Hannah stared at the ceiling and listened to the beat of Mason's heart. She still couldn't think straight. Or at all, really. They'd somehow made it to the bed, and here they were.
"You want some water or something?" Mason's voice rumbled against her ear.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you."
"Okay." He squeezed her and she felt his lips brush the top of her head.
She'd finally seen the Mason she remembered again, the one she'd coaxed out of that grumbling bear of a man she'd first met. He could be funny and sweet, a bit stubborn, but she liked him. He was a good man. And in another set of circumstances he could be more than that for her. But not Mason. Not now. And that was an ache, a desire, she'd carry with her for a long time. She might not be well-versed in love or s*x, but her gut told her
