Fallen Crest Public(88)

She really had no idea what she was getting herself into.
When I was discharged and being wheeled out of the hospital, I felt like I was part of a Brady Bunch sort-of family. All eyes were on us as we left, but most of the nurses waved to Mason and Logan. David was shaking his head when all six of us got to the parking lot. Mason had pulled his Escalade up to the circle, and I was loaded into it. Logan hopped into Mark’s car. As everyone followed behind David’s Luxury SUV, which I assumed was owned by Malinda, Mason said that Mark and Logan were going to a party that night.
Malinda’s house was a massive log home. Logan was shown to his bedroom, which was a guest bedroom in the basement, and we were shown our room. It was tucked into a back section of the house on the main floor, so it felt like we had our own wing. Mason had packed a few bags for me, and as he dropped them on the bed, Malinda chuckled at us. “You two are like a married couple.”
Uh … I pointed to my head. “Heavy meds here. Say that again?”
She rolled her eyes. “You heard me just fine. So did you,” she threw to Mason. Then she gestured to the door across the hallway. “That’s your bathroom. Your father wanted you upstairs in case you needed something during the night.” Her gaze lingered on Mason. “But I reminded him that you’re not a single package anymore; that you come with a plus-one, whether he likes it or not.”
“Thanks for that,” Mason murmured, leaning against the far wall. He stuffed his hands into his front pockets, which moved his jeans down an inch. As he hunched his shoulders forward, it gave him a longer and leaner look. The tops of his black boxer briefs were visible now, and I could see a hint of his oblique muscles underneath.
I licked my lips. If only … Desire spread through me. When his jeans moved another inch lower, my body felt engulfed in flames. It was like a drop of gasoline had been added to a fire.
Malinda chuckled behind me. “I recognize that look. You got the good meds, for sure.”
I was burning up. “Can we open a window?”
Mason frowned. “What?”
“He says what.” She chuckled some more before stepping into the hallway. “When you get an ice pack on those loins, join us downstairs. We got couches, blankets, movies, pop, whatever you need.”
Why?
Mason said it for me, looking equally confused.
“Saturday family night.” Her eyebrows arched high. “Don’t you two know what family night means?”
We were both silent.
She snorted. “It’s a night you spend with family. Forget any plans you two might have had for canoodling. You’re in my home, and you have to endure the torture. Sorry, Sam. They said you have a mild dislocated jaw, but I got lots of liquids and soft foods for you. Yogurt. Applesauce. The good stuff, but the rest are going to be forced to eat popcorn, pizza, chips, and tacos. You name it, they have to shovel it in. Bahahaha.” She left, her laugh eerily close to an evil witch’s.
“What just happened?” Crap. I winced from pain. I’d been talking too much.
“Mark’s mom is nuts.”
I gave him a pointed look. Did he not know who he was talking to?
Mason shrugged. “So’s your mom, but this one … she seems nice and … genuine. I don’t like it.”
That earned a snort from me. A mother who was genuine and nice? It made perfect sense why he wouldn’t like it. I’m not sure I liked it either.
He gestured out the window beside him. “Did you know Mark lived down the block from my dad’s?”
I had forgotten, but now I wished I hadn’t remembered.
“Yo. Mark’s mom is hilarious. She just told me she’s Queen Royale of Bitch.” Logan appeared in the doorway and flashed a grin. Holding onto the doorframe from the top, he leaned forward, laughing at the same time. “You see how close we are to Dad’s?”