Page 76 of Butterfly

The night before came rushing back to me, and I groaned. Why had I drunk so much, and why had I told Lucy everything?

Because you need a friend.

“I’m never drinking again,” I muttered.

Mason laughed behind me. His voice was raspy-warm with sleep. “Everyone says that when they’re hungover. They never actually stick with it.”

“Did we…”

He snorted.

“Fuck? No. You puked on me three times. Kind of a mood killer.”

But he didn’t deny he might have been in the mood otherwise, even though I was drunk and my decision-makingskills were impaired. Of course he didn’t care; the first time we’d had sex, he’d drugged me, after all.

Still. He’d taken care of me through the night, and I didn’t know a lot of guys who would take care of a woman and still hold her in the morning after she’d puked all over them multiple times.

“My hero,” I said.

He kissed the back of my neck, sending shivers along my spine. “I hope so.”

He got out of bed, walking around to my side. I admired his bare ass, tight and muscular, as he bent over and pulled on a pair of sweat shorts.

As he went to the door, I asked, “Where are you going?”

“To get you more coconut water. You’re probably dehydrated and need the electrolytes.”

“Why not Gatorade?”

He shuddered. “Because it tastes disgusting.”

“Wait, does…does Emory know I’m here?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why? Do you want to see him?”

Wait, was he…?

“Oh my god, you’re jealous,” I cried.

He shook his head. “There’s no reason to be jealous. Guys are only jealous when they think there’s a possibility they could lose their girl to another guy. I know I’m not going to lose you to him. That said, you don’t get to be excited to see him. Remember: it was a one time thing.”

“I’m not excited to see him, idiot. I’m embarrassed.”

“Oh.” He visibly relaxed. “There’s no reason to be. He knows better than to mention anything about it; if he makes you uncomfortable, I’ll cut off his balls. If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable, butterfly, I’ll make them regret it. And before you get all pacifist on me, that’s not up for negotiation. I’ll always tell you the truth, but you have to?—”

“—Accept you. I know,” I said.

His words warmed me. I never thought that Mason could be sweet—I’d only ever seen him as my evil tormentor. So it meant a lot that he cared so much about my feelings.

“What if it’s a woman?”

He shrugged. “Like Emily? I’ll think of something.”

At Emily’s name, I felt something in me go tight and painful.

“Why would you offer to hurt a woman you liked?” I asked.

He stared at me for a bit, like he was trying to figure something out. Then he smiled.

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