Mason takes a slow lick of his ice cream cone, lapping up the side where it’s started to melt. “So, that little peace treaty of ours—which clause deals with that awkward moment when we see each other in public?” My head snaps up, and I glare at his stupid, pretty face. He’s wearing a smirk so subtle that I’m wondering if I’m the only one to notice. I fold my arms across my chest. “I didn’t see you.” He eyeballs me incredulously. “Liar…”
