CHAPTER 2
MIAI bounced up and down on my toes, pulling Mason up the white-paved sidewalk toward Melissa’s house. The house was bigger than the average home—two floors, about five thousand square feet, surrounded by acres of woods.
“You’re really excited,” Mason said, a tinge of jealousy in his voice. The wind blew softly, his golden locks falling onto his forehead. “Why don’t you ever get this excited for me?”
After plastering a fake smile on my face, I looked over at him. “I always get this excited for you,” I said, tucking some brown hair behind my ear.
He grimaced and even rolled his eyes.
“And besides, I haven’t hung out with Melissa and Serena in so long. I’ve been working and visiting Mom. It’s about time I got to spend a couple nights gossiping about you.” I playfully poked his stomach, trying to get him to smile.
“Talk about me or all the guys in my frat you want to f**k?”
I stopped before we walked into the house. “What’re you talking about?” I asked, brows drawn together.
He stared at me, nostrils flared. What is his problem?
He shook his head and seized the door handle. “Forget it.”
I pulled his hand away and stared at him. “Forget what? What did I do?” I asked, reluctantly leaving out the this time part that I desperately wanted to add.
His jaw twitched. “You don’t remember?” he asked, glaring down at me. “You f*****g mumble their names in your sleep. Every night, I wake up to you moaning about someone else.”
Mumble people’s names in my sleep? I’d barely slept last night.
After narrowing my eyes at him, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Whose name did I say?” I asked, testing him.
Mason was a deep sleeper. If he didn’t wake up when I turned my vibrator on full blast, he wouldn’t wake up from me mumbling names in my sleep.
“Victor.”
I raised my brows. “Victor? As in Melissa’s boyfriend?”
That man was a total man-w***e who only got girls because he had money. If that boy were poor, he’d have to beg for a woman’s attention. A disrespectful sleazeball. Not my type.
“I wasn’t dreaming of him last night,” I said, placing my hand on my hip. “Why would you even think that, Mason? He’s your best friend and my best friend’s boyfriend.”
He shook his head again, one of his many annoyed expressions crossing his face. “Forget it,” he said. Then, he walked into the house, not bothering to hold the door open for me, leaving me behind.
I stared at the glass door, lips pinched into a tight line, foot tapping against the concrete sidewalk. This f*****g man. I had done nothing. Absolutely nothing. And he thought he could—
“The door isn’t going to open itself,” someone said from behind me.
I stood up straighter, my cheeks tinting red, and turned on my heel to meet the piercing eyes of the one and only Mr. Bryne.
He twirled his car keys around his index finger and raised his brows at me as he walked up the sidewalk to the front door. Dressed in a fitted dress shirt, he had his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and his briefcase hanging off the other.
My cheeks warmed even more as I watched his biceps flex through the thin material. I smiled awkwardly at him, all my hazy fantasies dancing through my mind.
God, Mia, keep it together. Your boyfriend is just inside the house. Don’t want him thinking you have a crush on Melissa’s father now.
“Good evening, Mia,” Mr. Bryne said, my name rolling off his full lips, like it had a million times since high school. He pulled the door open, gesturing for me to enter.
I grasped the handle, my fingers sweeping against his long ones. “Hi, Mr. Bryne.” My fingers tingled at the contact, and I gulped.
It felt like years since I had seen him, but it had only been a few weeks. In high school, I’d see him every day, but now that we were in college, I only saw him when Melissa wanted to use his pool for a few days. So, I hopped on any chance I had to come over.
We stepped into the foyer.
“You’re staying over this weekend?” he asked, lips parted as he stared down at me.
I clenched my p***y, imagining those full lips trailing down my neck, his fingers slipping into my underwear, his c**k pressing against my entrance.
“Yep,” I said, hoisting my backpack up my shoulder.
He smirked, his eyes growing wide and … playful. “Well, I hope you girls have fun.”
His gaze flickered down my body for a mere moment, and my cheeks flushed.
Stop it, Mia. He’s probably just … looking at the carpet.
He leaned toward me. “If you need me for anything, Mia, you know where to find me.”
Then, he hiked the strap of his briefcase higher up his shoulder and walked up the stairs, his hand briefly brushing against mine as he passed.
His suit pants were tight against his a*s—
“Mia!” Melissa called from downstairs.
I took a deep breath, pushing away my dirty thoughts, and walked downstairs, where Melissa was talking to Victor, Damien, and Mason on the couch.
When she saw me, she hopped up from her seat and grabbed my hand. “I’m so excited for this weekend! We can finally relax.”
Serena pulled a couple bottles of tequila off Mr. Bryne’s downstairs bar and walked to the couch, sitting next to Damien. “You guys staying for a drink?”
Victor looked at his phone. “Party doesn’t start for a few hours. Pregame?”
Victor, Damien, and Mason were all part of the same college frat, Sigma Alpha Elision—or whatever the hell it was called. They threw ridiculously huge parties every weekend, where everyone either got smashed, got f****d, ended up in the hospital, or a bit of all three. I had been to one too many and was getting tired of it.
The guys stayed for an hour, finishing a whole bottle of tequila by themselves. I watched Mason drink one drink after another and thanked the gods above that I wouldn’t have to deal with his a*s after the party tonight.
I sipped on my glass, the alcohol making me woozy. Mr. Bryne walked downstairs, still in his damn suit. He grabbed a glass, sighed through his nose, his back muscles relaxing, and poured himself a drink.
Damien stood up from the couch, placing the bottle on a side table and checking his phone. “You guys ready to get f****d up?”
I rolled my eyes, taking a deep breath through my nose, and watched Damien kiss Serena good-bye and Victor hug Melissa. Mason nodded at me like I was one of his friends and squeezed my shoulder.
No kiss on the lips. Just a measly shoulder-squeeze and a half-hearted good-bye. I stared at his departing frame, a frown stretching across my face. The front door shut behind the guys, and Melissa laughed.
“They’re going to get plastered tonight.” She grabbed her glass and a bottle of wine, nodding toward the stairs to her bedroom. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Serena popped up after her, following her toward her bedroom. I sighed, feeling bad that Mason showed no ounce of affection toward me anymore, and stood up.
Mr. Bryne glanced over at me, his biceps flexing. I looked at him for a moment longer than I should’ve. He didn’t break eye contact with me, just turned around and leaned against the bar.
Grabbing my drink from the table, I begged myself to look at his face and his face only. Nowhere else, Mia. Not at those lips curled into a smirk. Not at his taut muscles. Not at the bulge in his pants.
I sipped my glass and stared over at him. His deep, gray eyes were playful again.
“Is there something wrong, Mia?” he asked, voice low.
I parted my lips, unable to form any coherent words.
Mason. Think about Mason.
But all I could think about was Mr. Bryne placing me on the bar counter and f*****g me senseless. His full lips all over my body. His teeth biting gently into my neck. His fingers—those long fingers—rubbing my clit the way I did every night.
“Mia!” Melissa shouted from the bedroom. “Are you coming?”
I blinked a few times and stepped to the side, trying to think clearly. Then, without another word, I walked past him.
“It’s not my place to say anything,” Mr. Bryne said before I walked up the stairs.
I stopped and looked back.
He paused for a moment and stared back at me. “Your boyfriend.”
“What about Mason?”
His tongue glided against his teeth, his jaw tight. “He should treat you better.”
After staring at him for a few moments more, I nodded and walked up the stairs, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. “He should,” I whispered to myself.