Falling For His Escort [Book #3]

Chapter 20

After I'd taken a shower and slipped into something more comfortable, I rejoined Mason on the couch.

He and I were snug under a blanket on the couch with chocolate chip weed cookies in our hands. Neither one of us could stop laughing while we binged through the Child's Play movies.

I can't believe these movies used to scare me as a child. I honestly shouldn't have even watched them as young as I did.

My parents told me and Haley that we couldn't see it, but we went behind their backs anyway. We ended up having nightmares for weeks, which became a punishment for us disobeying our parents.

But now that I'm older, these movies have become pure comedy gold. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm high.

Bolt kept looking up at us like we were crazy. He didn't understand what was so funny. Especially because seeing Chucky scared him.

He'd flinch every time the little red haired demon doll popped up onto the screen. And then he'd ferociously bark and growl at the TV as if that would somehow scare it away.

Imagine how he'd react if he saw Annabelle.

When our laughter eventually died down, I yawned and laid my head on Mason's lap. He gently stroked my hair, looking down at me with a smile.

"So, there's another event I have to attend in a couple of days."

"Mm, okay. And what is it this time?"

"An art gallery. I've been invited by a friend of mine."

"That sounds fun."

He nodded in agreement, his fingertips brushing my collarbone and prompting a shudder out of me.

Pulling myself upright, I moved away from him to create some much needed distance. Technically, neither one of us has officially agreed to sleep with each other. And I could tell, and feel, Mason was still waiting for an official answer.

One night.

One night to do whatever he wanted to my body. That was the request. We both came to the conclusion pretty quickly that spending one night together would never be enough.

But even if it is just for a night, and temporary, it should still be enough to satiate us for the time being.

Right?

I mean it's better than continuing this torture, especially considering how comfortably close we have gotten to each other in just a matter of weeks.

We need each other.

He needs an escort. And I need to come.

"Mason?"

I didn't realize he'd been talking, -most likely about the art gallery- until his mouth stopped moving and the words that I had unintentionally blocked out was no more.

And just like his eyes have always done when hearing me say his name, they visibly turned a darker shade of green.

"Harlynn," he replied back, having me squirming and fiddling with the hem of my oversized black Chase Atlantic band tee.

"I just want to make sure we're on the same page," I found myself muttering just barely above a whisper.

I've never had a man cause such an effect on me. It's quite foreign considering I'm usually the one making them feel some kind of way.

He paused the movie, his eyes scanning my face. His head slightly cocked to one side, his brows drawn together to create one thick unibrow of confusion. "About what?"