Chapter 20
Please, save my life…and my heart
Sitting on the couch, my legs stretched over Mason’s and my back pressed against a cushion positioned on the armrest, we ate soup while watching a teen rom-com I’d seen at least a dozen times with Paige over the years.
I had a fluffy blanket draped over me, one Mason had insisted would make me more comfortable.
“Want me to grab you an ice pack?” I asked, noticing how he’d been rubbing his right shoulder on and off for the last fifteen minutes, his face contorting into a grimace every time he did.
He cocked his head toward me, confusion swimming in his eyes. “What? Why?”
I pointed to his right side. “Your shoulder. It’s nagging you. Don’t pretend otherwise. I can tell you’re in pain.”
He rotated it as if to prove me wrong but stopped mid-movement.
“What happened? I thought you were doing better.”
“A bad hit. At practice. There are two guys on the team who hate my guts and are giving me a hard time for being the starting quarterback. Benjamin was supposed to be starting this year, but he’s benched because of an injury.
Anyway, his best friend, Bowman, doesn’t want me to challenge his spot, so he makes sure I screw up every chance I get to prove a point to Coach.
And there’s Nichols. You met him at Lola’s.
He’s a motherfucker with a capital M, and for some reason, he wants me off the team.
They don’t have a decent replacement if I get benched, so I don’t know what their problem is.
Most of the team is great, though. They respect me and listen when I call plays. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“You would tell me if it was worse than that, right?”
“It’s just a bruise. It will go away in a few days. All good.” He pushed my legs aside and moved to stand. “Stay here. I’ll get that ice pack myself. Want more soup?” He gestured to my empty bowl.
“Please.”
A moment later, Mason resumed his spot on the other end of the couch with his feet resting on the old chest doubling as a coffee table, pulling my legs so they stretched over his once again. He had wrapped the ice pack around his shoulder, and I had to trust that the injury wasn’t an issue.
I peeled my eyes away from him and brought my attention back to the screen in front of us. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen this movie.”
“Before you, Shepard, I didn’t really have girls as friends, and I spent most of my time on the field.
There’s no way Chase would be caught dead watching a rom-com with me.
I’m sure my brother watched a ton of these with Paige, but he never said anything about it.
How the hell was I supposed to know this movie existed? ”
“Were you living in a cave when it came out like four years ago? It was a huge deal back then. The blockbuster of the summer.”
“They must have had a car chase movie coming out at the same time. They usually do. That one I would have seen, believe me.”
“Anyway, it’s one of my favorites.”
He pressed pause as the credits rolled across the screen and angled his upper body so we could face each other. “Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s a mix of everything. The cast, the storyline, the tension between the two main protagonists, the side characters, the soundtrack, the swoony happily-ever-after. I love it all.”
“Even the grand gesture when the guy hijacks the hot air balloon and proposes to her after just a month of dating?”
“Especially that. Even if it sounds far-fetched, they make it seem believable.” I smiled big. “You can’t say it leaves you indifferent. Be honest.”
“I have to say, Shepard. It somehow works even though they’re both eighteen, and in real life, it would probably never go down like that. Anyway, I can see the appeal.”
“See? No one can resist a great love story with a heartbreaking plot.” I placed my bowl on the floor and moved across the couch until I could sit beside him. “Wanna share the blanket and watch another movie?”
“Yes. Let me check what we have. Not sure Amber left any other chick flick behind the last time she came over.”
After discarding the ice pack, he went by the makeshift media unit and opened a DVD case, flipping through the sleeves.
“Want to tell me what’s the deal with that chair? The hand-shaped one?” It looked like a bad designer piece, the fingers acting as the backrest, the palm being the seat, and the thumb turned into some sort of armrest.
“Rutherford found this at a garage sale during football camp. It’s freaking creepy. Nobody wants anything to do with it except him.”
“It looks like something from a bad horror movie. The killer would keep it in his basement, amongst his many computers, recording devices, hidden cameras, and the frozen bodies of his victims.”
“Jesus, Mel. You and horror movies. Don’t spook me, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
“You’re a six-foot-tall football player in college, and you’re scared of a made-up movie plot that isn’t even real?”
“I hate those things. You’re fully aware. People who write these screenplays are psychos if you think about it. They could be serial killers themselves. It’s no joke. I bet they could give you a crash course on how to bury a body without leaving any forensic evidence behind.”
“Gosh, you’re so dramatic tonight. Let’s talk about that plant, then.”
“Bob.”
“Bob?”
“Yeah, we named it. Move-in gift from my mom. It’s supposed to act as a testosterone filter.”
“A what?”
“Don’t mind it. It’s stupid. She thinks it will purify the air or make us less horny or something.”
“Anyway, I like its outfit. It’s very trendy.”
“Thank you.” He spun, waving a DVD in his hand. “How do you feel about a thriller? It’s not a horror movie, but it’s close enough. It’s about a detective following the hints left behind by a serial killer.”
I rubbed my hands together, excitement bubbling up inside me. “Sold.”
He put the DVD into the player and came back to sit on the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. I think that soup possesses real healing powers.”
“Glad you agree.”
The movie had only been playing for fifteen minutes when Mason started cracking his knuckles and bouncing his leg.
He’d been doing it a lot lately. He had told me once he’d been feeling restless lately, but this was something he’d never done before—at least not to this extent.
He kept raking his fingers through his hair, not seeming to realize he was doing it.
I placed a hand on his knee, stilling his leg. “Something you wanna talk about?”
He watched me with a frown, as if I’d just spoken another language.
“Mase, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Why would you assume something is going on?” Gone was the humor from his features. His jaw was locked tight, and his eyes were darker than usual. “Are you accusing me of something?”
I flinched at his harsh tone and raised my hands in surrender between us.
“Whoa. I did no such thing. I just asked if you were all right. You’ve been jittery lately.
It’s unlike you. I was just trying to be a good friend and see if there was anything you wanted to talk about.
No need to flip out.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Maybe I should just go home. You clearly need your rest.” I moved to stand, but he held me back with an arm across my stomach.
“Don’t.” He sighed, shaking his head and looking away for a moment.
“I’m sorry, okay? Like I said earlier, playing college football is way more stressful than playing in high school.
The stakes are much higher, and I feel the pressure getting to me.
We lost two games, and Coach berated me at practice this afternoon in front of everyone when I missed a pass after the hit.
He said I should get my head in the game, which is a bunch of nonsense.
I’ve been giving my three hundred percent since the first time I stepped on that field.
It’s stupid.” He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Don’t leave. My anger has nothing to do with you.
I shouldn’t have reacted like I did. You’re the one person I don’t wanna fight with. Are we okay?”
I nodded twice and sank back into the couch. “Yeah. Thanks for telling me. Want me to go?”
“Nah. Never.” He opened his arm. “Come here.”
I hesitated for a beat but ended up tucked into the crook of his arm.
Mason pressed play, and for the next hour and a half, we stayed like that, our attention focused on the screen, but our hearts banging against our ribcages in symphony.
When he combed my hair back with his fingers, I pressed myself closer against him, relishing the sensations awakening in the depths of me.
We were finishing up the dishes when we heard the front door open and banter filled the entryway. I recognized one of the voices as Craig’s.
“Come on,” Mason said, tugging at my hand. “Let’s go upstairs before they see us.”
“You don’t wanna stay here and say hi?”
“Later. I don’t feel super social right now.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Have you decided if you’re spending the night?” he asked me once we were locked in his bedroom.
“I don’t know.”
“Wanna listen to some music while you make up your mind?”
“Sure. Anything good you’re listening to these days?”
“Check this.” Mason slipped an earbud in my ear and pressed play. “It’s my new training playlist. Made it a few weeks ago.”
“Ohmygod. You like ‘If It Had Been You.” I’m obsessed with this song. I always listen to it on repeat before a meet. It’s my go-to song. Also, I’m such a huge fan of Sun Ray.”
“If you like it, listen to this one.”
He switched the song, and soon, an upbeat melody filled my ear. “Who’s that?”
“Same band. Earlier album. It’s called ‘I Really Don’t Mind.’ It’s not as popular, but it’s addictive once you listen to it a few times.”
I drummed the intoxicating beat on my thigh with my fingers, and Mason and I exchanged a smile.
“You look better than earlier. Your cheeks are pink now, and your eyes look less glassy,” he said once I gave him his earbud back.