Needing to keep things casual before I turned misty-eyed with sympathy, I lifted my hand to the back of my neck and pretended to knead strained muscles. “I mind this crick in my neck you’re giving me by making me look up at you,” I said, startled when my fingers drifted over my scar.
Crap, I’d completely forgotten about my scar. I never forgot about my scar. Dropping my hand, I swished my head to make sure my hair fell back over the area, concealing any and all red, puckered flesh. “Sit down already.”
Scrutinizing my face as if he expected me to retract my invitation, Mason slowly looped the strap of his messenger bag from around his head. Then even more slowly, he lowered himself onto the bench seat beside me, leaving two feet of space between us and keeping his back to the table with h
