Grayson Quinn clinked his glass with Mason Nightshade's, a lazy smile curling at the corner of his mouth as he leaned on the sofa with a hand supporting his chin, asking, "Didn't you come looking for me just to drink?"
Mason Nightshade didn't raise his eyelids, his glass swaying between his elegantly long fingers, his voice faint and hoarse, "I couldn't find any wine to pair with the dishes my wife made, so I figured you'd have it here."
Grayson Quinn's hand froze mid-drink, and he exclaimed, "You're not just here to mooch off my wine, are you?!"
He actually thought Mason was heartbroken, feeling down, and planned to have a great drinking fest tonight to comfort him.
Bah! Wasted my good intentions.
Grayson Quinn realized he truly couldn't empathize with this man. The last time he did, he ended up being deceived himself. They say a woman's appearance can be deceptive, but this man's appearance could mislead too.
