I knew it was a game. Damn but a good game it was for as long as it lasted.
"Let me go." I whisper.
He stares at me. His face turning so cold. "Fine." He says letting up on the grip of my arm.
"I'm done playing this game."
...
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There's only so much my mind can take and it seems to only take Mason. I have become infatuated with him and our almost. It's a scary feeling knowing I would do just about anything for him and not bat an eye while doing it. Someone could ask me a million times, why? And I would simply stare at them like they were a long forgotten memory. Maybe it will end up taking my whole life to understand why he has me in this hold yet there's also the chance that even if I waited an eternity for the answer it would never show. I'm overwhelmed by the bipolar feeling that floats inside my chest.
Do I like him or is it simply something more?
My thoughts are sprawled out spider webs, begging to be left alone but also hoping for the comfort of someone inside them.
My finger taps on the glass of the conference table as I watch Mason's mouth move. I know he's speaking but I can only hope not directly to me. My eyes suddenly become heavy as my mind trails off to our sexcade last week. Corporate would have my ass in my mouth if they found out I liked to get fucked by the CEO.
"... how does that feel?" My insides turn upside down.
"Ah— what?" I say as a hand covers my mouth apologetically.
Mason leans on the glass, his eyes dark and hot. "I said, how does that sound Ms. White?" Oh God, send an asteroid towards us right now.
I fumbled with the ends of my hair. "Good. Sounds great." I look away from his hypnotic gaze and write nonsense words on the notepad in front of me.
Another business man and woman whisper something to one another about my behavior. It instantly makes my cheeks flush a bright red due to embarrassment.
I turn my face to the side slightly to see Mason's jaw clenched. "Do one of you bastards have something to say about my assistant? If so then you can say it to my face." He raises his eyebrows at the table. "No? That's what I thought." Mason flashes me a stupid look filled with sympathy.
I decided it was best if I kept my head down and focused on writing notes about the meeting. Mason talked about the product launch on New Year's Eve and how we're back on track for the launch date. It's amazing to see how serious people get about these types of things. Like their whole entire career is in the hands of the very unfortunate world that has all of the power to tear right into their flesh.
When the meeting finished all of the people flooded out the doors except me and Mason. I fixed my shirt and pushed myself from the chair. I started to pick up the leftover papers that people didn't have the decency to take with them.
The air around us was a thick suffocating cloud.
I groaned as I saw a spill of dark black coffee on the glass table. I turned around to grab some napkins but came into contact with Mason's toned chest. His hands automatically found my waist. My eyes fluttered up to his. It's painful sometimes when I look at him, and he looks back at me, and I swear I can see something inside them. Like a tiny star that hints at something more, like a feeling he can't quite bring out of his chest. I think the glimmer of something more is my false hope, enchanting me to believe that we both have the same feeling for one another.
