Sam stepped back, grinning ruefully. “He switched from wanting to fight to wanting to party.”

Lacing our hands together, I started for the car. “You know Logan. He never changes.”

We shared a grin because only the Threesome Fearsome, what Logan called us, really knew the real Logan. He’d want to stir shit up before the end of the night. That was just him.

SAMANTHA

My hand never left Mason’s. When we went inside the club—as Kris squealed, gushing over everything, the walls included—we were led to a private area. When we got there, I felt overstimulated. There was so much to take in. The club was huge, like a smaller version of the football stadium. The private booth or box, I wasn’t sure what it could be called, wasn’t a private booth or box. It was a private everything. We had our own floor with its own dance floor, set above the main dance floor. The DJ booth was attached to our floor, set in a corner so the crowd below could see him. When he began a new beat, they went crazy, waving their arms and pounding on the floor.

It was nuts. I’d never seen anything like this.

Dry ice filled the room with white smoke. When the DJ would raise his arms, a burst of white smoke would shoot out over the floor. It raised and covered the front of our floor as well. Neon lights flashed all over, and I had to cover my eyes so I could adjust before a headache came on. There was a bar when we first entered the club, then another bar at the end of the hallway going to the private floor, a third at the top of the stairs, and four more set up all around us.

I touched Mason’s arm and he leaned down for me. “Is your entire football team here?”

“Uh.” He scanned the room and nodded. “Looks like.” He flashed me a grin. “Matteo’s birthday is a big deal. The team loves him.”

I could see that. There were people everywhere. A group of guys stood in a circle by the dance floor. They were sipping their drinks, talking, and watching the girls dancing. And the girls knew it. They’d smile over at them, move more seductively, and the guys would smirk back at them. There was an area filled with couches on the other side of the room. Again, a group of guys sat there, leaning forward with their elbows on their knees or lounging back, but it was obvious they were involved in a big discussion. Scattered around them, on the outskirts, were a few couples. A guy and girl had paired off. A few of the girls were straddling their guys and they were kissing, and I skimmed over the couches near us. There were more couples, but these were holding hands, talking, laughing, or just sitting beside each other.

Feeling Mason’s hand curve over my hip, a surge of warmth and pride went through me. This was his world. All these people had the best clothes. I’d been around wealthy people. I grew up going to Fallen Crest Academy. The average student came from a home who made $250,000 a year. Living with Mason and Logan, they were even wealthier than that, but I had never been intimidated by their money. I was now, and I had no idea why. Standing in this room, seeing the flashy clothes, the athletic bodies of all the guys, I felt apprehensive. My hand rested on top of Mason’s, and I left it there.

He glanced down, a small question in his eyes, as he pulled me closer. “You okay?”

I forced myself to nod, but my neck was stiff. “Yeah.” Just don’t go anywhere. Hearing my own inner thought, icy fear plunged my insides. I was losing Mason. I felt it.

Breathe, Samantha. Breathe. Run. Keep going. That’d been my mantra for so long.

My eyelids lifted and I skimmed over Logan. His arms were wrapped around Kris from behind. She was pointing around the room and his head was moved down beside hers. As she said something, he nodded and kissed the side of her neck.

“Sam.”

Jerking out of my thoughts, I forced my hand to loosen around Mason’s. I had been clenching onto him so tight, that I saw an imprint of my hand over his now. Instead of rubbing his hand so the blood could flow back into it, he lifted it to my chin and tipped my head back. He peered down into my eyes. A memory of when I first moved in with them flashed in my mind. He always could see inside me. My palms started sweating and a grin cracked over my lips.

“What?”

“I forgot what it felt like when you do that.”

“Do what?” A grin teased at the corner of his mouth, but he continued to look at me.

This was Mason. I was front and center to him. Always. “You can see inside me. No one else can do that.”

He nodded.

I started to look away, but he caught me and lifted my chin again. Moving so he was directly on top of me, his forehead rested gently against mine and his nose grazed against my nose, resting there. His chest lifted, tension filled him, and he let it all out. His body relaxed. His finger softened and began to caress my skin, then he murmured, “I can see inside you because I’m in there. You let me in.” His thumb rested against my cheek. He cupped the side of my face. “You always let me in and I knew, even when you first moved in, that you didn’t let anyone in. If I don’t tell you every day that I’m honored for that privilege, then I’m a fool. Because I am very honored.” He tilted my head back, raised my lips, and held his just over mine. They teased me, resting there, but not pressing against mine. “I love you so much, Sam. You’re in me too, just so you know. You can see inside me.”

As he murmured those words, something broke off and fell deep in my gut. I knew Logan loved me, and I was keeping that a secret. Shame, guilt, and disgust all swept together. Feeling a tear coming, I didn’t want him to see that. He would press me. I wasn’t ready to face that yet so I surged up on my feet, grabbed a hold of his face with both hands, and pressed my lips to his.

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