Chapter 16 #2
“Yep. I’m always one hundred percent committed to everything I do.
” He wolfed down the last bites of his sandwich and discarded his plate on the desk beside him before rubbing his hands together and moving to his feet.
“Tell me which one looks better.” He seemed to hesitate for a beat, then turned toward me. “Nah, come here instead.”
I ate the last bite and stood next to him.
He grabbed both my shoulders and moved me until my back pressed against the wall. “Open your eyes.” He took a step back and watched me, his gaze traveling between my face and the wall. “Okay, I've chosen. Thanks for your help, Shepard.”
I looked behind me, confused. “What? How? I didn’t do anything.” I stepped next to him with my fists on my hips, wondering what he saw that I didn’t. “How did you decide?”
“Just a hunch. I’ll go with the teal color.” Oh. My eyes. “Wanna help me?” He checked the time on his phone. “If I go to the hardware store now and hurry, we’ll have a little over two hours to paint the first coat, then I can feed you dinner and drive you to work. What do you say?”
A small part of me knew it wasn’t a good idea, but the bigger part, enjoying our time together so far, won the battle of wills in my head. “Fine. I don’t have clothes to wear, though.”
“We’ll fix that.” He reached into the closet and fetched a pile of clothes from a box.
“Old stuff I’m parting with. Choose what you want.
I’ll be back soon.” He neared me and dropped a kiss on my forehead, the way he used to when we spent time together last year, and grabbed his car keys before rushing down the stairs, humming a song I recognized too well.
I froze on the spot as realization set in.
I was all alone in Mason’s house. Not just his house, but his bedroom, surrounded by all things reminding me of him and smelling like him.
How had I ended up here? Oh yes. Because I was weak while facing him.
That was why. I needed to regain some self-control around Mason Pierce.
Otherwise, I’d be in deep trouble soon enough, proving Cassidy right with her I told you so warning.
I ended up wearing an old pair of black sweatpants, that I’d rolled at the waist and ankles, and a worn white T-shirt with a dark stain and tiny holes in it that I’d tied at the front.
I was certain it was the same shirt Mason wore last fall on the day he’d kidnapped my car to change the brake pads while I was at work.
He returned as I finished braiding my hair and used another T-shirt as a bandana to avoid getting paint all over it. I was relieved he didn’t catch me sniffing his shirt when I’d pulled it down over my head minutes ago. I couldn’t help myself. It smelled like driftwood and pine and happy memories.
“Wow, I’ve always loved you in my clothes.”
I turned my back to him when I felt my face warming up, pretending to adjust the makeshift bandana on my head. “Did you get everything we need?”
“Yes. Let me change quickly, and we’ll get going.”
I fixed my eyes on the wall as I heard drawers opening and closing behind me. I heard his sharp intake of breath, the sound of cotton sliding over bare skin, a zipper, something banging on the floor, a curse word, and fingers scratching a scalp.
Two hands rested on my hips from behind, and it was my turn to suck in a breath. For an instant, I was transported to a year ago. A rough cheek brushed my ear, sending shivers down my back. “You okay?”
Mason’s voice had never sounded so husky before. If sex had a voice, I had no doubt that would be how it would sound.
I schooled my features so he wouldn’t be able to see the effect he had on me and pivoted between his arms.
He never released my hipbones. “Hey.”
Why did he have to look so hot right now, dressed in clothes a bit too small for him? Oh yes, because that T-shirt molded to every muscle of his chiseled abdomen and sent weird signals all over my body.
I tipped my chin up to stare at him. “Hi.”
“I was thinking… You brush, I roll? Unless you wanna be the one rolling?”
I swallowed, barely able to breathe when he was standing so close. “Sure.”
“Sure?”
I cleared my throat. “You roll, I brush.”
“Wanna help me move the furniture away from the walls first?”
“Yep.”
He winked. “Good.”
When he let go of me, my knees wobbled. My body was a traitor.
Mason and I were supposed to be just friends.
Right now, I had forgotten why I had resolved to keep our relationship in the friend zone, but I must have had good reasons once upon a time.
I needed to remember them—and fast—before I ceded to his charming ways and made a mistake that would blur all the lines.
For the next fifteen minutes, we prepped the room by moving furniture, spreading drop clothes all over the floor, and pouring paint into a tray.
Every now and then, Mason jumped on the spot, stretching his legs and rotating his shoulders before cracking his knuckles.
Sometimes, he tapped a restless off-beat rhythm with his foot on the floor like he couldn’t stand still for more than a minute.
He reminded me of Chase. The only difference was that Chase had always been the hyperactive type while Mason hadn’t.
I had no idea if the pressure of the game was eating him up or if something else was going on, but I could tell Mason wasn’t fully himself.
I had noticed his jittery self more than once over the last few weeks, and I wondered if I should be concerned.
Not that it was any of my business, to begin with, but still, something felt off.
A part of me considered asking him what was on his mind, but another part of me decided against it. We weren’t that kind of friends anymore, and I had no right to meddle in his life while keeping him out of mine.
We worked in silence, and after what felt like eternity, Mason put some music on, killing some of the tension in the room. The more he focused on his task, the less restless he appeared to be.
“All done with the brush,” I said, jumping from the desk I’d used as a stepladder to reach the top of the wall.
Mason turned fast, bumping into me, and I smacked my face into the paint roll he had just reloaded.
“Oh shit.” His eyes rounded. “You look like a Smurf.”
I used my finger to remove the paint around my eyes.
“Let me.”
I dropped my hand after rubbing it off on my T-shirt.
He used his own shirt to wipe my face—removing as much paint as possible—and winced. “I think you need a shower.”
“It’s that bad?”
“If you were to dress as Smurfette or some sort of alien next week for Halloween, then you could rock it like that for a few days.”
I scrunched up my face, my skin straining with the now-dry paint coating it. “I’m going as a cop, not a blue humanoid creature living in a mushroom.” My hand flew to my mouth. Why was I always blurting things I shouldn’t in front of him?
“A cop?”
“Erase the last ten seconds and forget what I just said.”
“Mel. I will never be able to forget your wearing handcuffs and a baton. I’m hot all over just picturing it in my mind.”
I backhanded his chest. “Don’t say stuff like that.”
“You can’t stop my imagination once it’s in motion, baby. That’s not how it works.”
Baby. That word again.
“I should go back to my dorm and shower before my shift at Lola’s.”
He blocked my exit. “No way am I letting you out of here looking like you’re suffering from the worst case of argyna known to mankind.”
“Argyna?”
“It’s when toxic levels of silver build up in your body, and your skin turns blue. It’s my ten-point word.”
“I didn’t know this condition existed.”
“I watched a documentary about rare diseases a while back.”
“Interesting. I’ll try to remember that.”
“Always a pleasure to teach you new stuff, Shepard.” He cast a glance down before setting his eyes back on mine. “Shower here.”
I shook my head with too much velocity. “No way. I can’t shower here.”
“Sure you can.”
“Nope.”
“Yes.”
I tipped my hip forward. “Make me.”
His eyes lit up with devilish sparks, and I knew I shouldn’t have said that. I was in big trouble. Why couldn’t I just shut up for once?
Before I had time to take back my words, Mason scooped me up over his shoulder. I kicked my feet. My makeshift bandana fell to the floor. “Mase, lower me down.”
He splayed his big, muscular hand across my upper thighs to hold me in place. “Sorry, Mel. I can’t. You need to be cleaned. Anyway, we have a dinner date before your shift, so you better get to it and not lose any valuable time.”
Once in the bathroom, he turned on the shower and slid me down his front in slow motion. I felt every plane and ridge of his toned abdomen and the thick bulge just below.
Time halted.
The Earth stopped its rotation.
I was suspended against his hard chest, his hands holding me still as we breathed the same air. Even though we said nothing, it felt as if our souls could talk.
My entire being fizzed with excitement. My lips tingled. My hands became aware of the warmth of his flesh bleeding through the cotton fabric of his T-shirt.
I closed my eyes, not sure if I could resist the pull between us this time around.
The door of the bedroom slammed open and broke the spell. Mason lowered me to my feet and twisted his body to hide me as a voice I didn’t recognize greeted him. “Hey, man. Wanna go out for dinner? Amber has an art class tonight, and I feel like going to Lola’s. You in?”
Mason scratched the back of his head. “I kinda already have plans for dinner. I could maybe join you afterward if you’re still there.”
“You’re painting your room?” the guy I supposed was one of his roommates asked. “Looks nice. Maybe you can do mine next.”
“In your dreams, man. I’ll shower and catch up with you later.”
“I’m leaving in five. Call me if you change your mind.”
“Will do.”
The door closed, and footsteps padded away.
Mason spun to face me again. “I’ll clean up while you shower.” He pointed to the bedroom behind him. “I’ll jump in quickly after.”
I nodded.