Stay: A Second Chance Badboy Romance

by Melinda Minx

  Her face drains of color. She shakes her head.

  “No?” I ask.

  “No.” She looks down to her lap. “I mean, I wouldn’t be against going, but it is just—it’s kind of stupid, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I wasn’t going to go.”

  “It’s stupid,” Sophie says. “Pay a lot of money to dress up and play pretend for one night? And it’s embarrassing, I wouldn’t want everyone thinking I was trying to be someone I’m not…”

  I lean forward, my elbows digging into the table. I lock eyes with her. “That sounds like...a lack of confidence?”

  She puts both hands up and waves them, dismissing me. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—”

  “You’re going to Homecoming,” I say, grinning. It’s exactly what she needs, and I wouldn’t mind seeing her in a nice, tight dress. “And I’m taking you.”

  8

  Sophie

  Fifteen Years Ago

  The red satin dress is the complete opposite of my big sweaters. Rather than hanging loosely on me like a burlap potato sack, it… squeezes me. It presses my breasts together, but it only covers the bottom half of them, leaving the top of my cleavage open and exposed. I feel naked.

  Even where the dress does cover me, it squeezes me. It hugs my hips and ass, leaving nothing to the imagination. It’s the complete opposite of how I usually dress.

  And that’s why I have to wear it, right? I can’t hide from life; Mason keeps telling me that. I only get to be young once, and all I’ve tried so far, it seems, is being timid and afraid. How has that worked out for me?

  Why not be brave? And having the hottest guy in school right at my side can make me feel almost fearless.

  I finish applying my makeup with not a minute to spare. I hear the doorbell ring, and my heart pounds against my chest. I feel blood surging through my cheeks.

  “Sophie!” my dad shouts up the stairs. “Mason’s here!”

  Mason and my dad have already met. Even though Mason has quite a reputation at school for being a player, he’s good at acting like a complete gentleman to my dad, and my dad loves him. I can tell he’s already hoping that Mason and I will get married someday and be happy together forever, but I try to play it off. Like this whole thing is all no big deal to me.

  It’s a big deal to me that my Dad likes Mason. After my Mom died, he’s been extra protective of me. I worried that I’d never be able to bring a boy home, because he’d never be good enough for my Dad. It seems, amazingly, that Mason’s charm even works on my Dad.

  As much as my Dad wants me to be happy with Mason, I probably want what my dad wants even more than he does. Ever since Mason has started spending time with me, my life has felt like a fairytale.

  I take in a few deep breaths at the top of the staircase, and then I start walking down slowly, step by step.

  Soon Mason comes into view. He’s wearing a black suit and blue tie. The suit is perfectly cut for his strong frame, and he’s clean-shaven. The tie perfectly matches his gorgeous blue eyes. His smile reveals his perfectly straight, white teeth.

  I smile, too, as I descend the last few steps. For once, I’m not self-conscious about my braces. I know I look the best I’ve ever looked, and I just want to feel happy for once.

  Dad overdoes his reaction, but Mason’s seems genuine. He takes me gently by the elbow and says, “Ready to go?”

  I nod.

  “You guys get a limo?” my dad asks.

  Mason grins. “Nah, Mr. Sinclair, I love my car too much to let anyone else drive.”

  My dad laughs. “Good man.”

  We step outside, and the night air is still warm. The autumn chill hasn’t set in yet. Everything feels just perfect.

  Mason opens the Camaro’s passenger door for me, holding it like a perfect gentleman until I’m inside his car. I buckle up while he shuts the door and crosses over to the driver’s side.

  He slides into his seat, fastens his seatbelt, and then starts the car.

  “This is really nice of you,” I say. “I really appreciate it.”

  He takes his hand off the wheel and looks over at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “What?” I ask, my eyes widened.

  “I thought you’d made so much progress, but here you go again.”

  My mouth moves, but no words come out.

  He grabs me by the hand and squeezes. “I’m not doing this as some kind of favor. I mean, maybe when I first asked you it was sort of like that? But come on, Sophie, don’t you see how I look at you?”

  I’m blushing so hard now that I feel like my entire body is blushing, not just my face.

  “I…” I stammer. “Okay.”

  He laughs. “Okay? So you do see?”

  “It feels a bit too good to be true,” I say quietly.

  “And can’t I feel that way, too?” he asks. “I’ve messed around with a lot of girls, Sophie, and I never really was looking for more than that…”

  He looks away, down at the steering wheel.

  “Who’s being shy now?” I ask.

  He laughs, then leans closer in toward me. “Come here.”

  His voice is soft, and even though I’m not one hundred percent sure he means what I hope he might mean, I decide to apply everything he’s taught me and just assume that my life, the here and now, is what I want it to be. That fortune is on my side.

  I reach out and grab hold of him, and the next thing I know, Mason Steel’s lips are pressed against mine. I gasp and part my lips, feeling his tongue slide earnestly between my lips. Warmth overtakes every part of my body, and I meet his tongue awkwardly at first. I focus on what he’s doing, trying to match him as best I can. Soon my tongue is fighting back against his.

  His masculine scent surrounds me, and his taste fills me up and tantalizes my senses. This is everything I could have wanted, and more.

  After what seems like a long time, I feel him pull away from me.

  He licks his lips, and my mouth is just hanging agape. I can’t believe it happened. It’s like everything before that kiss occurred in another life, and everything after it is my new one. It feels like one hundred years divide the time before that kiss from the time after it.

  “I feel like your dad is watching us through the blinds or something…” Mason says.

  I laugh. “He would, too. Let’s go.”

  Mason shifts the car into drive and toward the dance.

  9

  Mason

  Ffiteen Years Ago

  When we step into the Homecoming dance, I see everyone whispering and pointing. I see a lot of jealous girls scoffing at Sophie, but I also notice a lot of guys checking her out.

  To silence everyone, I grab her by the waist, pull her into me, and kiss her again. I kiss her deep and warm, not holding it quite as long as our first kiss in the car, but long enough to shut everyone the fuck up. Long enough to get a taste of her again. I could tell she’d never kissed anyone before—not that I want to make a big deal out of it and embarrass her—but already on her second kiss, she’s getting really fucking good at it.

  When I let go of her, I realize no one is watching us anymore. No one cares. Her displaying some confidence about herself has finally shut everyone up, and now we can just enjoy the night together.

  We dance to Usher, OutKast, and Destiny’s Child. We dance fast, and we dance slow. Neither of us are very good at dancing, but neither of us cares. During the slow dances, I feel her pressed up against my body, and I hold her by the waist. I’ve done much more—and much faster—with plenty of girls, but it’s never felt this good just to hold someone.

  After a while, I hear a lot of noise near the drink table.

  “Isn’t that your brother?” Sophie says, looking over towards the commotion.

  I see Eric and Dan Grossman stumbling around near the table. Some guy—I think it’s Nick Miller—is red-faced. He shoves Eric, knocking him into the table.

  The table, and all the pre-filled plastic cups
of punch, fall to the ground.

  Sophie looks at me nervously.

  “I gotta go help him,” I say. “Fucking Eric.”

  Sophie frowns and nods.

  I rush over toward Eric, who is pulling his drunk ass back up to his feet. Nick’s fists are still all balled up, and he looks like he’s only letting Eric get back up so he can knock him down again.

  “Nick!” I shout.

  He turns to face me. “Fuck off, Mason, this has got nothing to do with you.”

  “He’s my brother.”

  Nick turns to me, as Eric stumbles back up. His shirt is stained with punch. Dan laughs and taps Eric on the arm, egging him on. Dan looks even more drunk than Eric.

  But Nick has turned his anger toward me. “You know what he did?”

  I look over at Nick. “Looks like he spiked the punch and had too much to drink. Come on, Nick, you got a good hit on him—”

  Eric rushes Nick from behind. He ducks his head down like a charging bull.

  I open my mouth and point, but Eric head butts Nick in the back before he can turn around. Nick grunts as Eric crushes him to the floor.

  Dan cheers, and Nick’s friends bum-rush me. As if I started the fucking fight.

  I may not start fights—not usually at least—but I sure as hell fight back if someone hits me.

  Three guys move toward me, and I slam my fist into the first one’s jaw, knocking him back straight away.

  The other two see it and get cold feet. They stop in place and start to back up.

  I eye them down, daring them to hit me.

  Two teachers are coming now, shouting at Nick, who is punching Eric in the face.

  I grab Nick and peel him off my brother, and then slam an elbow into his face to knock some sense into him.

  “Fuck off!” I shout, shoving him backward.

  The teachers step between me, Nick, and his friends. Eric is laughing, but his face is all bloody.

  “Steel!” The teacher angrily looks at me, shouting, “You and your brother...out!”

  I nod. “Let me get my date…”

  “Out!”

  I see Sophie standing in the crowd that’s gathered around. I grab Eric by one arm and start heading toward Sophie.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “They’re kicking me out of the dance,” I say. “You want to come with me, or…?”

  She grabs hold of my free hand. Holding my fuck-up brother’s arm with one hand, and Sophie clasping the other, we head out into the night.

  As soon as we’re outside, the feeling of Homecoming is gone. My suit and Sophie’s dress feel totally out of place, and Eric is mumbling something as blood drips down his face.

  “Let me help you clean him up,” Sophie says.

  We get him seated on a bench a few feet away from the building, and I go to grab some oil rags from the trunk of my car.

  When I get back to the bench, Sophie is sitting next to Eric and smiling as she talks to him. It looks like she’s trying to get his mind off whatever got him going in the first place.

  She grabs the oil rags out of my hand and starts cleaning Eric’s face.

  “I stole his girl,” Eric says.

  “You proud of that?” I ask.

  Eric grins. “Yeah, Lana Del Gotto? You seen her? She told me that I’m twice the size as Nick, she said that—”

  “Shut up,” I hiss.

  “I already told Sophie the whole thing,” Eric says, grinning. “You don’t have to spare her, bro.”

  “So where’s Lana now, huh?”

  “Nick might have a small dick, but he’s got more money than we do. Nick’s never had to fish a day in his life, and his parents will send him to a nice school in Boston as soon as he graduates. Girls will always stick to money. Nick’s a free pass out of Tuckett Bay. I’m a fun diversion. Women are bloodsuckers.”

  Sophie gives me a look.

  “But not you, huh, Sophie?” Eric says. “You’ve got a pure heart, right?”

  “You gotta work on your impulse control, man,” I say, grabbing Eric by the shoulders. “Just because you want to do something, or you think it feels right in the moment, doesn’t mean you just do it.”

  “You saying I should grow up, huh?” Eric asks. “You saying I should stop being a fuck-up?”

  “Basically, yeah,” I say. “There’s still time. Or you wanna end up here, working on a boat into your late fifties, early sixties?”

  Eric nods, and I actually think he’s taking my advice seriously. For once in his damn life.

  10

  Sophie

  Fifteen Years Ago

  I’d honestly hoped that Mason would stick to his reputation, and that he’d sleep with me on our first real date. Maybe if Eric hadn’t gotten into the fight, then maybe I’d have ended up “taking a ride” with Mason in his famous Camaro.

  Instead, he holds me close and kisses me for the third time that night. It’s a real, passionate good night kiss.

  I beam up at him after our lips part. “That was good.”

  Mason nods. “I know you’ve heard stuff about me, Sophie, but…”

  “It’s not true?”

  He looks down at his feet. “It is true. But maybe I don’t have to be that guy?”

  I give him a sinful smile and eye his Camaro. “Didn’t you tell me not to hide who you are?”

  “Is that what you want?” he asks. “You wanna fuck in my car? And you want me to forget your name and never call you again? You really want that?

  I bite my lip. “Maybe just the first part…”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “We got time, Sophie. Trust me, it’s not like I don’t want to tear that dress off you right now, but I don’t want that other stuff to happen so fast. Maybe I’m just talking shit, but I feel like we got something real here. Don’t you?”

  I nod, but I barely believe what I’m hearing. Mason Steel doesn’t talk like that. Especially not to me.

  “You’re not just saying that,” I say, “to make me feel better? You’re not letting me down easy?”

  “Where’d your confidence go?” he asks, grinning. “This may be good night, but it’s just the beginning for us.”

  The next morning, in the middle of my second class, the door swings open, and Ms. Bierman tells our teacher in a frantic voice to turn on the TV.

  When the screen flashes on, we all look up to see the World Trade Center on fire. And then footage of a plane flying into its Twin Tower.

  MASON - PROLOGUE

  “I grew up,” Eric says, stepping inside the living room.

  Mom and I have been watching the TV for the past five hours, solemn and numb, trying to make sense of whatever the fuck is happening in New York, DC, and Pennsylvania, but Eric has been MIA.

  “What?” I ask. “You seeing this shit on the news?”

  “Yeah,” Eric says. “I saw it, and I did what you told me to do, Mason. I grew up.”

  Mom and I look at him, not really following what he’s telling us. He’s got bruises all over his face from the fight the other night, and despite his words, he still looks like a kid.

  “What did you do?” Mom asks, standing up from where she had been sitting on the couch since this morning.

  She seems to know something I don’t. She can read him better than I can.

  “Enlisted,” Eric says, sticking his chest out. “I’m going to fight those fuckers. Whoever did this is going to pay.”

  “No!” Mom shouts. “You’re my baby, you can’t!”

  She goes hysterical and begs Eric, clinging to his shirt with tears streaming down her face, to go back to the recruiter, to change his mind.

  “I already did the physical,” Eric says. “As long as I pass, I’m in. No going back. I can’t be a fuck-up anymore. I learned that the other night...I’m tired of being a nobody. Now I’ve got purpose. And my purpose isn’t to be a fucking no-name fisherman in Tuckett Bay.”

  I’m in Sophie’s room, on her bed, holding her in my arms. Her
dad isn’t home. The news has finally died down—you can finally turn the TV on without seeing footage of the attacks circulating non-stop on loop—but Eric’s decision has made it so I can’t forget.

  No, my decision doesn’t allow me to forget. I haven’t told Sophie yet, but tonight I have to. I can’t hold it back from her any longer.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks. “I can tell you’re hiding something. Is it Eric again?”

  I nod, and she runs her hand up along my abs. I squeeze her hand and then push it away.

  “Jesus, Mason,” she says, standing up, fuming with anger at me. “You say you like me, but you sure don’t seem interested in touching me. Or letting me touch you. And don’t blame it on Eric.”

  I look up at her, dread filling my chest. “He’s my little brother. I have to watch out for him. I have to protect him.”

  She shakes her head. “I know. Maybe he won’t get sent off to war, but if he does...what can you do?”

  I stand up and smooth her hair back, look her straight-on in the eyes, and say it. “I joined up too, Sophie, I gotta go protect my brother.”

  I see her face turn ghostly white and then it nearly breaks apart, but she quickly pulls it back together. “How long?”

  “I dunno,” I say. “Shit, we don’t even really know for sure who attacked us? We don’t know who all was involved.”

  “I mean, how long do we have left?” she asks.

  I pull her close to me and say, “Forever. If you’ll wait for me.”

  “I’ll wait for you,” she says. “But I want you, Mason.” Her eyes have darkened and they bore into mine. “Now.”

  She pushes me backward until I tumble onto her bed, and then she straddles me, and presses her lips against mine. I don’t resist. She drinks me in thirstily—hungry with desire. Her hands grab at my belt, tear at it.

  “Slow down, Sophie—”

  “No,” she says, locking eyes with me.