He cuts me off with a chuckle. “You don’t get it.” I swear my heart skips a beat as his fingertips brush my chin. He holds my face, thumb stroking across the stubble, andbutterflies explode under my ribs. “Handling you was hard when you were an asshole, but handling you while you’re being nice?” He leans in, breath ghosting my cheek. “It’s even harder.”
Everything in me stills as his lips brush my jaw and thenexplodeswhen I realize thathe’s kissing me.
He presses another kiss to my skin, closer to my ear this time, and whispers, “Is that okay?”
God, I want to scream my answer.Yes, kiss me, ruin me, make me yours.
But then my brain flashes with dark hair and sharp eyes—Petite—and the promise I need to make.
“Mason.Not yet.”
He startles, eyes widening with something that looks a lot like hurt. I shake my head and cup the back of his neck, then press our foreheads together. “I just have to take care of a few things first, okay? Give me some time to do that. Then,nothingwill hold me back. You’re so damn kissable.” I kiss his cheek, then whisper against his skin, “So damn hot and fuckable.”
He vibrates against me, and I’m scared he’s going to cry again, but then I pull back to see him smirking.
“I’m a top, Luc.”
My jaw drops, but before I can even process the onslaught of ideasthatgives me, there’s a knock, and the door creaks open.
Alaina peeks in, and her eyes go wide when she sees us. Mason is half in my lap, my hand still on his neck, both of us flushed, rumpled, too close, too intimate.
My heart leaps straight into my throat.
Fuck.
For a split second, something flickers in her expression, but then she just smiles sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to check if you’re okay, but it looks like Luc has, umm… everything under control.”
“No.”I shake my head. “He needs both of us. Come here,Petite.” I pat the spot beside Mason, ignoring the way he’s stiffened again. “He needs an emotional support hug frombothsides.”
She hesitates, eyes flicking to Mason, waiting for permission. They look at each other for several moments, and he relaxes against me before giving her one of those small, tired smiles that’s somehow still stupidly sweet, and my heart combusts.
She steps in and closes the door before crawling onto the bed with timid movements, like she’s afraid she’ll shift the balance just by being too much.
She has no idea that sheisthe balance.
We’re still sitting awkwardly, so I tug Mason with me as I lie back against the pillows. He follows without protest, his body warm and pliant against mine.
Alaina hovers, like she’s not sure how to fold into us, so I grasp her hip, and she follows my guidance to lie down behind Mason. She curls into him slowly, letting her taped fingers slip over his side and her other hand rest near mine on his chest. Taking her wrist, I tug her closer until we’re all wrapped up in one long, messy line.
Somehow, even with all the bruises and cracks and unfinished conversations between us, wefit.
No one speaks for a long moment, but then Alaina whispers to Mason, “You okay?”
He exhales slowly. “I am now.”
“Areweokay?” She swallows, and I feel her pulse jump beneath my fingers.
He nods. “Yeah, Bambi, we’re good.”
“We’re all gonna be fine,” I promise, tightening my holdaround Mason and squeezing Alaina’s wrist. “I’ll make sure of it.”
And maybe it’s a lie. Maybe I can’t protect them from everything.
But I’ll bleed trying.
CHAPTER TWELVE
