Page 59 of Played
Mason James has made me soft.
Mason… The look on his face when I left. What if I misread it? There’s every chance it didn’t mean all that much to him. He could have had as good a time with Dax from the club. Maybe he was being a good guy and giving me a few minutes to recover. It’s not like he explicitly asked me to stay the night, even if that was the vibe I got.
I growl my frustration, because as much as I try to convince myself this was a casual thing for Mason, I know in my gut that it wasn’t. Not for either of us.
I’ve walked eight blocks from his apartment building. It would still be quicker for me to turn around and go back than it would to get home. I should go back. But then what? Can I admit to him that I’m scared out of my mind of what we shared tonight? Admit that I’m falling for him so hard that I’m terrifiedI’m going to lose myself—that I fell in love with him when I was sixteen and haven’t stopped loving him a single second since?
I blow out a heavy breath and shake my head. No good would ever come from a conversation like that. There’s nothing I could ever truly offer him. I’m not brave enough to tell the world who I really am, and I never will be.
Glancing up at the night sky, I let the rainwater wash over me. I need to forget about Mason James. I need to move back to Chicago and cut all ties with New York. But first, I need a drink.
There’s a dive bar on this block. My favorite kind of place. Spit and sawdust and real, honest liquor. The kind of place Mason wouldn’t be caught dead in.
I step inside and shake off the excess rain. My T-shirt and jeans are soaked, and the warm air and warmer scent of aged spirits are more than welcome. Ignoring the curious glances of a few patrons at a nearby table, I head straight for the bar.
“King? What the hell are you doing in here?”
“And why do you look like you just crawled out of the Hudson?”
Shit. I spin around toward the direction of the voices and come face-to-face with Nathan and Drake. Double shit. I plaster on a smile and run a hand over my soaked head. “What are you two doing in here? I wouldn’t have thought this was your kind of place.”
Drake makes a show of glancing around, a goofy smile on his face. “Yeah, I know. Elijah told us about it. They have the best Scotch this side of Central Park.” He holds up his near-empty glass in a toast.
Nathan gives me a knowing smile and pats his younger brother on the back. “He won a huge case today.”
Drake downs his drink and indicates the empty seat at their table. “Join us.”
It would be rude not to, what with everything they’ve done for me. That’s what I tell myself, but in truth, I like these guys. I especially like that they’re related to the one man I can’t stop thinking about. Being close to them makes me feel closer to him, which is all kinds of fucked up considering how I ran out on the guy.
Nathan orders another round of exorbitantly expensive Scotch, and after the waiter has set it down, he asks me how things are going at Jamestech.
I take a swig from my glass and enjoy the burn and slight buzz it gives me. “Good,” I say.
Drake sips his Scotch. “Elijah can be a bit of a hard-ass, but he’s a teddy bear underneath. Find his leak and he’ll make sure you’re never short of work again. Guy has more business connections than LinkedIn.”
I like Elijah. Yeah, I can see why people think he’s a hard-ass, but from what I’ve seen, he’s a great CEO.
“He just expects results,” Nathan says. “I wouldn’t say that makes him a hard-ass.”
Drake snorts. “That’s because by your standards, nobody’s a hard-ass. You make drill sergeants look like kindergarten teachers.”
Nathan rolls his eyes and shakes his head, an amused expression on his face as he regards his younger brother. Then he turns his attention back to me. “It was areallybig case.”
I smile, finding an unexpected comfort in their back and forth. “Actually, I mostly report to Mason.”
“Ah, Mase.” Drake smiles. “Don’t let him fool you either.”
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table, my interest piqued. “Fool me how?”
Nathan gives his brother what appears to be a warning look, but Drake ignores it. He downs the rest of his Scotch and leansin too. “Mason likes to pretend he’s the fun uncle, but he’s not. Not really.”
Another eye roll from Nathan, and he takes Drake’s empty glass from in front of him. “I’m cutting you off and getting you a cab.”
But I’m eager for any insight into the man who’s currently the subject of my every waking and sleeping thought. “Fun uncle?”
Drake smirks and jabs a finger into his chest. “I’m the fun uncle.” Then he stares at me, grinning. In all the time I’ve known Drake, I’ve never seen him drunk before, no matter how much liquor he slammed.
I look at Nathan. “A huge case, huh?”
