Page 40 of Risk

“What if he’s your penguin, Leah?”

Doubtful. “He’s just a fun fuck, Mak. Don’t make it anything more than that.”

Her silence makes me antsy.

“Look…” she finally says, “why not see where it goes? It’ll be a fun ride, whether it’s short or long. You deserve to have some fun with a guy who will treat you right. Sounds like Mason wants to do that.”

“I’m too busy for a relationship.”

“Make time then,” she claps back.

Between my job and my side hustle, I’ve barely had time for my best friend over the last few months. Dedicating any free time I have to this man sounds… okay, fine, it sounds amazing.

Wow, I’m a headfuck and a half today.

“I need coffee so I can overthink this more.” Hands balled into fists, I speedwalk down the sidewalk. “This is a triple espresso day, Mak truck. Maybe a quadruple.”

“Whatever it takes.”

We change the subject and bullshit about other things until it’s time for her to get to work. Once we hang up, I’m faced with the fact that I’m alone and I don’t like it. That’s new. I’m usually content chilling by myself. I work alone, eat alone, sleep alone… but today a hollowness spreads in my chest.

It feels suspiciously Mason-shaped.

Eew. What the hell is wrong with me? Do I actually miss him?

With a big fat cup of ambition warming my hands, I stare out the cafe window, questioning my life choices. I’m so close to starting my own business, I don’t have time for distractions. Or a relationship.

Or a reason to second-guess what I want to do.

But the thought of Mason calling anyone else Princess makes me want to murder someone.

This isn’t love I feel clenching my heart. It’s not infatuation either.

It’s something else that my heart wants to run from.

What the hell is the matter with me? How could I let this guy get under my skin so easily? It’s ridiculous.

Is it because he calls me Princess? No.

Is it because he gave me way too many orgasms that I had no idea I was capable of having in one night? No.

Is it because he’s stupid rich and can afford to give me anything I ask for? Hell to the no. I can buy myself whatever the fuck I want or need.

I only know how he makes me feel. Safe, adventurous, proud, adored.

Real talk: You know what did me in the other night? It wasn’t the sex—though that nearly sent me into my next life—it was afterwards. Mason spent the rest of the night bathing me, feeding me, brushing my hair, rubbing my feet, and cuddling. Time stopped that night. We talked for hours about our favorite foods, movies, music. I told him a little about my family, he shared stories about his. The conversation was easy. Effortless. We talked, laughed, and touched until we fell asleep as the sun rose. It was so natural and perfect.

Too perfect.

I woke up the next morning, and was so out of it, I didn’t know what planet I was on. Mason was in the shower, and I straight up panicked. All I kept thinking was, I don’t belong here.

So, I bolted and haven’t spoken to him since.

X hasn’t requested a private chat with me either.

I don’t know what I was expecting to happen after that night. It’s not like I thought he’d chase after me or anything.

“Leah.”