Page 96 of The Night We Met

“Why are you whispering?”

I lightly shove him towards the front desk, “Go check in!” I urge him, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

I watch until Mason gets to the receptionist desk and I look around the hotel in awe. I’ve never stayed somewhere asextravagant as this. Yeah, my family and I went on some memorable family vacations, and traveling for fashion shows meant staying in whatever hotels were closest to the show. But none of them were like this. Most likely because the focus of those trips wasn’t to stay holed up in the hotel for the majority of the time.

“Rendering you speechless is one of my favorite things to do. Let’s go.” Mason says when he walks back over with the key in his hand.

“Is that because it’s the only time that I’m quiet?”

“I am shocked that you would even think that I don’t like hearing your voice all of the time.” He says with a dramatic hand to his chest.

We step into the elevator and Mason presses the button for our floor.

“How about we play a game?”

“What did you have in mind Ms. Rawlins?”

Hmm. I can play this game. I sidle up in front of Mason and walk my finger up his chest and then back down. Teasing the hem of his sweatshirt and the waistband of his sweats. I hear the choked groan in his throat.

“I don’t think I have to spell it out any further. Loser pays for room service. Winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. As long as the loser okays it. Consent and all of that. Are you up for it?”

Mason clears his throat before answering. “I’m all in.”

The elevator dings before I can continue my torture. I feel like a boiling kettle of water that’s about to explode with steam. I can’t be the only one that’s feeling like this. If Mason’s kiss and his growing erection were any indication of what he’s feeling, then I have no idea who’s going to win this little game.

When the door opens and we walk over the threshold, I’m rendered speechless again. Mason has really outdonehimself. I’ve only read about the Garden House Suite in Vogue, but seeing it in person is jaw dropping. I turn to read Mason since he’s reading me. But the only thing I see in his eyes is heat.

And that heat in the pit of my stomach evolves into a full on inferno. My breathing matches that of Mason’s. Deep. Heavy. Full of longing in not just our breathing, but in our heated stares.

Slowly, I trail my hands to my cardigan and start unbuttoning it. Taking his cue from me, Mason begins to slowly unbutton his light blue button down.

It’s a draw. We both lost.

Kamryn

After a day full of catching up on sleep, eating, and sex; we’ve now started our tourist vacation. We’re walking towards Big Ben when something Mason said pops in my head. “What was it that you had to tell me?”

“Huh?”

“You said that you had something to tell me something about football.”

“Oh. That. After this season I’m retiring.” He says it so nonchalantly, like he’s talking about the weather changing and not just changing his whole life.

I think I heard him incorrectly. “Come again.”

“Wouldn’t you want that.”

“I’m serious Mason.”

“I know you are. You remember that hit I took in that last game?”

“Yeah. You just said it was nothing. That it was just a bruise. You lied to me?”

Mason pulls us off to the side. “I didn’t at the time. That’s what I was told. And that’s what it was. Until I triedlight practicing. Between throwing through that pain and the hits, I’ve been told that if I take any other sort of hit, I may lose total mobility. And I don’t want that, baby.”

“So what does that mean for football?” I’m trying my hardest not to let this news of him stepping away from football affect me.

“I finish out this season as an official player. But I won’t be playing. And they can’t buy me out with all that money they put up to get me. So I would stay and help out with the quarterbacks. It’s unorthodox, but it’s what makes sense.”

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