Off Plan by May Archer

Author:May Archer
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Fenn

Factually speaking, my room at the Five Star was the same size it ever was. Same industrial carpet, same sand-colored walls, same artwork I’d hung haphazardly over the years. At some point last night, though, during the hour or so when the thunder had been loud enough to shake the world, I’d lain on my bed in the dark and thought about Mason, who couldn’t sleep in the thunder, and the walls had seemed to close in on me.

Which, yeah, was fucking pathetic.

I’d finally drifted off to sleep, and when I’d blinked my gritty eyes open to the sound of my stupid alarm at 5:00 a.m., the room had been klieg-light bright again in the Florida sun, but I’d felt weirdly dissatisfied. The room had gotten bigger while I’d slept. Too big. Too sterile and impersonal. Too empty.

Which was arguably more pathetic.

So, before I could trace those lonely thoughts back to their source, I’d jumped in the shower. For the first time in a while, I was actually eager to get to work, because in the grand scheme of bullshit ways to spend my time, running Rafe’s boat ranked somewhere above pining for the straight guy down the hall when I’d fucking sworn I would never do that again.

I was so pissed at myself, I wasn’t paying attention when I passed Mason’s door… which was how I came to find myself with two arms full of stammering, shower-damp, sexy-as-fuck man.

“Whoa!” I grabbed Mason by his upper arms to steady him before he hit his head on the doorjamb. He smelled like salt and woodsmoke and everything cozy. I wanted to cuddle him, so I pushed him away. And it took effort.

But we were friends. So.

“Shit, sorry!” He took one look at my face and moved back another half step as he removed his earbuds. “Sorry, Fenn, I didn’t—”

“Have psychic powers to detect that I’d be walking by just now?” I said, forcing an unconcerned smile. “It’s fine. My fault, too.”

It was absolutely not fine. His wet hair curled on his forehead and waved around his ears. He was wearing a thin cotton T-shirt that highlighted his lean muscles and the dip of his collarbone, a body part that had never before and would never again be as sexy as it was in that frustrated moment.

Just friends. Whose fucked-up idea was this?

Oh. Right.

Mason chuckled and looked down at the sandy sneakers I’d noticed in his closet when I was playing super-stalker the day before. “Yeah, no. No psychic powers. I’ll leave that to Beale.” He smiled and it looked pained.

My own smile faltered. “Beale told you about that?” I didn’t know he talked much about his portents and shit outside the family.

“What? Oh. Yeah. He’s been driving me to work. Gave me a crystal to cleanse the air in my room.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Supposed to help me sleep.”

“Did it work?”

He shook his head and gave me a look that so clearly said, What the hell do you think, dumbass? that I could almost hear his voice in my head.

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