phocbe:
by manic instinct, phoebe clasps a hand over masonâs mouth and casts a wary glance at the barely-subtle bodyguards shadowing her. â not that what you said isnât true, but donât let talk like that get around to my father or else the label contacts disappear. â mr. harvey knew of his daughterâs exploits, but the enablers had usually been faceless to himâ- she kept it that way, for their own sake. she retracts her hand and allows it to fall over his chest, â i was teasing, mason. besides, if you are turning down a bump right now, then maybe you have gone soft on me. â
heâs not sure whether itâs the palm smacking over his mouth or the bite of her words that draws a flinch from hunched shoulders, wide hues walking the trail that her own eyes had blazed. the moment her hand droops, heâs sucking a lesser lip between his teeth. âsurely daddyâs hearing isnât so keen that he would have heard that. bâsides, arenât you going to go to bat for me when we inevitably get caught?â masonâs careful to move away from her, a thin smile curling his lips. âonly if i get to snort it off of something other than a table. â











