Page 85 of Fallen Hero

“I have an irrational aversion to feeling beholden to someone. My father and Tom had this relationship where each of them felt obligated to the other. Neither of them actually respected or cared about the other. It was a circle of debt. My father provided intel to Tom. Tom kept my family safe. My father saved Tom’s life. Tom offered more protection. The circle was never ending—or it should’ve ended when my father died, but instead I stupidly jumped on the merry-go-round.”

I should’ve found a way to take out Jason without Tom’s involvement. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, and at the time, I’d been blinded by grief and anger.

Hard green eyes held me captive when he asked, “Is that what you feel, Calista? Indebted to me and my team?”

Instead of telling him what I knew he wanted to hear, I searched my feelings. Did I feel indebted to Mason? Was that why I was so drawn to him? Because he’d shown up for me, twice now, to have my back when no one else did?

That couldn’t be it. I didn’t feel the same connection to Pete, and he was there.

“No,” I finally answered. “I feel grateful but not beholden. I feel linked to you but not obligated.”

I saw the tension bleed from his features, but more than that, I saw relief sweep over him.

“It’s late, Calli. You should get some sleep.”

It was well after midnight, and I was exhausted, but I wasn’t ready to go back to my room and climb into an empty bed, ending Calli and Mase time.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“Out here. Gavin took my bed.”

It was a warm evening. Sleeping on the lounger wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but still, I didn’t want him spending the night out on the balcony.

“We can share my bed,” I offered.

Mason’s smile was quick, but it morphed into a smirk just as fast.

“Not sure either of us would get much sleep if we shared your bed.”

One could hope that was the case.

I shrugged, uncaring my robe gapped open at the movement. At this point he’d seen my breasts, sucked and licked and left his mark of ownership. My thighs clenched at the memory. I dared not look, but I wondered if the beard burn was visible. I hoped so. I wanted to see it again in the morning when I got dressed.

Mason’s groan cut through my thoughts.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Mason stood and offered his hand.

I stared at his calloused palm that had touched nearly every inch of me. Maybe not every inch, but all the important ones. But it wasn’t the memories of what he could do with those long, thick, magical fingers that had me captivated. Something about this moment felt different, life altering, and not in a give-up-my-V-card kind of way. As if by taking Mason’s hand, he’d change the course of my entire future.

“Calli?” he called. “If you’ve changed—”

Before the moment slipped away, I reached up and grabbed Mason’s hand.

When his fingers curled tightly around my hand, I knew I’d made the right decision.

Chapter Twenty

“Is this okay?” Calli whispered.

Was it okay she’d rolled into me as soon as we got into bed and rested her cheek on my chest? Ten years ago and with any other woman, I would’ve stopped the progress before she’d made it to my side of the bed. But Calista wasn’t any other woman. The reason still escaped me, but it couldn’t be denied there was something there.

I curled my arm tighter and answered in the same soft tone she’d used. “Yeah, baby.”

Calli relaxed into me before I could get a lock on exactly why the feel of her pressed close calmed my mind, while at the same made my heart rate kick up.