“Welcome, boys, welcome!”

A woman with a frizzy mane of brown hair leaned in and gave me a huge hug and a kiss on either cheek. She was wearing so much jewelry she looked like a disco ball and makeup as thick as an oil painting.

“Kade, this is my Aunt Marie,” Mason said, “Auntie Marie, this is Kade, my boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Marie cried out, “Masey has a boyfriend!” At least three other people looked over to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself as Marie hugged me again, tighter. We had just arrived at the big family Christmas bash, held at Aunt Marie’s minimansion.

“Mason told me that your house was amazing, but I wasn’t expecting this,” I said, looking around. The ceilings were high and vaulted, and there was a chandelier in the entryway that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “He tells me there are tennis courts out back?”

“Oh, yes,” Marie said. “We’re very lucky to have this home. Tennis courts, a guest house, big lawns. But who cares about the house? Welcome to the party! Oh, I’m so happy Masey has a man of his own! I bet you two have fun together,” she said with a wink.

“Oh my God, Auntie,” Mason said, blushing as always.

“Make yourselves at home. The party is just getting started. We’ve got great caterers this year. Four different kinds of sausage!”

“Wow,” I said, trying to hold back a laugh.

Mason gave her a hug before we headed further inside. The house was like nothing I’d ever seen, and already packed to the brim with people despite us being on time. Mason had told me that eighty people came every year, but it looked like there were already that many people here, if not more. The place was decked out on every surface with Christmas decor: red ribbons, garland, lights, and candles.

I could see immediately why this type of party made Mason nervous every year.

“You doing ok so far?” I asked him, sliding my hand to the small of his back. Every time I touched him in public, I had to remind myself that it was okay, that I was supposed to be doing these things, that we wanted his family to think that we were dating.

He nodded, looking up at me. “I’m gonna try my best,” he said. “Use some things you’ve taught me.”

“Perfect,” I said.

It was almost strange seeing him like this again, after how confident he’d been last night. It was like he’d come alive after he woke up, like being in bed with me had unleashed something inside him that he couldn’t control.

I had shamelessly loved every minute of it. I tried my best to think of Mason as nothing but a client, but I knew myself. I wasn’t the sort of person who could be kissed by a gorgeous man in bed and tell him to stop.

I had wanted it all; I would have slid Mason’s pants down and fucked him right there in that bed if the timing had been right.

But I wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted. I wasn’t sure if he really had just been kissing me as a form of comfort, as a simple palliative for the anxiety he’d woken up with. They sure seemed to work that way, after all, and he slept like a baby for the rest of the night.

If that’s all that Mason needed from me, I could happily provide it. It was okay because it wasn’t a real attachment. Wasn’t a real commitment.

The kisses were no different from a massage or… a really good hug.

At least that’s what I tried to tell myself when Mason’s eyes sparkled up at me and I could see the hint of a smile on his lips, and all I wanted to do was lean down and kiss him.

We wound our way through the house, various family members greeting Mason. He introduced me elegantly and methodically, without a hitch. If I hadn’t known Mason was nervous, I never would have been able to tell, and by the time we made it to the expansive kitchen, he was smiling wide.

“Oh my God, I actually remembered everyone’s name,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad you do because the second you told me them, I forgot,” I said. “I’m good with names, but I’m not thirty new people at once good.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “The night before we left town, I was up late studying them. I used Facebook, a genealogy website, old photo albums, my mother’s emails… anything I could find to make me actually remember who my third cousin twice-removed is.”

“Mason, I’m going to have to stop you there because I just noticed that there is a tray full of smoked salmon tarts over there,” I said, beelining for the golden platter on the kitchen island.

When I turned around after stuffing my face with one, Mason was scrunching up his nose.

“What?” I asked after swallowing. “You have to try these. Holy shit, that is delicious.”

“Fish,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, incredible smoked salmon,” I said, handing him one. “Here.”

“Get that away,” he said, pushing my hand back. “I don’t eat fish.”

“What do you mean, you don’t eat fish? You don’t eat any fish?”

“Vile,” he said. “Never had a bite of it in my life. Fish and pears.” He pointed toward a tray of fruit, which included sliced pear.

“Wait. Are you actually kidding me? You’ve never taken a bite of fish? You’re about to.”

“It smells weird, and it can’t possibly taste good, and just… no,” Mason said.

“One bite,” I said, holding the tart in front of him. “You have such excellent cooking skills. I know you’ll appreciate this.”

He eyed me warily, then took the minitart in his hand, hesitant.

“Come on, how am I gonna kiss you if I ate salmon and you didn’t?” I said, grinning at him.

That put a big smile on his face. He opened his mouth, popped the entire tart in, and chewed. About a thousand micro-expressions crossed his face over the next few seconds from shock to intrigue to disgust to acceptance.

After swallowing, he looked back up at me. “I will not be eating any more smoked salmon,” he said. “I did it, I tried something new, and now that chapter of my life is over.”

“The salmon chapter?”

He nodded. “Precisely. The rest of the tart was exquisite. I will give you that.”

“How about a nice refreshing slice of pear to get the taste out of your mouth?” I said, reaching over and grabbing a slice for him and for me.

“Kade, how many new things are you going to make me try at once?” he protested, but when I held the slice right to his lips, he took it into his mouth.

“A whole lot, if you keep letting me feed you like this,” I said, swiping my thumb across his lower lip.

He chewed thoughtfully, his eyes widening. “Oh, God,” he said. “I might need to try another one of those pear slices.”

“Oh, shit,” I said, reaching over and taking three more. “Have we found something new that Mason Hartley likes? Alert the media. Call the fucking police, actually,” I said.

“Be quiet and feed me,” he said, smiling up at me.

I held another slice to him, and he took it, his lip sliding over my finger, just for a second.

“You are gonna kill me, Hartley,” I said quietly, passing him the last couple of pear slices.

“You guys are gross,” I heard from behind me. Jenny appeared at our side, her eyes going wide as she saw Mason walking back over to the tray of fruit and getting more pear. “Oh my God,” she said. “Kade, you’ve—you’ve cracked some sort of code. You’re a Mason whisperer. I’ve never been able to get him to try pears.”

“All it took was a little suggestion,” I said.

“What are you doing still in here?” came Aunt Marie’s voice a few seconds later. “Grandma May is liable to go hoarse out there asking for the two of you. She’s got her video camera going. I swear she’s had the same old clunky one since 1998…”

I cleared my throat. “We better go,” I said to Mason, and he finally turned, nodding once.

“Let’s get out there,” he agreed, and we made our way through the crowds of people into the common room.

Grandma May was about as charming as a grandmother could be, wearing a big fuzzy red sweater with her gray hair up in a bun. She had one wrinkled hand on her walker and the other one holding up a camcorder.

“Mason,” she said, blinking her sky-blue eyes at him. “I hear you’ve got a special someone this year. Who is she?”

“Oh,” Mason said, leaning in close to her. “Not she, he. Remember, I’m… I’m gay?”

“Right, honey, of course,” she said, grinning. “Homosexual!”

Mason laughed, then looked up at me, mouthing the word sorry.

“I brought my boyfriend, Kade, this year,” Mason said. “Kade, this is Grandma May.”

“Oh, wow,” she exclaimed, her eyes fixing on me. “Well, aren’t you tall?”

“I suppose so,” I said. “Do you like tall men, Grandma May?”

“I certainly always did,” she said.

“Kade just got me to try a pear,” Mason said.

“What?” she cried out, looking aghast at Mason. “You, a pear? Well, did you vomit?”

Mason and I both laughed. “Guess what? I actually enjoyed it.”

“I’m so happy for little Mason,” she said, shaking her head and looking up at me. I remember when he was born, came out so small, only five and a half pounds. Can you believe it?”

“I had no idea,” I said, stepping over to put my arm around Mason.

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” Grandma May said, shakily bringing up her camcorder. “Hold that pose, will you, boys?”

We obliged and waited as she pushed about every button there was on the camcorder.

“Okay, I think she’s recording, now,” Grandma May said, pointing toward us. “Stay like that, that’s good… now, I’ve been asking all the couples and families at the party the same question for the Christmas tape this year. I make one every year and send it out to all the family members.”

“That’s so sweet,” I said. “You do an incredible thing for the family.”

“She’s the best,” Mason said. “What’s your Christmas spirit question this year?”

“I want to hear what you love about each other,” she said. “That’s what the spirit of Christmas is, after all, isn’t it?”

For the first time since visiting Mason’s family, I felt a kick in my gut. For a moment I couldn’t speak, like the wind was knocked out of me. Mason had turned to look up at me, too, and he had a slightly panicked look on his face.

I knew exactly how he felt, for once.

“I—uh, well, we—” Mason stuttered, failing to come up with words. He looked down at the floor, and I knew it was because he couldn’t bear to make eye contact with me at that moment. I felt like I had whiplash. Worse than whiplash—like I’d been through a fucking tornado, just because Grandma May had suggested that we loved each other.

Why had that affected me? It was one thing to pretend we were boyfriends—that was easy; kissing Mason felt good, sleeping in his bed next to him felt good, interacting with his family was easy and fun for me. Hell, it was even a thrill to get away with it all, to have a huge secret and be so good at keeping it.

But having someone suggesting that we loved each other was a step that neither Mason or I had ever expected. It was a step too far, a glaring reminder that we were deceiving all these people, and they had no idea just how much of an act it all was.

Grandma May, this sweet old woman, thought we were in love. If she knew that I was just somebody who Mason hired, she would be devastated. Love was something more serious, something that I’d said to precious few people in my life.

Love wasn’t a playful Christmas weekend where I pretended to be someone’s boyfriend.

If love came into the equation, it felt a little too real.

But we were standing in front of an old camcorder with a big, red recording light shining at us, and we had to say something.

“I—uh,” I started. I felt Mason move a little closer toward me, wrapping his arm around my waist and giving me a little squeeze.

At that moment, it was all I needed.

“I love so much about Mason,” I said. “I love the way he sees the world—he’s so observant and caring and attentive to everyone around him.”

Grandma May was smiling, nodding encouragingly at me.

“I love the look in his eyes when he sees something he likes, and I love how unbelievably intelligent and hardworking he is.”

“So intelligent, yes,” Grandma May said.

“I love his cooking,” I said, thinking. “And… I love his smile. Nothing brightens my day like making him smile.”

“Oh, how beautiful,” she said. “You two are sweeter than sugar. How about you, Mason?”

“I—I—” he said, and finally I had the courage to look down at him and make eye contact. It was a brutal mistake on my part, though. He looked raw and vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen in a while, his face so open and slightly afraid. I wished I could help him, wanted so badly to be able to coach him through this, to help him find his voice, but I was at as much of a loss as he was.

“I… love… Kade,” Mason said, forming the words like they were the first ones he’d ever spoken. “I love him because he makes me feel like I’m… somebody. He makes me feel like I’m worth a damn, in this world, in a way no one ever has. I love him because he sees me.”

I felt like I’d been turned to glass, and if Mason looked up at me, I might shatter.

“And I love that he knows when to tell me to shut the hell up and try a piece of fruit,” Mason said, letting out a quick laugh of relief, like he’d just dodged a bullet. I pulled in a deep breath, too, smiling over at Grandma May’s camcorder and nodding.

“That okay for the video?” I said.

“Oh, you know we need a quick kiss,” she said. “For the camera, huh?”

I nodded. And before I could overthink anything, I turned quickly, closing my eyes and dipping to catch Mason in a quick, chaste kiss, just long enough to make for a sweet image. I pulled away, feeling like I might combust if I got any closer to him.

“Bravo!” she said, laughing and turning off the camera. “Now, are you two going to sing carols with the other children?”

Mason smiled. “No way, Grandma. I might be doing a lot of new things, but I will never sing in front of people.”

“Oh, you’d love it, Masey,” she said.

Mason shook his head. “Not a chance.”

Mason’s mom appeared at our side soon after and began doting on Grandma May, talking about some other family member that they’d seen.

Mason turned to me, beaming at me, as he pulled me aside. “Can you believe it? That was so good. You totally saved me. Incredible job, really.”

He was clearly jazzed up, proud, even. But I still felt like I was about to be sucked into the ground beneath me. Why had that felt so intense, but everything else we’d done hadn’t? As Mason talked to me, I felt like I was floating a few inches above the ground, watching everything happen in slow motion.

“You know what I think we need? More pears. And maybe some champagne.”

I nodded, tuning back into reality. “Okay. Champagne. Yes,” I said, following Mason through the crowd, back to the kitchen and over to the bar. He grabbed two glasses of champagne, handing one to me. He clinked his glass to mine, tossing back a sip, but I couldn’t stop staring down at the bubbles, rising to the top and bursting, one by one.

“Um, I need to… to step outside for a minute,” I said.

“Hmm? You okay?” Mason asked.

I shook my head, then nodded. “Yeah. Fine. I just need to make a… a phone call,” I said. I was making things up as I went, but really all I knew was that I needed to get outside, fast, to fresh air and anything that wasn’t this party.

“All right,” Mason said. He was still smiling, taking another sip of his champagne. “I still can’t believe how well we played that. I mean, it even felt real. I’ve never done acting like that before!”

I just nodded, feeling like my ability to breathe was getting worse and worse by the minute. “I’ll… I’ll be back in a bit,” I said.

Mason floated off happily toward Micah as I turned to head out to the front yard. I’d never seen Mason so confident and on top of the world, and I was drowning. I finally pushed back out through the large double doors and made my way out, crossing over the large lawn until I was past a big oak tree. I leaned against the trunk, taking a deep breath. The long branches that dipped down around me felt like a cocoon, and the cold air was the perfect slap to the face that I needed. I hadn’t even bothered grabbing my jacket, and I enjoyed the bite of the air that came through my sweater.

I looked down to see that I still had the full champagne glass clutched in my hand, and I downed the whole thing at once.

It was like I was someone else. Like I wasn’t myself or I’d switched places with Mason or something was wrong. This type of party was usually my bread and butter—a whole room of people to meet, people to charm, people to get to know. I loved it. I thrived on it.

But as soon as Mason and I had to talk about what we loved about one another, I had crumbled.

I had always had an indifferent opinion of the word love. It was a thing for other people, for normal people, the type who committed to one another and had long-term relationships. I wasn’t that person, though. I’d told people I’d loved them before, but it had always still felt casual to me. I had loved Gabe because he was such a good dancer. I’d loved Christine because her knowledge of paleontology was astonishing. I’d loved the way it felt to fuck Nathan while he had his silk tie wrapped around his eyes.

But what just happened inside with Mason was different. I was playing the part of the Good Boyfriend, describing all the sweet little things I loved about him.

And it had been so terrifying because… everything I said was true.

Ever since we’d arrived at Mason’s family’s, I had found myself doing a little mental check in my head, congratulating myself for what a good actor I was being every time I did a “boyfriend thing.” But when I’d listed off all the reasons I loved him to the camera, it didn’t feel like acting. I’d been put on the spot, and with every point that I made, I’d realized further and further that they were all true.

But I couldn’t possibly love Mason. It was ridiculous. He was a client, and I wasn’t the type to fall in love or fall for anything at all.

The method acting was getting to my head. It had to be the only reason. Because the only other option was so much worse: that I was actually falling for Mason.

For fuck’s sake.

And if somehow my wires were getting crossed and the acting was tricking me into thinking I was falling for Mason, I had to nip it in the bud quickly.

I pulled out my phone, looking for any quick distraction that I could find. I had a wrench in my gut now, and I was either going to have to redirect my attention or drink a ton of alcohol. I had two new emails in my inbox, marked urgent, and I felt another spike of adrenaline run through me.

The messages were from my electric provider, informing me that my power had just been shut off back at home.

Well, that was just fucking peachy.

I’d just earlier today sent all the money I’d earned from Mason’s sessions, straight to my landlord’s bank account. I didn’t currently have anything left to pay my electric, and I thanked God that I’d still be at Mason’s family’s house until tomorrow night. Not that it was any easier, now that I had some weird reaction to pretending I loved him.

But the email alert just set everything in stone for me. I couldn’t lose Mason as a client, and no matter what strange feelings I had about him, I had to ignore them. Squash them now while I still could. It wasn’t good for me or for him to think those types of things.

After another few minutes outside, I gathered the strength to return inside. The warmth felt good to me now instead of suffocating. I found Mason surrounded by a group of young women, regaling some tale from college.

He turned my way when I appeared, smiling wide and instantly slipping his arm around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hi, boyfriend,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.

And I was swept up again, instantly, powerless when he was next to me.

A good three hours later, we were finally back at his parents’ house, escaped from the party and the festivities and the crowds. I’d been waiting for the moment all night when it would just be me and Mason alone again in the guest room, but now that it was here, I was certain that I’d been wrong.

In fact, this might actually have been worse.

“God, we did so well tonight,” he was saying after we’d both changed into our sleep clothes. “I have never felt so good at the Christmas party.”

“You did so well,” I said. “Really. I’ve also never seen you so confident before.”

“It also just felt good,” he said, smiling as he plopped down on the bed, propping his arms behind his head. “It felt good to pretend I had a boyfriend. Pretend I was in love. All that. Almost makes me think I’ll be okay at it whenever I do have it.”

I crossed over to the other side of the bed, still avoiding his eyes. “I know you’ll be good at it,” I said. “You’ll be great.”

“Thank you for all your help, Kade. This was… probably the best Christmas I’ve had in years. And not just because Micah slipped me a Starbucks gift card at the party.”

Don’t tell him, I thought. You cannot tell him how much today meant to you, too. You’re only going to hurt him, if not now, then later. You’ll hurt him and yourself and inevitably fuck everything up.

I forced a laugh and nodded. “Yep,” I said. “It was… it was a good one.”

Mason furrowed his brow, cocking his head at me. “Are you… all right, Kade?”

“What?” I asked, turning to him. “Of course. I’m great.”

He shook his head, glancing sidelong at me. “Kade… you can’t fool me. I know cagey when I see it. I’m the king of cagey. Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine, Mason,” I said. “Really.”

He shook his head as I adjusted myself under the covers, reaching over to turn off my bedside lamp.

“I don’t buy it,” he said after a pause. “Please… please tell me what’s up?”

I let out a sigh. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said.

“But… you always want to talk about everything. I mean, literally everything. I’ve never seen you quiet for longer than about three minutes.”

“Well, maybe you’re finally seeing it now,” I said. “Good night.”

“Oh, God,” Mason whispered. “Oh my God, I’m an idiot. You… you didn’t like it,” he said. “You didn’t like the Christmas party, didn’t like us pretending to be boyfriends.”

I turned and saw that he was burying his head in his hands, clearly in distress. “I should have known sooner. When you left the party… Kade Thompson doesn’t get nervous at parties. You were trying to get away from me. Jesus, I’m so sorry, Kade—”

His voice began to grow weaker, and my heart felt like it was being squeezed with a vise.

“Fuck,” I muttered, reaching over and putting a hand to his hip. “Mason, it’s not that, I swear to you. It’s just… my own shit.”

He pulled his hands down from his face, looking at me, his cheeks redder than ever. “You mean you weren’t… you weren’t trying to avoid me? Kade, it seems pretty freaking obvious, now that I’m thinking about it. If you didn’t like it, please tell me. I’m worried that I—that I violated you, that I upset you—”

“For fuck’s sake, no,” I said, probably too loudly. It felt like the ground was cracking underneath me, and if I didn’t say something, I was going to slip down forever, tumbling into darkness. “Of course not. I… goddamnit, Mason, I fucking loved it. I loved it more than I ever should have. I loved every second of it, and I shouldn’t have.”

“Wh… what?” Mason said.

“You heard me,” I said. “I loved pretending to be your boyfriend. But you’re my client, and I’m a mess, and I don’t do this kind of thing ever, and I just feel so out of place and wrong. And you felt good for the first time in so long, tonight, and now I’m just ruining it with my own shit.”

Mason was watching me, his eyes wide, as if he wasn’t sure whether to speak.

“I don’t want to ruin any of this for you, Mason. Your journey to confidence, your search for someone to love, your enjoyment of an amazing night. And I can’t tell you the truth—that I was wildly attracted to you tonight, that every time I looked at you, I thought about our kisses last night, that I couldn’t wait to get you back in bed... I need to keep these things to myself, and… hah, I’m clearly failing pretty spectacularly at that, right now.”

Mason swallowed, looking to the side for a moment, lost in thought. We hung in silence for what felt like forever, and I waited for him to react, to say anything, to tell me that I wasn’t single-handedly ruining the one good thing he’d found in his life.

“I knew I should have kept silent,” I said quietly, turning away. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Mason. After tomorrow, you don’t have to see me again.”

“What if,” Mason said suddenly, “what if… just for tonight, we put everything on pause? Forget about the fact that I’m your client, like you said. Forget about the fact that… we’re faking it.”

I turned in bed, looking up at him intently. I needed to know exactly what he meant. I wouldn’t dare assume, wouldn’t dare hurt him like that.

“What do you mean, Mason?”

“What if we just… let ourselves have it for one night? Pretend that we’re boyfriends… even with each other?”

“Christ,” I muttered. “Mason, you… you don’t want to do this. I’m unavailable. I’m not… I’m not someone you can count on. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He shook his head, coming a little closer to me. “That’s what I’m saying. It won’t matter, just for tonight. I promise.”

I was silent, just watching him close as his eyes danced over my face.

“Don’t you want it… just as much as I do?” he whispered.

Mason looked more beautiful than ever in the low light, illuminated from behind with his small bedside lamp. For this split second, I wished I were someone else, someone who could be what Mason needed.

“Just for Christmas,” Mason said, his voice low. He reached out, hesitantly, but finally let his hand fall, right at the dip of my waist.

“Just for tonight?” I said, knowing that I was spelling my own doom.

He nodded, biting his bottom lip between his teeth.

I couldn’t say no to him at that moment. I couldn’t dream of it. And like quicksand pulling me under, I was already in too far deep to ever stand a chance.

I leaned over, pulling Mason in and crushing my lips to his. He moaned as our lips finally touched, and unlike last night, I felt a primal, unchecked urge that I didn’t bother tamping down. As I kissed him, I reached lower, gripping my hand around the back of his thigh and pulling him across me so that his leg swung over my own.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t innocent or friendly or just two friends kissing to feel better in the middle of the night. Mason was already moving to straddle me, rolling his hips so that I could feel the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, brushing right up along my hip.

“Fuck, Mason,” I said as he broke off from my lips, kissing down my neck, just as hungry as I was. He had been confident and electric all night, and now was no exception—it was like he’d had all this energy pent up inside him and had just been waiting for me to say go.

And God, he was going. He was kissing against my collarbone, pulling down the neck of my shirt. I reached my arms around him, squeezing his ass in my palms, and I reached up to give him a gentle smack on his ass.

He called out, louder than I’d expected.

“Be quiet,” I whispered, reaching up and smacking his ass again. This time he obliged, trying to keep his moan quiet, but his face was fucking beautiful to behold.

“If you were really my boyfriend, I’d get you back for that,” he said, grinning devilishly at me before dipping down again, nibbling against my earlobe.

“If I were really your boyfriend, we’d be doing this somewhere where you could call out as loud as you want,” I said, digging my fingertips into his hips. “And I’d make you beg for it.”

“Oh my God,” he whispered, and he rolled his hips against me again, pushing his erection into me even harder than before.

I leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss, and I kissed him deeply, feeling his tongue slide against my own. I was beyond rational thought, at that point—I was just a vessel for pure need, and Mason was the beacon, shining so bright in front of me. He broke away from the kiss to breathe, and then he laced a hand through my hair, gripping me from the side of my face.

“If you were mine, I’d have been whispering in your ear all night about how I’d want you to fuck me when we got back home,” he said.

I pulled in a sharp breath, feeling as my cock jumped under my pants. “Jesus, Mason,” I said, hipping up into him, desperate. I had not been expecting him to say that, of all things. “You… you want that?”

“It’s all I can think about,” he said, his hand snaking down my torso until he let his palm rest on my cock, gently stroking it through the fabric of my sweatpants. “And if you were my boyfriend, I’d already have you inside me.”

That was it.

I was certainly going to die, in some horrible way, as a consequence for my actions this evening. But I held zero power over myself at that moment. Mason was writhing on top of me, petting my fucking cock, grinding his erection against me, and he was talking dirtier than I’d even known he was capable of.

It was one thing to have him play as my pretend boyfriend but another thing when he was all over me in bed, short-circuiting my brain and turning me on so much that I was about to burst.

“You know what, Mason?” I said, cupping my hand around the back of his neck. He looked down at me, eyes wild and heavy-lidded. “You’re fucking trouble.”

“You love it, boyfriend,” he said.

I just shook my head, wondering how in the world I’d gotten lucky enough to have this man on top of me. I pulled him into a kiss, and I gave in.