“It’s not true,” Mason mumbled to his reflected self. He’d slipped out of his jacket and bee-lined it for his bedroom the minute they’d got back to the cottage. Not to pout, he’d told himself, just to think. He shouldn’t have been offended by the comment. He definitely shouldn’t have put snark into Jack’s tone when it hadn’t been there. Jack had defended him, had made him look extraordinary in front of an ex and all but stroked his s****l prowess in a public venue. That’s what he should have been dwelling on. Not on an insinuated, and potentially misunderstood ping at the relationships that Mason surrounded himself with.
“I have friends,” he told the mirror. Okay, maybe not Evan or Henry. They were pretty much weekend warriors that choose damn near everything over him. But that was normal
