I blinked at him to realize he’d ushered me into the dimly lit kitchen. Instead of a colorful sunset, I saw a stack of dirty dishes sitting by the sink. Mason was most definitely not shirtless—grr—and the cup he thrust at me was full of drab, boring ice water.
Feeling ancient all of the sudden, I eyed the glass without taking it. I couldn’t drink right now if a masked gunman held a pistol to my temple and told me to swallow or die.
My gaze sought Mason’s desperately. I was still terrified for Sarah’s sake. “Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”
He stared at me before shaking his head. Then his lips tilted into a soft smile, and the skin around his eyes crinkled with amusement. “You know, your eyes look really big and blue when you’ve been crying.”
My mouth fell open. “How can you possi
