Page 40 of The Sweet Part
He pulls me under him, and I lose myself to long, languid kisses from a man who takes his time.
9
Mason
Someone’s shaking my shoulder. I’m sprawled on my stomach, my face buried in a pillow that smells like vanilla. Now someone’s pulling my shoulder. I shake them off. Five more minutes.
“Mason, wake up! We overslept, and someone’s at your door.”
I turn my head, opening one eye.May. I smile.
Last night.
Incredible.
I reach for her, but she pushes me away. “Go answer your door. I have to get home before Sophie and get ready for her party.”
Another dinging of the doorbell, followed by urgent knocking. I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Eight fifteen a.m. on a Sunday. No one I know would show up at this hour. Unless it was an emergency. Adrenaline shoots through me. I pull on jeans from yesterday and throw on a T-shirt.
May’s just about dressed. I want to say bye, but I have to deal with whoever’s out there first. Please don’t let anyone be dead.
I pull the door open to find my superfan, Evie, on my doorstep. She’s young, blond, damn persistent. You know, I suspected she’d followed me from home when she left a note on my truck at the pizzeria. Damn, I should’ve filed a restraining order. “Evie, you can’t be here.”
“You never called me. I told you it was important.”
May appears next to me, staring at Evie. “Excuse me.”
“Wait a minute,” I say to her.
Evie holds her hand out to May. “I’m Evie. Did Mason tell you about me?”
May looks to me in question.
“She’s a fan of the show. I met her one time when she showed up at Happy Endings.”
“He forgot the important part,” Evie says smugly. “We drank tequila, and then we hooked up in his truck. Mason, I’m pregnant, and you’re the father.”
I blow out a breath, annoyed. “I wasn’t drunk that night. You had tequila while I had a beer. And we didnothook up.”
“I can’t believe you don’t remember!” she cries. “How many women do you sleep with in a night?”
May puts a hand on my arm. “This seems like a private conversation. Excuse me, I need to get home.”
“May, she’s just a crazy fan,” I say. “I barely know her.”
She recoils. “Shame on you. You at least owe Evie a conversation about this.”
“Yeah!” Evie says. “Shame on you. I’m sure it’s a boy, and I’m going to name him Mason after you.”
May darts out the door.
“I’ll see you at Sophie’s party later!” I call to her rapidly retreating back.
“Don’t bother!” she yells.
I want to yell I don’t have drunken hookups with random strangers, but just then my elderly neighbor next door comes out in her bathrobe to pick up her Sunday paper. I wave to her, and she waves back.
How could May even think that about me? I treated her really well with the dinner and flowers and stuff. I made sure she had a good time last night too. Twice.
