Page 24 of Without Judgment

CHAPTER NINE

Avery

Lying in my bed, I heard Mason take the phone call and speak in low tones with my father while I tried to calm my heartbeat. I wondered what would’ve happened if the call hadn’t interrupted us. Would Mason have kissed me? He’d been turned on—that was clear from the size of his impressive erection. But didn’t that happen to guys when they woke up? Maybe it hadn’t been because of me.

When I’d heard him having his nightmare earlier, I’d gone to my brother’s room next door to find something to throw at him. I’d come up with the idea of the squirt gun once my eyes landed on the childhood toy. Little did I know my prank would turn sexual in a heartbeat.

The real question was if I’d have let him kiss me. I’d had a really good time with him at the restaurant. No talk of scandals, bad friends, ex-boyfriends, or my father. Instead, we’d simply been two people gorging themselves on good burgers and sharing funny tidbits. It had almost felt like a date. Except for the whole he-had-no-choice-but-to-be-with-me-for-the-day-and-was-being-paid thing.

Yes. I definitely would’ve let him kiss me. In addition to having enjoyed our meal together, I was now reliving the hardness of his body pressed into mine. After sliding my hand down my flat stomach and under the waistband of my panties, I zeroed in on my clit. I circled my fingers around and felt a bit of a zing, but nothing like having him cradled between my thighs. Damn. I moved my fingers lower. Nope, not working. It seemed I couldn’t even manage that tonight.

Just one more thing I couldn’t do on my own. That seemed to be a common theme.

***

The next day, I decided to stay home. I managed a quick morning workout, cardio only since my arms, neck, and shoulders still felt sore from my personal session with Mason. Speaking of which, I noticed he appeared to be avoiding me. Fine. A word I used a lot respecting him.

When the gate intercom buzzed that afternoon, I quickly ran to the front door from the kitchen where I’d been eating lunch alone.

Unfortunately, Mason was faster. By the time I got there, he’d already signed for the package and closed the door. He was holding a square box. Terrific. It was the books I’d ordered from Amazon.

“I’ll take that.” I reached out for the box.

He glanced up at me, frowning. He looked as handsome as usual though today he was wearing black jeans and a matching T-shirt. “Not before I open it.”

My eyes widened. “Pardon?”

“I need to scan all packages you receive.”

Nope. He was not going to open my box containing the self-help books I’d ordered. “It’s from Amazon. I ordered a few days ago and have been expecting this package.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What’s in the box you don’t wish for me to see, princess?”

I tried a new tactic. “Feminine products.” I was hoping mention of such a thing would have him handing over the box. It would’ve worked on my older brother for sure. He would’ve dropped it like a hot potato.

But nope, not Mason. He simply quirked a brow and took a knife from his ankle strap. Jesus, why was that so hot? Maybe because he was incredibly capable in swiping it across the taped crease. So capable that it wasn’t until he opened the flaps I remembered oh, yeah. Embarrassing books I hadn’t wanted anyone to know about.

“What the hell are these?”

“Books. Give them.”

Too late. He’d already glanced down at the two books on top with the titles, Unfuck Yourself: Get Out of Your Head and into Your Life and my personal favorite, Girl, Wash Your Face: Stop Believing the Lies About Who You Are so You Can Become Who You Were Meant To Be.

“You bought a face-washing book?”

I snatched the package out of his hands. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is. Three hundred pages on how to properly scrub your face. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

***

I didn’t see Mason again until dinner. I’d been reading my Unfuck myself book in my room while he seemed content to ignore me. I wasn’t sure if he’d make fun of my self-help books or not, but at this point, I didn’t care. If they gave me any advice or could get me out of this funk, then they were totally worth it.

It seemed silly he was ignoring me and, worse, that I cared. But I was an extrovert, which meant it was hard for me not to talk to people. When I went down to the kitchen, Mason appeared absorbed once again in his laptop. He was scowling and appeared frustrated. Good to know the frown was a permanent feature of his and not something I alone inspired.

“Still working on your website?” I opened the refrigerator.

“Yep.” He didn’t even glance up.

I took out some cooked rotisserie chicken along with some veggies my father’s chef had prepared for dinner and put it on a plate to microwave. “Have you eaten?”

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