The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,65

flipped him off.

“You can stay here with Laila if you want,” Mason offered.

Please say no. Please say no.

“Maybe during the day and shit, when we are both training,” Ransom said. “But Rosamie is going to crash at my place. Aren’t you, darling?”

Rosamie smirked. “The hell you say.”

“What?” Ransom lifted his arms, throwing out his most charming grin.

Mason almost smiled before he remembered the circumstance, but when he checked Laila, he let the gesture bleed onto his face. There was definite amusement in her eyes, but it was muted.

“You don’t want to bring trouble home,” she told her friend softly.

Rosamie gripped her hand. “This is not your fault. And I’d like to see that piece of shit get through my mom. She’ll tear Joe a new one in like four different places.”

Ransom laughed, but Laila nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she murmured.

“You’re just trying to scare me,” Ransom sniffed. “She’s going to love me.”

“Who said you were meeting my momma?” Rosamie asked, her head drawing back.

The two got lost in their banter, which was equal parts sniping and flirtation.

Laila quietly slipped away from them, refilling her glass of port. She let him usher her into the kitchen, where she leaned back against the counter. “Thank you for inviting her to stay, too. I know she’s not your favorite person.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Um.” A tiny crease appeared. “Well, granted, I haven’t seen you interact all that much, and the first time was under tense circumstances…but you kind of stiffened up just now when you saw her.”

Not to mention the fact Rosamie admitted pushing Laila to go out with Dubey. She was probably very vocally anti-Mason too. However, given how things had looked from her perspective, he really couldn’t blame the woman.

Plus, he and the shitkicker did have one thing in common. We both love Laila.

Well, there was maybe more than one thing.

“I do like her,” he said, straightening in realization. “Because Rosamie is your Ransom—and believe me, having a Ransom at your back is always a good idea.”

Her nose wrinkled and she huffed lightly, almost laughing. “So, the stiffening is involuntary?”

His eyes widened. “Oh no, it’s intentional. For the record—I always brace myself when Ransom comes around. You should, too.”

A few days later, Laila waited until Mason left for his training session before going into his bedroom to curl up on his bed.

She knew she shouldn’t. He’d made it before he left. There was no way she’d be able to get those military-precision corners right.

Or I could ask him if I can sleep here. She knew he would let her. He wanted her.

Laila didn’t understand it, but she could tell. There was a heat in his eyes when he looked at her, but only when he thought she wasn’t watching. If she took him at his word, he’d always worn that look, even back in their old building.

Except Mason would never ask her to share his bed again. He would never take advantage of the situation or her vulnerability.

Laila buried her face in the bedding. So stop being vulnerable. And stop being a creepy stalker by smelling Mason’s pillows.

Forcing herself to stand, she smoothed the sheets. Good to his toes. That was Mason. Damn. Was it wrong to wish he were just a little bit bad?

No sooner had she thought it that she was swamped with guilt, one that backed up and ran over itself.

I am not Joseph’s girlfriend anymore, she told herself sternly. Their relationship had been over the second he struck her.

But she hadn’t told him so to his face…

Laila knew she didn’t owe him that. She didn’t owe him anything. Nevertheless, she felt as if she had missed something—the opportunity for a clean break.

I should have ended things weeks ago. Hell, she should have never moved in with him in the first place. Part of her had known that. If she’d listened to that instinct, maybe Jasmine would be alive.

That thought was another gut-punch, but Laila deserved it.

Nevertheless, she physically pressed her hands to her stomach, breathing in slowly until the band of compression went away. Mason was right. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself.

Laila made her way to the kitchen, intending on preparing a small breakfast. She found her phone on Mason’s charging base on the passthrough counter. He must have put it there for her.

The passthrough was her favorite feature of the house. She liked being able to see the living room from the kitchen and vice versa. Her least favorite was the shelves