different worlds. We’re—

I bolt from my chair and out the door. “Mason!” I yell, expecting to him stop.

But he’s already gone.