Page 60 of House of Payne
I refuse to believe Mason knows anything about him. He’s just trying to get under my skin.
Still, a small voice in the back of my mind rears its ugly head.
What if Mason is right?
Do I want Noah to still be there when I leave the House of Payne behind for good?
Wouldn’t it be easier for both of us if he moved on?
You already know the answer to that. Noah deserves better. You just aren’t brave enough to let him go.
I love Noah, and I need to hold onto him.
I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t.
Without Noah between us, would Mason have more of an impact on me?
He’s just trying to make you doubt yourself. Don’t let him.
Coming to my defense whenever any of the other men can’t take a hint and insisting I take frequent breaks while cleaning doesn’t change anything.
For all I know, Mason is trying to make himself appear human to get me to lower my guard.
It’s working, isn’t it? You have caught yourself wondering.
I hate myself even more for it.
Even now, when I’m boxed between him, the wall, and the smell of his cologne, something musky and deep washes over me as I search for the man behind the mask. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m still looking for the man from the diner that day, the one with the gentle touch who helped tend to my wound.
He had no idea who I was that day.
I’ve gone over that incident so many times in my head, kicking myself for not being able to see through him sooner.
Or is the Mason standing before me the real man?
He lifts a hand to my face and casually tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “You and I both know that isn’t true, London. Let’s say I believe you—which I don’t. Working here is going to affect you, whether you like it or not—”
“It won’t,” I interrupt with a little more force than necessary.
Mason levels me with a heated look. “Did I say I was done talking? I’ll enjoy teaching you some manners.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “No, you won’t.”
Mason lowers his head so his mouth is inches from my ear, and I shiver. “Even if your little boy doesn’t get tired of waiting, you will. You’re already wondering how you’re supposed to go back to him after all this. Why don’t you just spare yourself the heartache and skip to the good part?”
I dig my nails into my palms and stiffen.
Slowly, I release a deep breath and ignore the swarm of butterflies in my stomach. “You’re not used to hearing no, are you?”
Mason chuckles. “I’m not. Are you?”
“No.”
“That’s why this will be fun.”
He steps back abruptly, and a blast of cold air wafts between us.
Goosebumps break out across my flesh as Mason increases the space between us, his eyes never leaving my face. Then, he turns and leaves the room without a word. I stand there for a long time, hunched against the wall, trying to remember how to breathe.
