Page 60 of Hidden Resolution

He needed a decent night’s sleep, and those only seemed to happen when he cuddled her close. He shouldn’t be opposed to using classic romantic tools to grovel, right?

Fuuuccckkkkk!

At least Zack and Dane weren’t bearing witness to his vacillating back and forth. He’d never hear the end of it.

Resolved to see Shonda, Mason hurried to his office, shut off his computer, and stepped into the reception area.

Dane was reclined with his feet up on the desk, a magazine in hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mason asked irritably.

“Waiting for you to come to your senses and take your smokin’-hot girlfriend to dinner,” Dane replied, not bothering to look up from whatever held his attention.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he snapped.

For the longest minute, his brother stared, his expression indecipherable, before shrugging and perusing his magazine.

“She’s not!” Mason insisted, feeling weighed and wanting.

“Then you won’t be bothered by her going to dinner with Tommy tonight.”

Mason ground his teeth against the stinging sense of betrayal. Theirs was a goddamned fling. So what if she moved on first?

“Over my dead body,” he ground out.

Yes, he’d struggled to hold his response back, failing spectacularly. But fuck it.

Dane’s laughter followed him to the door.

Mason stormed back.“What?”

“You’re in denial, bro. Besides, Tommy’s over by the free weights.”

Mason’s gaze shot to the mirrored wall behind Dane to ascertain the truth.

Sure enough, Tommy was at the start of a workout. One Mason had designed for him.

The tension eased from his shoulders, but his desire to strike Dane was overpowering.

“You’re adickhead.”

“And you’re an asshat,” Dane countered with the bird and a mocking grin. “We all have our cross to bear.”

Since the urgency to stop Shonda from dating Tommy was gone, Mason rested his elbows against the counter and relaxed. “Why’d you lie?”

“It was only a half lie. Shondaisat home getting ready to go out.” Dane’s smile was pure evil.

Straightening, Mason glared. “With who?”

“Me.”

The desire to rearrange his brother’s features was a visceral reaction to his taunt. Rage was eating him up and stealing his ability to reason or be civil.

Dane’s eyes were crinkled with amusement as they watched him. “I played the woe-is-me card. She decided to have pity and keep me from wallowing over my lost love.”

“What lost love?”

Dane’s wicked grin widened.