It made me want to hold his hand and … kiss it. And sit really, really close to him. And run my fingers through his hair and tell him that I loved having him as a brother and I missed him.
Instead of saying or doing any of that though, I said: “Weird being here again—huh?” My voice was all throaty for some reason.
Mason’s brow rose. “Yeah. I was just thinking that. It hasn’t changed that much—yet everything’s changed.”
I swallowed down the golf-ball sized lump in my throat wondering if he was really talking about the place—or if he was talking about us. How everything about us had changed. I mean, last night we’d kissed. And we’d gotten into a fight. Mason and I used to never fight. Ever. He would always just give me what I wanted, but in a nice way. Like he wanted to do it.
His eyes were on me now looking reflective, but then a small smile crept on his lips. “I wonder if your boyfriend still works here.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. There was this young guy that used to work here. He would always give me crayons and a coloring book when he sat Mason and me at our booth, like he thought I was a kid or something—only he didn’t look at me like he thought I was a kid. And once he asked me if Mason was my boyfriend. I had told him yes and Mason had laughed. But after that, Mason always teased me about the guy and called him my “boyfriend”—especially when the guy started giving me free ice cream. Shudder. Mason would watch me eat it with a big smile on his face. Knowing I wanted to turn the ice cream down, every time … only I liked ice cream too much. And hey, we weren’t made out of money … and well, it was free ice cream. I would share it with Mason when the guy wasn’t looking though—or sometimes even when he was looking. I mean, I’d told the guy Mason was my boyfriend. So, it seemed rude he didn’t give Mason ice cream too.
Only Mason had laughed at that, telling me he wouldn’t accept free ice cream from a guy…. But of course not long after that girls started giving him “free” range of their mouths—and everything else he wanted. So, whatever. His telling me guys would always give me free ice cream didn’t seem to mean so much anymore. But back then, hearing him say it had made my stomach flutter. Maybe it’d had more to do with the way he said it, and they way he looked at me when he said it—with his eyes all glued to me and everything, like he was trying to give me a cryptic message that I just didn’t get … but I’d liked it just the same. I mean, free ice cream—cool!!
***
By the time we finally got home, it was dark out. I’d had such a wonderful day though, that I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to keep being with Mason, even though I knew I hogged him all day and ruined all of his plans. Still, I didn’t want him to run off to his night plans either. I wanted him to stay with me—keep giving his sacred, delicious attention to me.
“I can make us dinner,” I told him coaxingly. “Anything you want. And then we can play a video game—or watch a movie.”
I could see Mason was going to turn me down, so I went on quickly, “It doesn’t have to be a romantic movie. It can be anything you want—violence, blood, gore. All that yucky stuff you love.”
His eyes closed. He squeezed them tight since he hates to say no to me. But I knew that look—he was going to shoot me down.
I went on doggedly anyway, “Whatever you want, Mason. You can choose.”
I was being ultra coaxing, something I don’t normally do for a guy. Okay, I never do for a guy. But this was Mason. And he’d been super sweet all day…. And I didn’t want him to leave me. “I just want you to stay with me.”
“Summer,” he said reluctantly.
That was all he said, but I knew he was turning me down. He already had other plans—he’d told me earlier. Still, I tried. “Don’t go to the party, Mason—stay with me.”
I watched his sandy hair fall over his gorgeous dark eyes, masking them—probably on purpose. “You know I want to,” he said softly. “Summer … you’re not being fair.”
“I just want you to stay with me.”
He shut his eyes again, weaving his golden strands off his forehead.
Running a hand over his face, he groaned. “Look, Summer we spent the whole day together—now I have to go.”
He said it like it had been some sort of torture for him. Like I’d had to twist his arm to make him spend the day with me. But I was pretty sure it hadn’t been that way. At all.
“I just don’t get it. Why? I had such a good time with you today. Didn’t you have a good time? It seemed like you liked being with me.”
“Summer, you know I did.” He leaned the back of his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. Finally, he dragged his gaze back to me. His eyes bore a hole into mine. “If you want me to treat you like a sister, you have to let me see other girls—” his brow rose “—girls I can actually touch.”
“I don’t want you to see other girls,” I muttered.
Mason’s lips parted slightly. He narrowed me a cautious look. “Summer, what are you saying?”
His words sounded guarded, as though he didn’t truly believe what I said.
I exhaled slowly, looking away from him, being totally honest, “I don’t know.”
As though he’d been holding his breath, he let it out slowly. He grabbed his jacket. “Well, let me know when you figure it out.”
I watched him disappear out the door only knowing one thing—I didn’t like him leaving me.
CHAPTER 26
After Mason left, I got a text from my friend Raven. Yes, I actually had other friends besides Mason and Zoey. Tons, in fact. I just didn’t really care for any of them too terribly much. I mean, they were fine to shop with or swim with or cheer with, or whatever the agenda called for. But I never felt the need (or desire) to text them much … or even reply to their many, many texts … most of the time. But tonight, I replied. Because tonight I felt restless.
Raven was on the cheerleading squad with me, and she wanted to know if I wanted to go to a party with her. I’m not much of a party-girl. Okay, I’m not a party girl at all. I don’t drink, and well, most high school parties, that’s what people do—drink. However, they also dance. And I felt like dancing. Big time. So, I texted Raven back, “Sure, sounds fun.”
Then I ran upstairs to my closet to find something gorgeous to wear.
When Raven and I got to the party, Jake greeted us at the door. Big, slimy Jake, whose stare gives me the chills.
“Mmm, you look tasty,” he said, his eyes dripping down my body.
Shudder.
Raven pulled me away from him—thank goodness. “You can look, but don’t touch,” she said with a laugh.
Then Raven and I did little whoops and woots. (I don’t know why exactly, just because we wanted to, I guess. And because we could get away with it—making loud noises that meant nothing except, “Hey, we’re here!!”)
Then we went to the very outskirts of the dance area and danced together. And well, I’m not going to lie. We dance gooood. And get attention. And we were definitely getting it from Mason. Big time. (Yes, Mason was at the party and I knew he would be.)
When Mason first noticed Raven and me, he’d been playing pool. He’d looked up distractedly as he’d been about to take a shot, then he saw me and did a double-take. His brow rose at what I was wearing—or the way I was dancing … or both. His glittering eyes narrowed and stared—and stayed on me for the rest of the night.
Instead of going back to his pool game, he sat at the ledge of the stair’s landing, blatantly watching us dance.
Blatantly.
But I acted as though I didn’t notice, dancing like I was alone—like no one was watching. Though I was way, way too aware Mason’s eyes were glued to me—that they were drinking in my every move.
Then—big mistake!! Accidently, my gaze met his. And that was it. Immediately, our eyes locked. My heart slammed against my chest and sizzling heat roared through my body and I couldn’t look away.
Then, it was like I was dancing for him. Like no one else
was in the room. Just me and Mason and his hungry eyes.
Intently watching me, Mason slowly took a drink of his soda, his heated gaze never leaving mine. That moment was too hot. My knees went weak. Mason with a longing stare—it was too much for my pounding heart. It was going to explode.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I lied to Raven. Really I just needed to get away from Mason’s hypnotic stare. I needed to do it quick, before I had a seizure … or died from the inability to breathe.
I just needed a moment—to get my world to stop spinning.
As I sped away, Mason narrowed a questioning look at me, his eyes seeming to say, What’s going on, Summer? Why you stoppin’ the show?
But that in itself made me cringe. I mean, hello. That was the problem—I didn’t want to be putting on a show for him. Well, I didn’t want to want to put on a show for him. I just wanted us to be together—be friends. Like we had been earlier today … like we used to be—always.
So, yeah. I was putting out totally mixed signals. As usual. Grrr!
I scurried toward the bathroom, but there was a line. I turned around, deciding to go outside instead. Breathe in fresh air. Or just … breathe. But I turned, and there was Mason. His eyes on me. My heart stopped. I so wasn’t ready for this. The way he was looking at me.
His brow rose as I stood staring at him, breathless. But the way his eyes were glued to mine, I doubted I’d ever breathe again.
His voice was almost gentle, but held a note of accusation, “What are you doing here? You hate parties like this.”
“Well, yeah. Usually,” I stammered. “But tonight, I don’t know—I felt restless. I wanted something different.”
“Different?” He tilted his head, squinting his eyes, like he was trying to figure out my code—figure out if I was actually using one (you know, because of the dance). Then he seemed to decide: Screw it. In a heartbeat, he pinned me against the wall, his hands on either side of me.
“Did you dress this way for me?” his voice was husky as his eyes dipped to the length of my body, lingering on my every curve. “Because I like it, Summer.”
His face grew close and he breathed into the curve of my neck, trailing kisses down my throat. “Were you putting on that show for me?”
Heat ignited through my body.
Swallowing, I squeaked out in a strangled whisper, “I just wanted your attention.”
His kisses on my neck continued (!!), causing goose bumps to rise on every inch of me. Without stopping he murmured, “Well, you have it.”
Instantly, his hands tangled in my hair as his hot mouth crashed against mine. The world spun and my knees went weak.
His kisses—oh my gosh! They were different than before—still passionately incredible, yet so insatiable. Instantly I knew I’d made a mistake, but it was too late. Not letting me squirm away, within seconds, he had the door to a room open and whisked me inside.
Our lips never parting, he backed me against the wall—kissing and kissing and kissing. It had me seeing stars. I was positive I was going to pass out any second from too much excited adrenaline running through my heart and brain. Through my entire system.
I couldn’t believe this was really happening. That this was tough, sweet Mason—that he was kissing me like this. That he was kissing me at all. His hot, tantalizing mouth devouring me. It was as though he couldn’t get enough, as though he wouldn’t stop until he consumed me…. And he made it seem that was his plan. That he would seduce me with his hungry, unyielding passion. Tantalize me and have me just the way he had every girl. That within minutes I’d be another conquest.
“Mason! Stop it!” I pushed him away breathlessly. I growled. “You made your point.”
“Did I?” He raised his brow.
Flushed and breathing hard, he slowly gave me a little space, just a little. But he didn’t allow me to leave. He still had me caged against the wall.
His warm ragged breath heated my lips. He asked ironically, “What point is that?”
“That you have way more experience than me—and I’m not your type.”
Obviously.
He was used to party girls, and older girls—girls that weren’t shocked by what he’d just been doing. (And it seemed he’d only been getting started!!!) I wasn’t used to that stuff. I was used to being in control—and having all the control.
No, I definitely wasn’t his type.
Mason shook his head ruefully, his eyebrows lifting. “That wasn’t my point.”
But he moved away from the wall and let me leave.
CHAPTER 27
“You moved out?”
Trembling, I’d sought Mason out first thing when I got to school Monday morning. I’d woken to find he was gone. That he’d taken all of his stuff. Everything.
He didn’t turn around from his locker. “I had to.”
My lip quivering, I closed my eyes. Squeezed them shut tight. “Why?”
Mason shut his locker, finally looking at me. “You know why.”
I swallowed. “O-kay,” I stammered, my heart falling to the floor. Shattering. I choked out, “It was my fault. I know that. I get it.”
I was almost crying, terrified for once Mason wasn’t going to give me what I wanted. But this time I needed him to the most. This time, to me, it was life or death. Because I couldn’t breathe without Mason. “I’m sorry, Mason. So sorry.” My eyes welled with tears. “I don’t want you to move out. I want you to move back in.”
He gave me a sardonic look like, I was being dumb. “Why? So, I can ogle you and make you uncomfortable in your pajamas?”
My breath hitched. His reality was obviously completely different than mine. “Just come back. You’re mad. It’s totally my fault. I’m sorry.”
“Summer, I’m not mad—well, yeah I’m mad. You were being a tease. You went to that party to mess with me.”
Heat sizzled through me.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, feeling the desperate need to remind him, “You did all that groping just to prove a point.”
“I did it to prove a point, yeah … but I liked doing it, Summer. I can’t live with you. I want to make-out with you. I want to kiss you blind.”
THE PRESENT
CHAPTER 28
The day after the Sabrina fiasco—you know, where she’d been exposed (to the whole school) cheating on her boyfriend and making-out with Mason—I find myself on a school bus. One filled with rowdy kids. I’m taking my brand-new little stepbrother, Danny, on this campout for youth that his dad was supposed to take him to—but the loser cancelled. (Okay, the “loser”—my new step-dad [grrr!]—had to work, but still. Whatever. Cancelling on his son?? LOSER.)
Danny had been looking forward to the activity. So much. I’m not a camper. Even slightly. But I’m a sucker for my new little brother’s puppy dog eyes. So, I here I am. On a bus. Going camping.
But THEN! I almost choke on my gum. ‘Cause guess who shows up right before the bus takes off? If you guessed Mason, you’re right.
Mason had looked shocked when he saw me on the bus. He tilted his head, his eyebrows drawing together. For a moment, he just stood there—frozen. But he recovered quickly, asking what I was doing—going camping with a bunch of kids. He asked it with a little laugh as he slid into the seat behind Danny and me. Probably the chuckle was because he knows me—camping is not my thing.
“My stepdad cancelled on Danny, so I’m filling in,” I explained, though I figured Mason already put all that together. Things weren’t so easy to figure out on my end though. I mean, Mason doesn’t have a little brother. Or any siblings—unless you counted me. Which you really couldn’t do. Unless there is such a thing as an ex-sibling.
I muttered, “I think the better question is, what are you doing here?”
“Civic hours,” Mason answered. “A punishment from the principal.”
A tiny grin quirked on his lips. “Apparently he didn’t quite believe my innocence yesterday.”
; I rolled my eyes. “I wonder why that is?”
He twitched a devilish grin. “I have no idea. But here I am—going to give kids a lesson on using a knife.”
The irony danced in his twinkling eyes as well as in his sardonic voice.
I gaped. “Seriously?”
Okay, the knife usage lesson was probably only for wood whittling or something, but still. Giving a guy in anger management a knife?—as punishment? It just seemed wrong.
Mason nodded, still grinning. He laughed, “And not only a knife—more importantly, the bow and arrow. You know, in case you can’t use a gun when zombies attack.”
“Or you need to kill a bear,” Danny said.
Mason playfully mussed Danny’s hair. “Yeah, important things like that—bears and zombies.”
I dropped my jaw. “You’re going to teach the kids how to use weapons?”
“Yeah, for hunting,” Mason said. “Some campers do that.”
Mason had grown up hunting with his dad. It was probably the only thing his dad ever taught him—how to kill.
I grumbled. “Eight year olds?”
Mason shrugged. “They have to learn sometime, I guess. Look, don’t look mad at me. This wasn’t my idea.”
I wasn’t mad. Of course. I was just grouchy. And still am now. The minute Mason got on the bus, immediately Danny was in Mason’s lap. Wonderful. Seeing that, I slumped in my seat. I didn’t want to be stuck with Mason all weekend watching him be all macho and manly, yet extremely good and kind and patient with kids. Groan. I wanted to be mad at him. But it was hard, since he kept letting Danny where his hat and talk his ear off.
Danny loved Mason. And wanted him to be his brother. Just like me.
But yeah, Danny sitting back there with Mason—obviously it has me wondering why I’m here. Why didn’t I think to ask Mason instead? Probably it’s because I’m up to my eyeballs in debt to him already. Plus, I’m sort of still fighting my hardest to keep my heart guarded from him.
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