Bang (Blast Brothers #2) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,43

look awake to me."

Oh, please. I didn't look awake. I looked ridiculous. My pajama pants were too baggy, and my tank-top was too tight. And don't get me started on the slippers.

But hey, it could always be worse. Until I'd decided to get up for water, I'd been lying in bed, wearing only the tank top and panties.

I hadn't been able to sleep. And in a way, this was Mason's fault, whether he realized it or not.

When I'd first crawled into bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that Arden had revealed today at her house. And then, I'd spent way too long obsessing over the idea of Mason sleeping somewhere else – or rather with someone else.

I'd been wondering what he was doing, and exactly who he was doing it with. By now, I'd been living here for nearly two months, but I still hadn't met any of his dates, or female companions, or whatever you'd call them.

But I did wonder who they were and where Mason met with them, because by now, it was pretty obvious that he didn't bring any of his dates home. Or at least, he hadn't brought any home since I'd been around.

Still, I wondered more than I should've.

And if I were being totally honest, I'd been wondering such things for a while now.

But tonight, all of the wondering had made me thirsty and restless.

So, here I was. And, as far as the pajama pants, I'd only thrown on those just in case.

In case of what?

Well, in case of this, actually. Being caught in pajamas was bad enough, but to be caught in my panties? Now that would've been embarrassing.

Mason was standing near the kitchen's center island, holding a familiar document in his hand.

It was the report he'd requested after that incident with Veronica.

Before going to bed around midnight, I'd left the report on the island, thinking that Mason could simply swoop it up whenever he returned home.

I just hadn't expected the swooping to happen so quickly – or to find myself alone with him as he finished reading it.

And he'd definitely read it, alright. I knew this by the way he was holding it now.

The document was only three pages long, stapled together. But the first two pages were flopped over the side, leaving only the final page visible for his inspection.

But he wasn't looking at the report. He was looking at me.

Bracing myself, I said, "Alright, so what's the question?"

"I'm warning you, it's a tough one."

I feared as much. Although the report was relatively short, I'd left nothing out, not even the fact that Veronica had called me a whole bunch of four-letter words, and in return, I'd called her a few choice names of my own.

And that was before all the slapping.

And after the slapping? Well, I'd focused all of my energy on getting the heck out of there before things turned truly ugly.

Now in the kitchen, I prepared myself for round two – justifying myself to Mason. "Fine," I said. "Ask away."

"Alright," he said. "Tell me. What's a lunk-blaster?"

Chapter 27

Mason

Cami blinked. "Excuse me?"

Oh, man. She was so beautiful, standing there with her tousled hair and bedroom eyes. And don’t get me started on what she was wearing.

As far as my question, it wasn't what I'd planned to ask. I'd been planning to ask why she hadn't called my security firm – or hell, even me – as soon as Veronica started making trouble.

But once again, I'd gone off-script. It wasn't just a problem. It was a recurring problem, which meant that I was in deeper trouble than I'd realized.

See, here's the thing about mistakes. If you make a mistake once, you can deal with it. But once you start making the same mistakes repeatedly, you've got to look deeper into the causes.

But me? I was looking deeper into Cami's eyes.

We were standing several paces away, and the only light in the kitchen came from the small motion-activated lighting that ran along the floorboards.

But that didn't change what I saw.

In front of me, I saw the person who'd been haunting my thoughts for too damn long. And that look in her eyes – it was distracting the hell out of me, making me want to drop the report and pose a whole series of new questions – questions I had no right to ask.

What was she thinking?

Did she have a boyfriend back home?

Was she wearing a bra under that tank top?

The answer to that last question was obvious, and I worked