Grayson stared at his phone. Then he opened the file his assistant had sent. The first thing on screen was a photo of a ridiculously muscular man who looked like a Greek god… with an attribute that was clearly not standard issue.

Grayson's eyes went wide.

"Nine inches…" he whispered, horrified. "Nine?! What is this?! A baseball bat?!"

Mason lifted his gaze from the sofa, curious. Grayson was so absorbed in the cursed biography of the porn star that he did not notice his friend walk up behind him.

"What are you looking at with that face?"

Grayson jolted and hugged the phone to his chest like he had been caught watching porn in church.

"Nothing. Work. Boring stuff. Mind your own business and inhale through your nose."

Mason obviously did not listen.

"Work, huh?" he dragged out the word with maximum suspicion. "Since when does work leave you pale, sweating, and on the verge of fainting?"

Grayson tried to turn away, but Mason was already too close. Despite Grayson's attemp