There were two things I was sure of that morning.
One: I had definitely put my favorite gray sweatpants in the dryer last night.
Two: My stepbrother, Mason Blake, was an absolute menace.
“Where the hell…” I muttered, digging through the warm dryer again, tossing aside shirts and socks. Nope. No pants. No trace. Just a whole lot of nothing.
I slammed the dryer door shut and stormed out of the laundry room in a tank top that barely covered my ass and a pair of bright pink panties I hadn’t planned on showing to anyone.
Too bad my stepbrother didn’t count as “anyone.”
“Mason!” I shouted, marching down the hall, heart pounding from both fury and… something else I refused to name.
I threw open his bedroom door without knocking, and what I saw made me freeze—and made my thighs clench invol
