95

95

Bethany's POV

I was halfway through the hallway when I heard the soft giggle, the telltale rustling of sheets, the low murmur of Mason's voice, smug and full of himself. I didn't even need to open the door to know what was happening inside.

I should have walked away.

But I didn't.

Instead, I turned the knob and pushed the door open with an ease that surprised even me.

The sight wasn't shocking. Not anymore.

Mason lay sprawled across the bed, sheets pooled at his waist, his bare chest gleaming with sweat. The woman—some blonde with a face too delicate for her own good—was half-naked beside him, her legs tangled with his. The moment she spotted me, she gasped and yanked the sheets up to cover herself, as if she had any dignity left to protect.

Mason, on the other hand, didn't so much as flinch.