Friday morning
Mason heard the hiss of air and felt the sudden move of another body before his mind registered the daylight.
“Oh,” he tried to work his tongue, his voice groggy and his eyes struggling to adjust to the brilliance. “Good morning.”
“Why are you in my bed?”
Jack’s tone was clipped and sharp and Mason frowned. “I must have fallen asleep after I put you here. You were drunk—”
“I told you that I sleep alone,” Jack growled. “I f*****g told you that.”
“Relax. If you were worried you were going to piss the bed I think you’re all ri—”
Jack sat up and crawled over Mason, both feet falling hard on the floor. Jack’s scowl was righteous, his mood sour, and Mason had no clue whether to write it off to being hung over, or if he was completely missing something. “Jack, I’m joking, re
