I slow-nod approvingly, stifling a snicker. “Barbiecore. I like.” He immediately starts making excuses. “Well, when I left town, my four sisters moved in and then—” Grinning, I press a finger to his lips. I don’t wanna hear it. “Own it, Mason. Own it.” He chomps down on my finger with his teeth. “You know what, Karli Brighton? I am sick of your snark. I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight.” “On your pink bed sheets? All right. As long as we don’t get glitter between my butt cheeks. That stuff is really hard to wash out.” Sorry. I can’t resist teasing him. Mason growls. Uh-oh. I’m in trouble.
