Dante shifts to the left, and there she is.
Fuck! She’s a sight to behold.
I drink her in like the starved man I am.
The curls I love to run my hands through tumble around her shoulders and down her back to her waist.
Her toned muscles and luscious curves are displayed in all their mouthwatering glory in a tight white tank top, the deep U of the neckline showcasing the generous swell of her cleavage.
As hot as the upper half is, the bottom sure as shit holds its own. Her jeans look painted on, and I can’t wait to see what the back view looks like. Those sexy-as-fuck boots bring to mind all the ways I can get them wrapped around my hips.
My favorite thing about her in this moment? It’s the first time her eyes haven’t been rimmed in red in weeks. I hate that she ran, but at least being here seems to have done her some good.
I can’t stop my mouth from tipping up at the corners when I notice I’m not the only one cataloging the other’s appearance. Kay’s molten eyes are like a physical caress as they travel across my chest and down to where my black t-shirt clings to the muscles of my stomach.
The disbelief is clear to see on her beautiful face. My gaze drops to her mouth as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I know exactly what she tastes like, and I can’t wait until I’m the one doing the nibbling.
Without giving her a chance to object to my presence, I cross the space between us in a few long strides, bend down, put my shoulder to her stomach, and toss her over it in a fireman’s carry.
Mine.
Time to show her I’m still her Caveman.
#Chapter32
I blink my eyes repeatedly, sure I’m hallucinating, but nope, he’s real. Looking hotter than should be legal in dark wash jeans filled out by his muscular thighs, a black t-shirt molded to his washboard stomach, and a backward black ball cap is Mason Nova.
What the hell is he doing here?
Like a flower to the sun, my body turns to follow his as he walks around people and the table to me. Without a word, I’m suddenly lifted from the ground and hanging upside down over his shoulder, causing me to let out a screech.
When he turns to take us away from the group, I brace my hands on his ass—Why do I have to notice how amazing it is?—to peer up at my best friend, who’s supposed to have my back but is standing there unmoving.
“You’re not going to stop this?”
“Nope,” my supposed bestie answers.
“Seriously?!” My voice pitches.
“Go talk to him,” JT advises calmly.
“Why would I do that? And why are you so okay with this?” I try to gesture to the fireman’s carry I’m in.
“Don’t act like I haven’t made my stance on the situation perfectly clear.” He toasts me with his Solo cup.
I huff in frustration. “You are so not my best friend anymore. You are now Undesirable Number One to me.”
“Oh you must be mad if you’re using a Harry Potter reference, but you messed up there, babe, because you just referred to me as Harry—you know, the good guy?” He pretends to fluff his red hair, and I bounce on Mason’s shoulder with his laughter. “I’ve always fancied myself more of a Weasley.”
“Yeah, like Percy Weasley—book five Percy Weasley,” I spit out, super annoyed to still be hanging upside down.
“Now that’s just mean.” JT ignores me and speaks to Mason. “Good luck, man. She’s pissed.” He claps Mason on the shoulder and turns back to the flip cup table.
Confident JT isn’t going to follow and kick his ass—much to my disappointment—Mason carries me out the back door and onto the wraparound porch.
Once outside, he shifts me from his shoulder to pin me between the side of the house and his body. Tingles follow in the wake of his touch, his hands skimming up the backs of my thighs to wrap my legs around his hips before cupping my butt.
I try to hold on to my mad, remembering how hurt I was when he broke up with me and all the reasons he needs to stay away from me. It doesn’t work. With our bodies pressed together in such a familiar way, every defense and objection I have flows out of my brain, one after the other.
It doesn’t help that JT is right and he’s had me teetering closer and closer to the edge of giving in and taking a chance on love.
Bitch please. *eye roll of all eye rolls* Who are you trying to kid? You know you were planning on taking back Mr. Tightest End—hehe, see what I did there?—when you got home.
Yeah…well…
Fuck! I can’t even argue with myself properly with Mason close. Is it really too much to ask to have gotten the two other days I thought I would have before I had to face him?
His exquisite seafoam green eyes bore into me with all the love I’ve been craving. How am I supposed to keep my distance when he looks at me like that?
Goose bumps break out across my skin, but I don’t know if it’s from the chilly November air or from being so close to Mason.
Memories of each pregame good luck kiss trickle into my brain, my back pressing into the hard siding as Mason shifts to balance me with his lower body.
An involuntary moan passes through my lips as the hard length of him hits my center. My senses are overwhelmed by the flex of his muscles around me, the scent of his fresh soap filling my lungs, and the body heat warding off the worst of the chill.
My hands fall to his heaving chest, the cotton of his shirt warm under my touch.
Oh, how I’ve missed this, missed him.
I’m not sure how long we stay there, staring at each other, both our hearts pounding—he’s so close I can feel
