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me in close to him.
Does this mean you ll have caught your guy whenever you show up on campus someday with
your hair in a ponytail?
I shot him a strange look. Well, then I ll have to keep his attention, so& probably not.
Mason gathered my locks at the back of my head as if preparing to put it into a ponytail. Once he
had a hold of it all in one hand, he stroked a couple of knuckles down the side of my exposed jawline.
I don t think you ever have to worry about what your hair looks like in order to attract a guy. You
have too many other intriguing attributes to keep them interested.
My lips parted and my entire body throbbed. Mason? I said slowly, my voice timid. What re
you doing?
Something I probably shouldn t. His voice sounded hoarse and tender as he dipped his face and
pressed his forehead against mine.
I began to tremble. I don t know if it was because of anticipation, utter excitement, dread, or
outright fear. If& if you shouldn t, then& don t.
A throaty whimper like a wounded cougar tore from his voice box. Easier said than done. With
his fingers slipping through my hair, he curled his hand around to the back of my neck, urging my face
up, probably to align me into position for a kiss. Then he whispered my name.
God, the achy, husky way he said it was like a silken caress to every erogenous nerve in my body.
I think& I think it d be best if you stopped. My voice shook as badly as my limbs. But even as I
spoke, my hormones cried out for him to continue.
Okay, he said, but his breath continued to beat against my lips and his forehead remained
tattooed to mine.
I think an inch separated our mouths. I could sneeze and accidentally crush my lips against his.
Damn it, why wasn t my new nose ring making me sneeze?
But no way was I going to purposely be the one to cross the line that seemed to be drawn in that
inch of space. Crossing it would change everything. He tilted his head, keeping our brows attached,
and shifted to the side, but he kept that inch secure between us.
I knew he wanted to breech it as badly as I did. But the invisible barrier must ve been stronger
than both of our cravings. We feared what the change would bring.
His palm flattened on my neck, and when his touch slid over my scar, he frowned and paused. His
eyes questioned me before he turned me around and gathered my hair out of the way to examine the
nasty gash.
Feeling bare as a light breeze washed across my nape, I closed my eyes and tightened my fingers
around the book I was holding. So you see, that s why I don t pull my hair up anymore.
His fingers were gentle as he touched the numb, deadened area. This looks deep. What
happened?
I licked my lips. I was cut.
I see that. What cut you?
A knife.
Jeez. I d already told him too much. If he asked anything else, I wasn t sure what I d say. My
original lie was to tell people I d gotten it in a small car crash. What was I supposed to come up with
now?
An urge bubbled inside me. I actually wanted to tell Mason the whole story. Everything. But the
fewer who knew the truth, the better. And no matter how much he affected me, rationally I knew I
hadn t known him nearly long enough to trust him with a secret of this magnitude.
A knife, he repeated. Did it cut you on purpose?
Maybe. Definitely. And if I hadn t whirled away to run from Jeremy any faster than I had, this
scar wouldn t have been on the back of my neck either. It would have been in the front, and I probably
wouldn t be standing here today.
I shuddered, trying not to remember that night, trying not to relive the fear.
As if sensing the panic that was clawing its way up my throat, Mason leaned forward and pressed
his lips to the scar.
I whimpered and closed my eyes, biting my lip to stop my chin from quivering. If I started crying
now, that would be it. I d forfeit everything.
If you don t give away freebies, I said, bracing myself to say what I needed to say to stop this
from progressing further, then are you going to charge me for that?
No. He kissed the spot again, his lips lingering over the area. I listened to him breathe in as he
smelled my hair. It sent a shockwave of awareness down my spine and cramped the muscles low in
my belly. I wanted this to last. I wanted him to spin me around and give me a real kiss.
It wasn t mouth to mouth, so& no charge.
I turned to face him, hating myself even before I continued. So if you kissed me, say, on the
breasts, that would be free since it s not mouth to mouth?
His gaze turned hard. No. That s part of foreplay; it s off limits.
And what you just did isn t foreplay? I knew I was being cruel, but I also knew the fastest way
to get him to retreat was to remind him of his profession. And he needed to retreat, because I was
pretty sure I couldn t.
That was a friend comforting another friend. His eyes sparked with anger as he clenched his
teeth.
I see. With a nod, I asked, So, you weren t about to kiss me mouth to mouth just before you
discovered my scar?
Jesus, he railed, swiping his hands through his hair and taking a big step back. Yes, okay. I
almost kissed you. But I didn t. Mistake averted. No harm done. We re good.
Are we? I charged.
He stared at me, his mouth slightly fallen open. His expression looked wounded. What re you
saying, Reese?
I closed my eyes and groaned. I don t know. It doesn t matter. We can t ever kiss or anything else
because you sleep with women for money. End of story.
He rumbled out a sound of utter frustration. Why do you always have to remind me of that? Trust
me, I haven t forgotten.
I m not reminding you, I snapped, flashing my eyes open to glare. I m reminding me.
God, I was such an idiot. I cannot believe I just stood there and pretty much confessed I cared
about him as more than a friend, and the only thing holding me back was his& job.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. They sparked with interest and joy. He took a step toward me.
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