Page 104 of Twisted Trails
Shit.
He’s holding two water bottles, and one of his brows lifts slightly. “I was gonna ask… wait, were youstillsleeping?”
I blush, ridiculously aware of how sloppy I must look. “Yeah, come in.”
Mason steps up into the bus, ducking slightly through the door before he sets the water bottles down on the table.
“Sorry,” I say, rubbing my face. “What time is it?”
He glances at his watch. “Little after ten.”
I groan and squeeze my eyes shut for a second. “Great.”
He steps toward me with narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you sleep last night?”
Of course, he knows that without me outright saying it.
I shrug, keeping it light. “I don’t know. Just being back on the bus, I guess. There’s a lot going on.”
I don’t tell him about the panic curling around my ribswhen I try to think about racing with these busted fingers, or about how Luc, Dane, and Piper all look at me like I might break in two.
Mason’s gaze drops to my hand. “Are you hurting?”
“No,” I say quickly. “No, I’m not. At least when I stay on top of the pills, it’s just…” I hesitate, then smile weakly. “I think I got spoiled sleeping next to someone.”
His eyes flick over to Dane’s bunk. “Didn’t he sleep here?”
“He was with Piper.” I force a shrug. “Maybe he’ll be back tonight. It’s fine.”
Mason’s jaw ticks. “It’s not fine when you can’t sleep. I’m sure Luc would let you sleep with him in his hotel room.”
“He probably would.” I look down at my fingers, flexing them gently. “But honestly, I don’t want to mess with his routine. Or distract him. He’s got his own prep to focus on, and I already feel like I’m too much.”
Mason lets out a breath, half-sigh, half-huff. “Luc doesn’t think like that. Trust me. Ask him. I’m sure he’d say yes in a heartbeat. But…” He hesitates, and I glance up just as he shifts his weight, nervous in a way Mason rarely is.
“If you don’t want to ask him…” he says quietly, “…or if he says no, we could get a hotel room together. You could sleep next to me.”
I blink. “Really?”
His eyes search my face in a way he did a few times already, asking silently for permission, and again, without knowing what he’s asking, I give it with a nod.
Mason steps forward, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into his chest like he needs the hug as much as I do.
“I know I’m not Luc.” His voice is a whisper against myear. “But if you don’t want to ask anyone for help, you can asknobody. I can hold you through the night.”
I sag into him, all the tension melting for just a second as I slide my arms around his waist and bury my face in his shirt. When I breathe in his pine scent, everything doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
“I’d love that,” I whisper, then pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Another beat of silence passes before I lift a brow. “Seriously, whatareyou doing here?”
Mason lets go of me, and I instantly miss his warmth. With a glint of mischief in his eye, he says, “I came to ask if you’re in the mood to sit and watch our boy play the drama queen during pit setup.”
My answering smile comes easily. “Oh myGod, yes.”
He laughs softly, clearly pleased with himself for dragging me out of my spiral. The sound makes something loosen in my chest, but then I glance down at myself—oversized shirt, no binder, nothing even close to passable for being out in public.
Ugh.
“Give me a minute.”
