Page 293 of Playing Dirty

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That’s it? “Good”?

I stopped walking for a second.

Yeah.

That did sound stupid.

Mason:

You got home safe.

That’s the point.

Typing bubbles.

Longer thistime.

Rowan:

You’re weird.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Mason:

Heard that before.

ROWAN

Serena was already waiting for me when I got back.

Not literally waiting.

But emotionally? Absolutely.

She was on my bed, scrolling my laptop like she paid rent.

“You made it home alive,” she said.

“Thanks for the dramatic greeting.”

“You have a problem.”

“I have many problems.”

She turned the screen toward me.

My search history was open.

New York internship requirements.

Mason Reed stats.

Mason Reed interviews.

I froze.

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