(MASON'S POV)
When he finally set the bowl and towel aside, he didn't rush or fidget or do anything awkward the way normal people would. He just… looked at me.
Like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.
And there it was again—that smile. Soft, a little crooked, and way too powerful for something so simple. Honestly, it should come with a warning label. 'Caution: may cause sudden loss of motor function.' Because my knees still went weak—and I was already lying flat on my back. Which felt like overkill at that point.
Completely unfair.
"I can practically hear your brain overheating," he said, voice low and amused, like he was enjoying this way too much. His fingers brushed a strand of hair off my forehead, slow and careful, like he had all the time in the world. Like I was something delicate. Something worth being gentle with.
That alone should've been illegal.
"Go on," he added, quieter this time, his gaze not leaving mine. "Ask me anything. No secrets tonight."
