Page 32 of Risk
“So? Most people are when they have bills to pay. That’s nothing to be proud about. I’m adulting. Whoop-dee-woo.”
“I admire you, Leah.”
That’s laughable. “You admire me for scrubbing toilets and getting beer stains off couches? Not likely.”
“Yeah, I fucking do. This isn’t easy work, and it’s never ending. But this whole time you’ve been busting your ass with a smile on your face. You were even more lively at my house last week. You love this job. You’re great at it. And it’s really underappreciated.”
Taking a step back, I’m not sure what to say. He must read the look on my face because Mason doesn’t stop there.
“Love what you do, do what you love. That’s the dream, right?” He cups my face. “But that’s not the only thing that’s got me awestruck by you.”
“What else is there about me you like so much?” Please don’t say my tits.
“Your drive,” his gaze drifts all over my face, making me feel admired. “You seem to live so unapologetically. From your day job to your night job, you know exactly who you are, what you like, what you want, and fuck all else.”
He’s right. I’ll never let another person’s opinion steer the path I carve for myself. I almost cave and tell him my ultimate business plan but go with, “I imagine you’re the same way.”
His hand drops from my face. “I’m getting there.”
“You’re filthy rich, Mason. You’re already there.”
But is he happy? I hate how my heart clenches worrying that he isn’t.
I’m suddenly in memory overload, ticking off the things I’ve seen about him so far. His condo is empty. It doesn’t feel like a home at all, just a glorified hotel room, honestly. He has no pictures of family or friends hanging on his walls. He ate dinner alone, in the corner, at that restaurant the other night. He’s here with me now, when one may assume he has plenty of better places to be.
My gut twists with sadness.
“It’s hard being elite, Leah. Everyone either hates you or uses you. You don’t get genuine admiration or respect. It’s all a façade so they can get something out of you.”
Cold words said in a frigid tone.
“I don’t want to get anything out of you,” I say in a rush, though why I’m defending myself, I have no clue.
“I believe that.” His tone warms. “And I’m not trying to get something out of you, either. I’m not trying to rent you.” He says in frustration. “I’m genuinely drawn to you.”
I get what he means because honestly? Same. I can’t seem to pull back from this guy. Even when I made him leave earlier, it felt awful, and I spent the entire time rage-cleaning because I was mad at myself for letting my insecurities get in the way of having fun. I called Mak and vented to her about everything, and she helped me pull my head out of my ass.
But when I saw him parked in the lot waiting for me after that?
Words cannot express my shock and relief. No matter how hard I try to mask my true feelings, there’s a chemistry here I don’t want to deny. Mason is too perfect for his own good. It’s scary because I don’t get attached. Having one-night stands is my mode of operation. This man? He’s not one-night stand material.
I have no idea what he is.
My heart skips when he reaches over and runs his fingers through my hair. Then he pulls out something from my frizzy tendrils and smiles. “You have a dust bunny in your hair.”
Blowing out the breath I was holding, I smack his arm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I smell like sweat, bleach, and glass cleaner. My head hurts a little. I’m tired. Mason’s not much better. We drive home in utter silence, but it’s nice. Comfortable.
“How about…” He pulls into his parking spot. “I draw you a nice hot bath?”
“I really should get home.”
“You promised me dinner, Princess.”
“Mason,” I sigh. I’m too tired to put up a fight, and too tired to eat.
He shuts the engine off and looks at me with a warm smile. “You pick the place. I’ll have it delivered. Deal?”