* Mason *
Mason felt like shit after leaving Clover. Her refusal to have an open office relationship was cutting. He realized they’d only been together a week but wanted everyone to know she was his. He didn’t give a fuck what people thought because frankly; it was his business, and he paid their damn bills.
Oh, hell. Not again!
Tired of fending off Adley every day after work, he let out a frustrated groan, spotting her digging through her purse. The blonde had a habit of always finding a parking spot near his and found mindless reasons to stop and chat. She either wanted his dick or money, but the woman was cruel. He’d listened and watched Adley put Clover down more than once when she hadn’t known he stood nearby.
“Mr. Thistle,” she gushed when he neared, “I forgot my keys. I’m such a ditz when Friday comes. Do you have any plans for tonight? Oh, I overheard Mr. Jarvis speak to Clover about going out? Is there an office thing no one told me about?”
Her mind games exhausted him. “No.”
“Clover sure is taking more time away from the desk lately. I’ve had to do both our jobs. She just doesn’t seem to care about how important it is to—”
“Adley, thanks for all your help but I really must go now.” The urge to tell the nosy bitch the reason Clover took longer breaks because he couldn’t keep his hands off of her was strong, but said instead, “Have a nice weekend.”
She flipped her hair with a big, fake smile, “Of course. I’m here for anything you need.”
He turned dismissively, finally making it to the car. After entering the bar Clover loved ten minutes later, he understood why. It had a laid-back vibe, tables, and booths situated far enough apart for intimate gatherings. A few patrons were on the small dance floor swaying to music coming from a jukebox. The perfect place to unwind on a Friday night, and he looked forward to holding his girl out there.
Bentley waved him over to the booth already littered with empty bottles, “Where’s Clover?”
He loosened his tie with a huff, “She’s a perfectionist, has to make sure everything is ready for Monday. It’s what I appreciate most about Clover. She takes care of shit without asking.”
He pushed a beer in his direction, “Cheers to that.”
Mason clinked his bottle, taking a long pull, “When are you leaving?”
“Why? Are you going to miss me? Cry a few tears?”
He chuckled, letting his gaze roam the dimly lit space. “You’ll be back. I’ll save my tears for when Clover realizes what an asshole I am and leaves my ass.”
“That will probably happen soon.”
“Fuck you asshole,” Mason glared good naturally, then downed the rest of his beer hoping Clover left work without encountering Adley.
The door opened, and he sat up straighter seeing red hair, only it wasn’t his red-haired vixen but a petite thing with wide blue eyes. The girl appeared nervous as she sauntered over. He glanced at Bentley, who winked before addressing her.
“Reese,” he held up a hand, waving for her to sit, “Meet Mason. Mason, Reese.”
Mason smiled politely, thinking she looked far too young to drink, “Hello.”
She licked her lips, then shot them a dazzling smile that lit up her face but didn’t reach her sad eyes. Something felt off. He tried to catch his friend’s attention, but Bentley ignored them as he took out his phone and began texting.
“Wonderful to meet you, Mason,” she said sweetly, sitting beside him in the booth, “Bentley told me you two have been friends for a long time.”
Bentley stood from the other end saying, “I have to take a call. Order whatever you want, Reese.”
She giggled, telling the waitress she wanted a Red Headed Slut. Mason suddenly felt drowsy. Maybe he’d overdone it this week, needing an early night. He missed holding Clover while they slept since his meetings ran late and he hadn’t popped in to see her after she offered an open invitation to her place. He hoped she would take him home and let him crash tonight because she gave him the best night’s sleep he’d had in years.
“I’m not his friend,” Reese’s saccharine voice turned low, so he leaned in to hear her better, “I had to come here and talk to you.”
Mason frowned, noticing how close she sat, “Why?”
She placed her hand on the inside of his thigh and he jumped at the contact, “You’re so hot. Nice, too. I bet you could help me.” He grabbed her arm, placing it on her lap when she brazenly cupped his junk, “Say you’ll save me, Mason.”
Fuck, what’s happening?
With a brain full of wool asked in concern, “You need help? I have a girlfriend.”
Reese bit her lip, letting out a sigh, “Don’t do that. He’ll get mad if he doesn’t think I can do this.”
Mason rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what this girl was going on about. She kept touching him and although he only wanted Clover, the fingers trailing up and down his pant leg made his dick twitch. He inhaled a deep breath to clear his thoughts right before Reese’s lips pressed to his, her arms latching onto his shoulders.
When her tongue invaded his mouth, jerked backward, falling further into the booth, ”What the fuck?”
Reese bolted, and he collapsed in the seat, wondering where Clover was before passing out cold.
* Clover *
Clover felt disconnected from her body when she came to. When she rolled onto her back, soft sheets whispered under her touch. She peeled her eyelids open bit by bit, realizing she didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there.
She blinked several times, peering to the right where Brad sat in a chair. What the hell was Brad doing here? She ran a heavy hand over her face, tongue glued to the top of her mouth when she tried to ask what was going on.
“Hold on,” he left and returned with water which he helped her drink, “You passed out in my car before giving me directions to your place so I brought you to mine.”
She groaned, “Not possible.”
He chuckled, setting the glass down on a side table. The masculine pieces of furniture were unknown to her and with a start realized she slept in his bed, flushing in bashfulness. Then she recalled Mason kissing another woman, turning a deeper shade of red in anger.
“Whoa, you okay?”
She closed her eyes in confusion, “Not even a little. Thank God you showed. I have no idea what happened.”
He perched on the corner of the mattress with a shrug, “You must have drunk too much. I wouldn’t recommend sleeping in the street next time.”
She sought to tame her wild hair by running shaking fingers through the tresses, “I only had one drink... I think. The entire night’s blurry. So... this is your apartment?”
He smirked, “Yup. Don’t worry, you can have the bed. I wanted to make sure you didn’t get sick before turning in.”
“What time is it?”
“After midnight,” he stood to walk to the dresser across the room, “Want to wear one of my shirts? I’ll take you to the bar in the morning for your car.”
Confused and groggy, she gave him a grateful smile, “Yeah, thank you. Wow, I feel like crap.”
He placed a plain white undershirt beside her, “Don’t sweat it. Need something for your head?”
“No,” she yawned, “Just sleep. Again, thanks so much. My hero.”
He beamed, “Any time, beautiful.”
She blushed, and after he nodded awkwardly in goodbye slipped out of her work clothes, pulling on the shirt, noting it smelt like fresh flowers. Laying down, she quickly fell asleep.
Clover didn’t know how much time passed or what woke her but felt better when she did. It was still dark out judging by the half-closed curtains of a window by the chair Brad occupied earlier.
A thump came from somewhere in the apartment.
“Brad?” she called, sitting up.
Another loud thud and muffled yelp sounded when she crept into the hallway, hoping Brad fell off of his couch or something, but the way her night had gone since leaving work caused her to freak out. The hair rose on the back of her neck when she came to her senses. She closed the bedroom door, searching for a lock just in case. There was the flimsy push-button kind, and the snick of it did little to reassure her.
Clover retreated from the door, her heart beating so hard the whoosh in her ears deafening in the eerie silence. She wanted to shout out to Brad, but since there were no longer any noises coming from the other side, she kept her mouth shut.
Maybe she was being paranoid? She hoped so, but what if someone broke inside?
What if Brad’s hurt?
She bit her lip, a million reasons why she should stay put running through her mind. What if he needed her? She glanced around the room, hunting for her phone, spotting her purse on top of the dresser.
Clover screamed when the door kicked inward and two black-clothed figures attacked. The air in her lungs rushed outward when one punched her in the stomach, making her fall to her knees before a wet rag covered her face.
This isn’t happening!
“Relax, love.” The last words she heard before falling unconscious.
* TO BE CONTINUED *
Click on Love meets You (Part 2) for the exciting conclusion!
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