“Little devil. You’re hard to find.”

A shiver runs through me as his breath moves against my hair. I turn my head, then tilt it back.

Mason moves to stand beside me. I fight the urge to grab his face and molest him.

It’s a struggle.

I wet my lips. “Hey, hi. Did you just get here?”

Obviously, I already know the answer to this question. Way to act like you haven’t been watching for him, Brooke.

He smiles and slowly sinks onto the stool next to me. “I did. Class ran over a bit. I had to shower, find the place. Why are you over here and not with your mates?”

I risk a glance in their direction.

Juls waves. Dylan smiles from her seat.

Oh, my God. Is Joey seriously videoing this with his phone?

“It was a bit crowded.” I swivel on my stool so that Mason’s body completely shields mine. “And I was trying to avoid this guy who has a tendency to stalk. You might know him. He’s Australian too.”

He pulls his shoulders back and looks around the bar. “Yeah? Point this wanker out. I’ll take care of him. Unless he’s a big fella. If that’s the case, I’ll sneak you out the back.”

I laugh as the bartender sets my glass down in front of me.

It’s a tall, skinny beverage. Something blended, with red and white slush swirling together and a pineapple wedge tucked on the rim.

“That’s fancy lookin’.”

I nod at Mason’s observation as my hand closes around the chilled glass. I take a sip. Very tropical.

“So, was the turn-out for class today as ridiculous as last night?”

“You thought it was ridiculous?” His mouth pulls tight. He looks adorably puzzled.

“Women were lined up outside like you were handing out free orgasms.” I give him a cheeky grin. “Clearly, you weren’t. Unless that service was offered to everyone except me.”

His face softens with a smile. “Nah, that’s the Brooke special. It comes with dinners and private lessons. Spending time together. Friendship.”

“Friendship? You want to be my friend?”

“Yeah.”

“And you want to sleep with me?”

“I want everything,” he states negligently. “Friendship is a part of it. Why wouldn’t it be?”

I shrug. My eyes fixate on the bar.

This glorious specimen of a man also wants a friendship out of this. How . . . strange.

“Are you drinking?” I ask, desperate for a subject change.

Feelings. Friendship. More.

He needs alcohol.

I glance back up to catch the quick shake of his head.

“I’m all right.”

“You came to a bar and you’re not going to drink?”

He stares at me, his eyes slowly moving over my face, then down the line of my body. “You look lovely, Brooke. Stunning, really. Has any man told you that today?”

“Um . . .” I inhale a shaky breath. “Today? No. Not today.”

“Shame. I should’ve said something earlier. I was thinking it. In the alley . . . when I came to your work. I couldn’t stop looking at you. I still can’t.”

“In the alley.” I clear my throat. Hair clings to the base of my neck. I’m burning up. “I liked the alley.”

God, I loved the alley.

Mason eyes me for a moment, then reaches out and takes the drink out of my hand. He sets it on the bar and stands, pulling out his wallet. “Go for a ride with me, yeah? I’ll bring you back here. I just . . . I want to talk to you and drive around the city. I’ve been thinking about doing that.” He throws some cash down, tucks his wallet back into his pocket, and grabs my hand.

With a gentle tug, I’m on my feet.

“You’re taller tonight,” he observes, smiling down at my shoes. “I recognize those.”

I grab my clutch off the bar. “And you’re a bit bossy.”

His brow pulls together. He looks charmingly confused.

I fight the urge to smile as I explain. “I never agreed to go for a ride with you. You did that adorable little ‘yeah’ thing and took my drink away. Were you even going to wait for my answer? Maybe I’m not ready to leave. Maybe I want to finish my very coconuty drink and spend some time with my mates. Ever think about that?”

I think he wants to smile. I believe I see a slight twitch in his mouth, but he covers it immediately, or I’m simply imagining things.

Am I not as funny as I think I am?

“I’m sorry.” He drops my hand. His eyes roam the room. “Right. That was a bit bossy of me. Would you rather we stay here? I thought a drive would be nice. I’ll be able to hear you better. I’d like to hear you.”

A strange tightness pulls at my chest.

Shit. Even in his high-handedness, his intentions are sweet.

“It’s fine. We can . . .”

A body bumps against my back. I brace myself with a hand to Mason’s chest to keep myself from falling. His grip holds tight on my waist, tighter as I slowly lift my head to look at him. I turn to get a glance at the creep who shoved me into this tall piece of manly deliciousness.

I should thank them.

Paul sways on his feet behind me. He’s clearly intoxicated.

Whatever. I don’t hold any ill-will toward any of the men I’ve slept with. I’m sure him knocking into me was purely accidental. No doubt brought on by the alcohol. Look at him. He can barely stand.