CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I heard raised voices when I got out of the shower and ran downstairs. My body was tired. Actually, my heart was tired. But when I heard Mason, a jolt of adrenaline burst through me. I grabbed a towel on the way and had it wrapped around me when I skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Mason had his back to me. His shoulders were tense and bunched forward. His hands were in fists at his side, and I knew he was a heartbeat away from a fight. When I took another step down, my eyes widened. Heather stood in front of that guy, the model with tattoos. He was in the doorway and had a similar stance as Mason's, but her hands were braced to his chest. A snarl was on her face until she threw a look over her shoulder and saw me. Her eyes bulged out.

"Chill, Chan. Seriously. There's the evidence, smack dab in a towel. You see her?" She shoved her friend back a step. Then she swung an arm and pointed at me. "He was here for her, not me."

Mason glanced back and bit out a curse. "Sam." He stepped up to block me from view. "Go get some clothes on."

"But," I searched around him.

The guy had visibly relaxed, but Heather was still in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and I knew from the tension in her shoulders that she was glaring at him.

"Go." Mason's hands gripped my hips as he urged me up a step.

"Go with her," Heather spoke over her shoulder.

"Better idea. Let's go."

"What was going on?"

But he wasn't listening. When I didn't move, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me up the stairs. His arm wrapped around the back of my legs and my body kept straight so I watched over his shoulder. Heather glanced at us and shook her head. She rolled her eyes, but the guy said something to her. As she looked back at him, she swatted at his shoulder. And then I couldn't see anymore as Mason stopped at the top of the stairs.

"What happened down there?"

"I'll tell you when you've got some clothes on."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

I'd forgotten about my state of undress. I giggled. And then I really thought about the situation. I had a mini-panic attack, Mason brought me here to regroup and shower, and then I walked in on him about to get into a fight with only a towel on. Goodness. The swift change of events had me feeling light-headed as I sat on Heather's bed.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, still dazed. "I take it that guy didn't like that you were here?"

He grimaced and then sighed. "Where are those clothes? I'll feel better when you're dressed."

"Okay." But I didn't move.

"Seriously?" He raked a hand through his hair, the little he had with his crew cut. His eyes widened and irritation flashed over them. His shirt lifted from the movement. I caught a glimpse of his abdominal muscles, sculpted with perfection. The oblique muscles had been hardened and stuck out as they disappeared under jeans that hung low on his hips.

I licked my lips. God, those muscles. I wanted to touch them. I wanted to—his hand caught mine and he hauled me off the bed and into his arms. I found myself staring into heated eyes, lined with suppressed anger and more. A groan escaped me, and I started to close my eyes as my head bent down. I needed him. His kiss before had sparked the flame, but now it raged inside of me. I couldn't bank it down now.

"Are you two kidding me?"

Heather's voice was like a bucket of cold water being thrown over us. I shoved back from Mason. I would've pulled him down to the bed. Even if he had protested, I knew that I would've made him forget where we were. Goodness. I drew in a gaping breath as I clutched my towel, the only thing covering me still.

I croaked out, "Heather."

She was in the doorway with a fierce frown on her face. Her arms were crossed, but she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I brought your food over here, figured you'd need some grub in you." Then she looked at Mason. "I'm sorry about Channing. He's a bit protective of me, and you're…you…"

He clipped his head in a nod but didn't say a word. As he turned to look out the window, he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"So…" Heather watched me now.

I flushed and grabbed some of her clothes. "I'll put these on and head downstairs."

She waved at me. "Take your time. I wanted to check on you, didn't realize what I'd be walking in on. But whatever. Logan showed up and filled me in on some things. Your friends are all still there so you're going to be dishwasher again tonight. I hope that's okay."

Relief washed over me. I nodded, unable to speak for a moment.

"Frank went home. His wife is coming in. I was going to have you cover a full section tonight, but I get what's going on. Rosa will fill in for you. When things get crazy busy like this, you can go to the back. We'll figure it out as we go. Sound good?"

I nodded again. It sounded perfect.

Her eyes lingered on Mason before she looked back to me. Her concern was evident. "You'll be okay for the night?"

"Yes. I mean it." I did. Determination spread through me. I wasn't going to disrupt anyone else's life because of my issues. "I can sit if I need to in the back."

Mason turned around, now more in control. He said in a soft tone, "I'll help her too."

Heather nodded. "I figured you might want to."

His jaw clenched. His eyes touched on me for a split second, but he turned back for the window. When his tension didn't leave him, I nodded to Heather's unspoken question if he would be alright. She frowned, but left a second later. As soon as she went down the stairs, I shut the door. "What's going on with you?"