Fallen Crest Family

I put my two bags beside the closet and started to search for my running clothes when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. A thrill went through me when I saw it was Mason calling. "Hey!"

"Hey," he was tired and tense.

I straightened abruptly. "What happened?"

He hesitated.

"Mason."

Then he gave in, "Your mom's a class act, Sam. And my dad's a clueless bastard. I can't believe it, but he's buying everything she said."

"Are you serious?" He couldn't be, but my heart sank. I had already known that James was going to believe her. He loved her, he had to.

"Yeah, but listen, she's faking. Even some of the doctors think it too. I heard one of the nurses talking about it in some office. They didn't know I could hear, but they were laughing at some diagnosis the doctor gave her. I guess it's given to headcases when they can't find anything wrong. They all recognized her from the ER trips she took during our road trip."

"Did you talk to my mom?"

Again, another strained silence before he admitted, "No."

So many emotions flared in me—disappointment, hurt, relief, and so many more.

He added, "I'm sorry, I really am. She banned me from the room. What I got from talking to my dad was that she's sticking to her story that she collapsed. She's saying it's because of all the anxiety we're giving her."

Of course.

I looked down. When would I learn? She was never going to change.

"I told my dad that you and Logan are going to move into Nate's. He agreed that it was for the best." I heard noises from his phone and knew that he had stepped outside. There was a rustling sound. Then there was a ding, a slam, and complete silence again. It wasn't long before his engine started and the rustling stopped. His voice came from far away, "Sorry about that, I'm on my way home now."

Home. Despite all the stress, a tingle of excitement flared in my stomach. My heart picked up its pace. He was coming home to me, with no parents, no hiding. We were living together, like a normal couple.

"I'll see you in a bit. Do you want me to pick you up something to eat? I was thinking of grabbing some food."

I was already shaking my head when I responded, "No. I'm going to go for a run. I've got enough time before I have to get back and head out again."

"Head out? Head out where—"

But I didn't hear him and hurried out, "Bye. See you later." Tossing the phone on the counter, I rushed to get dressed. I felt the old itch start up and knew that I wouldn't be able to quell it until I was sweating, panting, and sprinting on the road for an hour. Before I started out the door with my earbuds already in, I spied the phone and nabbed it quick. When I went down the stairs, I stashed it in a pocket, but I didn't worry about keys.

A large group had congregated to the back patio. As I went outside, more cars had accumulated so I knew I'd have no problem getting inside the house after my run. I had a feeling everyone would be there long until the next morning.

But then I stopped thinking and I started to salivate at the idea of a new running route. There'd be new roads, new parks, maybe even a running trail that would turn into a wooded maze. I couldn't help myself. I was sprinting by the time I got to the end of the driveway. After an hour I slowed down to a fast jog and kept that going for another hour. I figure two hours was good enough since Heather had already told me she needed me from five till close for my second day of training. As I started back, it didn't take me as long as I thought it would, or I ran faster than I realized, so my adrenaline was still pumping through me when I turned into the driveway.

The cars had multiplied. I wasn't surprised.

When I went inside, they were still on the back patio. The sounds of splashing and cheers told me they were in the pool. A few girls were in the kitchen and looked up as I came inside, panting and sweating. They were covered in string bikinis with long tanned bodies, holding frilly drinks. I stopped, grabbed the end of my shirt and used it to mop the sweat from my face. Their noses wrinkled up and were giggling as they went through the open door to the patio.

"Hey!"

I had turned for the stairs, but stopped. My knees buckled as Mason strode away from the group. God. My mouth watered, my drool mixed with my perspiration, and I was one wet girlfriend. As he walked towards me, I noticed that he had lost a little bit of weight. When had that happened? He'd been muscular before, but the slight leanness made the muscles on his arms even more striking. His shirt clung to his chest. It molded over the muscles that looked like an intricate map, one that only I got to explore. At the thought of tracing each and every dip with my finger, I grew wet between my legs.

Goodness.

"You okay?" He stopped before me, but the slight smirk that flashed at the corner of his mouth told me that he knew exactly what was going on with me. "I know how running can spur you on. I never knew it could turn you on too."

"Smartass."

The smirk doubled and his eyes darkened with desire as he stepped even closer. His chest brushed against my front, he was intimately close, and his lips lingered on my lips. "Goddamn Sam, you looking wet makes me hard."

My throat jerked in reaction and his eyes were glued to mine. Then his hand curled around my waist, and he tugged me closer. One of his legs slid between mine, hoisting me off the ground so I was straddling him as we both stood there.

"Mason," I whispered. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">