Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Emery
The next morning, we got busy with packing everything up into my SUV and getting ourselves ready to re-enter the real world.
I tried to tell myself that I knew everything would be okay, but the knot in my stomach proved that I was a liar.
Before we left, I peeked at myself in the mirror and realized with some relief that the hickeys Mason had accidentally given me were mostly faded—and so were the ones I’d left on him.
I wasn’t entirely ready to tell my parents that we’d spent all of our free time exploring our sexualities together, despite what my dad had shared about Stuart.
The drive home was mostly quiet and I was sure Mason was doing the same thing I was—trying to accept that the part of our summer that had been dedicated to repairing cabin damage and exploring our exciting new feelings was over.
We were going to be faced with the reality of bringing those feelings to light.
Mason and I made it to my house soon enough, and we stayed relatively quiet as we unloaded my SUV and he put his things back into his own vehicle.
“Okay,” Mason finally murmured, lingering behind my SUV. “We’re good?”
I looked at him and I could see the worry in his gaze. “We’re good.” I gave him a sincere smile and took one of his hands in mine. “I mean, I am if you are.”
He nodded. “Never better.” A little smirk formed on his face. “Well… maybe I’ve been a little better.”
I snorted and released his hand, shoving his shoulder. “Well, life can’t be all sex all the time.”
Mason shrugged casually and reached between us, taking my hands again. “Thank you. I’ve had a good time this past month. I’m… I’m glad it happened.” Before I could reply, he leaned in and kissed me gently. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later,” I agreed. As he left, pulling out of my driveway with a little wave in my direction, a lonely sadness washed over me.
I wasn’t ready for him to go, but what choice did I have?
We both had grown-up lives and things to take care of, especially after a month off.
I headed inside and called my parents the minute I sat down, collapsing on the couch in exhaustion before I even unpacked my laundry or the remaining food in my cooler.
"Hey, Mom," I said when she answered.
"Oh, your dad is here. Let me put you on speaker so he can talk, too."
"Hi, Dad."
"How did the repairs go?" Dad had always been no-nonsense and straight to the point.
I quickly filled him in on the repairs we’d done, including Margaret’s house, and they hummed approvingly.
"Now, you’re coming to dinner tomorrow night."
"I am?" I sat up too quickly and made myself a little dizzy.
"Yes. And bring Mason. We want to thank you both for working so hard to get the cabin back in good shape."
"Okay, Mom. I’ll see you later." I hung up and closed my eyes for a moment before texting Mason.
Emery: Mom and Dad want you to come for dinner tomorrow night. A thank you, they said.
He responded just a few seconds later.
Mason: I wouldn’t mind cumming for dinner at your place instead.
He included a winking emoji.
Emery: Is that all you think about?
Mason: Apparently.
I sent an eye roll emoji.
Emery: So, dinner with my parents. Yes?
Mason: I’ll be there.
When I got to their house the next evening, Mason was already there, his pickup parked in the driveway of the sprawling brick rancher I’d grown up in.
The big poplar tree dominated the yard, casting shade over the lush lawn, but the tire swing Dad had installed when I was a kid was long gone.
I made my way up the steps and knocked on their front door twice before opening it and heading inside.
"Mom? Dad? I’m here."
"In here, honey," Mom called.
I followed the sound of her voice through the house toward the dining room, where I spotted Mason setting the table, wearing a black button-down shirt and jeans.
When he glanced over at me and we made eye contact, he darted his tongue out to wet his lower lip and my whole body heated. It was going to be a long, long dinner.
I made my way into the kitchen, adjacent to the dining room.
It also hadn’t changed much since I was a kid.
The walls were still a soft blue, but instead of the cabinets being the ancient pine color, they’d been painted white to look more modern.
Mom was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. Her face lit up when she saw me.
"What can I do to help?"
Mom pointed with her stirring spoon. "Go help Mason set the table. Food will be ready in a few minutes."
I swallowed hard and headed into the dining room again. "Need help?"
Mason grinned wickedly and nodded. He glanced around before reaching out and pulling me close.
I stumbled a step forward, into his embrace, and he rocked me with a dizzying kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth.
I kissed him back, my heart racing—partially in fear that we’d be caught before I had a chance to say anything to them, partially because of the intensity of his kiss.
Mason nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away entirely.
Breathless, I adjusted my hard cock in my shorts, eyes wide.
Mason just smiled again and winked at me. I flipped him off in response.
"You two okay in there? It’s awfully quiet," Mom said.
"Yeah, everything’s great," I replied, snatching the napkins from Mason’s hand to set them on the table.
Mom poked her head into the dining room and fixed me with a look. "Honey, are you sure you’re alright? You look flushed."
"I’m great, Mom. Promise."
"You know, when you were a kid and there was silence, I knew there was trouble on the horizon. You boys getting into some sort of trouble here?" Her tone was lighthearted and teasing.
"No trouble here, Mrs. Wilson," Mason assured her. She nodded, satisfied, and ducked back into the kitchen. Mason’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. I glared at him, but there was no anger in it.
A few minutes later the table was set and Mom was calling us in to fix our plates. She’d made a pot roast, and I piled my plate high with meat, stewed carrots, and mashed potatoes. When we took our seats in the dining room, Dad pulled a check out of his pocket and handed it to Mason.
"Here you go. For fixing up the cabin for me."
Mason glanced at it and shook his head. "This is too much. The materials only cost half that."
"For your time."
"You really don’t have to do that, Mr. Wilson," he protested. "I don’t mind doing it for cost."
Dad shrugged and waved his protests away. "Eat up now, before it gets cold."
Mason nodded and stuffed the check in his pocket. We all ate in silence for a moment before Mom gasped and put her fork down.
"Emery Wilson." I looked up at her and she had her eyes narrowed at me. "Are those hickeys on your neck?"
My hand immediately went to my neck where Mason had left the marks. "No," I lied.
"Do not lie to me young man." She picked up her fork again and waved it at me. "Who was it?"
Do not look at Mason. Do not look at Mason. Despite the warnings playing in my head, I glanced at him, almost involuntarily.
"Mason, you tell me the truth. Who gave him those hickeys? Did he meet someone while you were at the cabin?"
"Uh…" Mason started.
Dad reached over and patted Mom’s hand. Before he could speak and reassure her, I opened my mouth.
“It was Mason,” I blurted.