Mason POV
I look at Carina sitting opposite me on the plane. Her gaze is fixated on her phone, a small frown between her eyes. Whatever she is reading – or watching – does not please her. She is also unusually quiet. Granted, she only talks to me when necessary but since yesterday morning she has downgraded me to polite nods and smiles.
It irritates me, I exhale deeply and look out of the window. Honestly, everything irritates me at this point. The launch with its gorgeous models dressed in teensy bit underwear irritated me. Every time I saw a girl with red curls, I followed her, but it was never the girl I chased out of my room. Weirdest of all, I cannot remember when and where I picked up a girl and took her to my room. And - for the life of me - I cannot get the images of Carina in my
