Page 39 of Power Play Daddies

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been trying to track this guy down for months. He’s got a vintage Leica I’ve been dying to get my hands on.”

I nod, not entirely sure what that means, but understanding enough. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

I wave him off. “Kieran, I’m having the time of my life. I can handle myself.”

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. “Be right back.”

I watch him jog off, his broad shoulders disappearing into the crowd. The guys are still surfing, and a few more have started a volleyball game nearby. I snap a picture of them, laughing as one of them trips over his own feet.

Logan’s name pops up on my screen, and I send him the picture with a string of emojis. He replies almost instantly:Wet emojis. Classic.

I’m still laughing when someone flops down beside me, a shadow blocking the sun.

“Daisy.”

I freeze, the voice familiar and unwelcome. Turning my head, I’m met with Mason’s dark brown eyes.

“What do you want?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intended.

He holds up two ice cream bars, offering me one. “Do you want one?”

I stand, brushing the sand off my thighs. “I’m good.”

“Daisy—”

I don’t let him finish. Walking toward the water, I try to shake off the anger bubbling in my chest.

The fucking audacity of him, acting like he can just sit down and talk to me after the conversation I overheard between him and Beau.

The waves lap at my feet, cool and calming. I breathe in the salty air, trying to push Mason from my mind.

The beach is still loud, still bright, but for a moment, it’s just me and the water.

I wade through the warm ocean water, my fingers skimming the surface. The beach buzzes with activity—kids screaming,music blasting from a nearby group, waves crashing softly against the shore.

It’s all vibrant, alive. But my head’s too busy replaying that stupid locker room conversation to enjoy any of it.

Then I bump into someone—hard.

“Oh!” I take a step back, wiping the saltwater from my eyes. My stomach flips when I see who it is.

Of course, it’s Mason.

“Are you fucking following me?”

His dark eyes lock on mine, a hint of confusion creasing his face. “Daisy?”

I cross my arms. “Before you even ask, the answer is no. I’m not a fucking plaything, okay?”

His brows shoot up, and he runs a hand through his tousled black hair. For a second, my gaze drops, catching a faint bruise on his knuckles.

“Did I do something to offend you?” His voice is calm, careful. “All I did was offer you a treat earlier.”

I scoff. “A treat? Like I’m a goddamn pet. God, you’re unbelievable.” I turn to wade away, ready to put as much distance as possible between us.