Page 3 of Forever Your Touch (Manwhore #4)

“This is your ride?” Her eyebrows raced toward her hairline, and he grinned at her incredulity.

If she weren’t in sweats and a t-shirt, he’d swear she was a high maintenance girl.

Then again, she was always in some kind of t-shirt when she recorded her Let’s Plays with her hair in a mess.

It was cute as hell. She was funny too. He kinda liked this spitfire side of her as much as he did her online persona.

“Don’t be talking about Bess like that. You’ll hurt her feelings.” He patted the hood and leaned down to whisper, “Don’t listen to her, girl. You’re beautiful.”

Jo huffed and got in the truck. “You talk to your truck?”

He turned the ignition and backed out of the drive, aware of the woman staring at them from through her living room window next door. “Who’s that?”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Ray’s mother.”

“You live beside his parents?” It was his turn to sound incredulous.

The sigh that rolled out of Jo spoke more than anything she could have said. Chick wasn’t happy about it. “Yes.”

“Back to your question. Yes, I talk to my truck. How else is she going to know how I feel?”

“Cars and trucks don’t have feelings.”

He gasped like she’d shot him. “Watch your tongue, woman. Bess has sensitive feelings.”

“Where did you even find something this old?”

Mason didn’t miss the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“It was my grandfather’s. My uncle gave it to me when I turned sixteen. None of my brothers wanted her, so I took her.”

“I can see why they didn’t. It’s straight out of the Stone Age.”

Mason stroked the dashboard. “She’s just jealous, Bess. You’re a good truck.” He shot her a glare. “Josephine clearly doesn’t appreciate a classic.”

“Just Jo,” she said and shifted in the seat, tugging at the seatbelt.

“I like Josephine.”

“I don’t.”

“Too bad.” He tossed her a cheeky grin. It was so easy to get her riled.

She looked ready to throttle him. “Here’s the thing, Mason. The only reason I came was so I could tell you I don’t need a babysitter, no matter how much Keith thinks I do.”

“I’m not your babysitter. I’m your FIBB.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” She tossed her hair back in a classic girl flip. “You are not my brother.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he muttered.

Her eyes narrowed, but he interrupted her before she could say anything.

“Keith’s worried about you. I promised him I’d watch out for you, and I will.”

“He just wants you to watch Ray.”

He heard her frustration, and he understood it. “Keith didn’t hide the fact he doesn’t like your boyfriend, but I don’t know Ray, so I can’t say what kind of person he is or isn’t. I like to form my own opinions about people. He’s not why I’m here, though.”

“He’s not?” That pissed-off look came back when she thought he was referring to him being her babysitter. She was damn cute when she was mad.

“Let me ask you something. Do you know anyone in this city besides Ray?”

She shook her head.

“That’s why I’m here. You need a friend, someone to come to when you need help or just want to shoot the shit.”

“Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”

“I know Keith. You’re his sister. He’s family to me, and so when he asked me to be him while you were here, I agreed.”

“I don’t want…”

He reached over and put a finger to her lips, relishing how soft they felt. “I told you. I’m a keeper.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Always.” He flipped on the radio, and a country song blared out of the speakers.

“Country?”

“Yup.” He turned his attention back to the road. “You a music snob?”

“No, I like country. I just didn’t think it’d be your thing.”

He started belting out the lyrics to Dirt Road Anthem right along with Jason Aldean.

Truth was, he didn’t used to like country, but being around Becca this last year, he’d grown to love it.

Country was her favorite kind of music. Dimitri pretended to hate it, but Mason had caught him jamming out to it on more than one occasion.

“I’m a big fan of your channel,” he blurted and snapped back like he’d just punched himself in the face. Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“You watch my videos?” A real smile broke out across her face, and he felt like he’d been sucker punched. This girl was getting under his skin without even trying.

“Yeah, you’re my go-to for Let’s Play.” Damn, he sounded like some kind of thirteen-year-old fanboy.

But what did he expect? He’d had the biggest crush on her since he found her channel a couple of years ago.

Of course he was acting like a thirteen-year-old around her.

Fucking Keith hadn’t even warned him. Maybe if he’d had time to prepare, he wouldn’t be sounding like a fucking virgin fumbling on the big night.

Get your shit together, Mase.

“Keith never told me you liked the show.” She kicked her flip flops off and tucked her feet under her knees, turning to face him.

He didn’t say a word about her putting her feet on the seats.

Usually, he bitched out anyone who dared, but she looked so cute sitting there, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Yeah, well, Keith never told me his sister was JoJo either.” Fucking Keith. His ass was grass.

She laughed. “He doesn’t usually tell people.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not just anyone.”

She quirked an eyebrow in question.

“I talk about your show all the time. He knows I’m a fan. Fucker never said a word.”

Her laughter filled the truck. “He talks about your show.”

“What?” His eyes widened. Keith told her about his show? Jo had over two million subscribers, while he barely scraped together a little over a hundred thousand.

“I checked it out.”

His head snapped around to stare at her.

“Once.”

His ego deflated like a burst balloon. Once. She’d watched it once.

“You’re funny.”

Once.

Shit.

Here he was, gushing like some damn woman, and she’d only seen his channel once. Fuck.

“Thanks.” He turned into the campus and drove straight to the bookstore.

“Why are there no pictures of you on his Instagram or Facebook?” That was where he was having a problem. Not that he really paid attention to Keith’s family photos, but he’d have paid attention to Jo.

“He used to have them on there until he started getting badgered with requests to meet me. I told him to delete everything about me and we’d just use FaceTime and texts.”

Well, that made sense.

“What are you majoring in?” she asked as they made their way inside.

“Computer science and engineering with a minor in communications.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” He opened the door for her, not liking her tone at all.

“You just don’t seem like the science kind of guy, is all.”

“Really? What do I seem like?”

She dug her schedule out and led the way into the rows of books. When she didn’t answer him, he got irritated, something that almost never happened. He refused to let anything get to him. Life was too short to go around angry.

“Josephine, what do I seem like?”

Her blue eyes twinkled when they met his. “A flirt, a comedian, maybe a football jock, and definitely a frat boy.”

Jo worked hard to keep the smile off her face when his eyes narrowed. He was hard not to like. She understood how he and her brother became best friends overnight. He just had that kind of personality. She wanted to be pissed at him, but she couldn’t.

“Busted.” He flashed her another one of those megawatt smiles designed to melt the panties right off a girl. “I am all of those things, though I don’t play football anymore.”

“Hey, Mason!”

They turned to see several girls a few feet away, eyeing Mason like he was man candy. Well, he was, but still. Women shouldn’t ogle him like he was. They should do it from a distance. Have some class about it.

“Ladies.” He nodded and smiled at them. She didn’t see a spark of recognition in his eyes. “Y’all are looking mighty fine. Coming by the house tonight? Big party going on.”

“Of course,” the most brazen of the lot said. Stick figure Barbie wannabe. Her makeup was so thick, Jo wondered if she had any real skin left under it. “I’ll look for you.”

Mason winked at them. “See you there.” When he turned back to Jo, the grin slipped from his face. He pulled out his own schedule, and they started searching for books in earnest.

As they worked their way through the bookstore, more and more people stopped Mason to talk.

He seemed to be very popular. He had an easy smile for them all, but she saw the impatience glittering beneath the surface.

He seemed irritated at the attention, which didn’t fit the persona she’d tacked onto him over the last two hours.

All the traffic stops by way of his friends had kept them at the bookstore longer than she’d expected.

Jo had a feeling there was more to him than the easygoing, laidback guy he let people see.

“You got everything?” he asked when he finally managed to slip away from the last of them.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s roll, babe. I got shit to do today.”

“I didn’t ask you to bring me.” He sounded angry he’d had to bring her when he was the one who’d all but ordered her to come with him. Asshole.

“No, I volunteered myself as your personal chauffeur for the day.” He shot her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound grumpy. I got a lot to do before the party at the frat tonight. Sleeping until noon doesn’t help either.”

Jo hefted her books and started to walk in front of him, but she stumbled over her own feet and flew forward, her books flying every which way. She closed her eyes, embarrassed at the snickers and outright laughs. Why, oh, why, did she have to be so clumsy?

Strong hands hauled her up, and she groaned, knowing her face must be flaming red.

“You okay?” Mason asked, concerned as he gathered her books.

“Fine.” She tried to take her books from him, but he shook his head.

“Nope. You are hazardous to their health.”

Jo sputtered, angry and embarrassed all over again.

“Come on.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hauled her to the checkout line. “Let’s get you checked out before you kill yourself.”

“I’m not that bad.” She had to go and embarrass herself in front of him, didn’t she?

“Whatever you say, darlin’.”

They checked out and walked back to the truck.

Mason took her books from her the second she paid for them.

They were heavy, but so were his. As embarrassed as she felt, it was kind of nice.

She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone carry things for her.

Ray stopped a few months after they got together in high school.

“Why don’t you and Ray come to the frat party tonight?” Mason asked once they were back on the road.

“We have dinner with his parents tonight.” Something she wasn’t looking forward to.

“Come after. These things run all night.”

“I’ve never been to a frat party before,” she confessed. She’d wanted to say yes the second he’d asked her to go, but Ray wouldn’t want to.

“Why the hell not?”

“Ray never wanted to go to any, so…”

Mason shook his head. “Well, invitation’s open. Come if you want. They’re a hell of a lot of fun.”

The rest of the drive home was silent. She snuck a few glances at Mason. He looked deep in thought. His scent wafted over to her, a mixture of leather and something else she couldn’t identify, but she liked it.

He was Ray’s polar opposite. Tall, muscled…ripped with a six-pack she saw through his skintight t-shirt. Mason worked out. You couldn’t get that kind of body—or at least keep it—if you didn’t. In every photo she’d ever seen of him, he was smiling, his eyes laughing. He was the same in person.

She was startled when the engine cut off. Looking up, she saw they were at her place. His smile was back when he got out and reached into the truck bed to retrieve her bags full of books. “Meet me for breakfast on Monday?”

“Mason…”

He shushed her again. “Nope, FIBB, remember? It’s a requirement to come eat with me when I ask you to.”

She wanted to say no. She should say no, but there was something about the hopeful way he grinned. “Fine. Where?”

“Mae’s Diner. Best breakfast place around. It’s across the street from the admin office at school.”

“What time?”

“What time is your first class?”

“Eight.”

He looked so horrified, she laughed. “What the fuck you getting up that early for?”

“Because it’s the time my class starts?”

He blanched. “My first class doesn’t start before ten. You trying to kill me, getting me up at the butt crack of dawn?”

“We don’t have to go to breakfast.”

He scrunched his nose. “Fine. I’ll be waiting for you at seven.”

“I’ll check the bus route to make sure there’s one that runs by here at that time or grab a cab.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that? Don’t you have a car?”

“No. The one car we have is Ray’s and he needs it for work.”

“He can drop you off, then.”

She shook her head. Ray would not drop her off. “The school is in the opposite direction he goes.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You don’t put your woman on a public bus or cab in a city as dangerous as New York.” Now he looked beyond pissed.

“Mason…”

“You planning on always taking the bus or a cab to and from school?”

“Well, yeah.” That only pissed him off more.

“No, you’re not. I’ll swing by and pick you up. Take you to and from school too.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Yeah, Josephine, I do.” His eyes hardened. “You ain’t getting raped or killed on my watch. So just say, ‘Thank you, Mason.’”

Arguing wasn’t going to get her out of this. He’d made up his mind. “Thank you, Mason.”

He walked her up the front porch and kept a watchful eye on her. Probably scared she’d fall again. He put her bags down beside the door. “Pick you up at six-thirty on Monday.”

She watched him walk back down the drive, get in the truck, and pull away.

What had she just gotten herself into?