Mason’s POV
The aftermath of the kiss still hung between us, but the tension was building. Elle sat on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the sheets, eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t ready to give.
“Tell me what’s going on, Mason,” she said, her voice quiet but insistent. The softness from earlier had faded. There was a fire in her eyes now, one I knew too well.
I clenched my fists, turning away from her. I couldn’t look at her—not right now. “I told you, I’m handling it.”
She stood up, her footsteps light but the weight of her presence heavy. “Handling what, Mason?” Her voice was louder now, frustration edging into every word. “You’ve been acting like this for days—like there’s something going on that I’m not a part of!”
I rubbed my temples, trying to keep my cool. But
