Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
By the time we drag ourselves back to land, the sun has baked the coarse sand into a heat that stings my feet. I flop onto my towel, the terry cloth scratchy against my damp skin. I cross my arms beneath my head, sighing as the warmth seeps into me.
Mason stands over me, his shadow falling across my face, and shakes his curls like a wet dog. Cold droplets spray over my stomach and chest.
“Stop it!” I squeal, rolling to my side and shielding myself with my towel.
He grins, shameless, before dropping down on his own towel beside me. Reaching into his backpack, he grabs his pump, reconnects it, and pulls out a bottle of sunscreen. He starts rubbing it into his shoulders, his skin gleaming under the sun, muscles shifting easily with each movement.
“Help me with my back?” he asks, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
“Sure,” I say, pushing myself up.
I take the bottle, squirt some into my palm, and work it into his shoulder blades. His skin is warm from the sun, and I can feel the tension in his muscles gradually ease under my hands.
“You’re good at this,” he murmurs, leaning forward and brushing his hair out of the way so I can reach the back of his neck.
When I’m done, Mason turns and gestures for me to switch. “Your turn. No sunburns on my watch.”
I lie on my stomach, and his hands are firm but careful, spreading the sunscreen over my shoulders, down my spine, and along my arms. The pressure is slow, deliberate—like he’s memorizing every inch of me
Once we’re both covered, we stretch out side by side, towels just touching. The gulls cry overhead, and the steady lap of the water fills the air. I can feel Mason’s presence even with my eyes closed, the warmth of him a steady anchor in the heat of the afternoon.
“This is a really nice beach,” I muse, flipping over to face him. “It’s so quiet.”
He smiles softly. “Yeah. Super private. Back in high school, people used to come here to hook up.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Right over there, by the trees.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you?”
His cheeks flush. “I—uh, maybe.”
I snort. “Sounds like you were quite the player.”
“I’m not proud of it,” he mutters. “Had a lot of bad sex with a lot of disappointed girls.”
I laugh. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Trust me, it was. I couldn’t keep it up, but I’d always blame it on being nervous. Or drunk.” He winces at the memory.
“At least you had sex in high school,” I counter. “I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty.”
Mason shifts closer, the corner of his mouth curling. “And was it good?”
It wasn’t. Travis hadn’t prepped me nearly enough. I was the first guy he’d ever fucked, and he had no clue what he was doing. But I’d been desperate for him to like me. Desperate for anyone to like me. So I bit my tongue and pretended it didn’t hurt.
I slowly shake my head. “Not really.”
He’s quiet for a second, studying me. “Was it with the ex-boyfriend you talked about before? Your brother’s friend?”
I nod. “Yeah. Travis.”
“He sounds like a douchebag,” he says darkly. “I hate that he made you feel like that.”
I stare up at the blue sky, my voice low. “We met at a party Landon was throwing at our apartment. Travis was there. He was tall and handsome, and I had this massive crush on him. That night, during the party, he came into my room. He was drunk, and he kissed me. My first kiss.”
Mason watches me carefully, not interrupting.
I suck in a breath. “The next day, we had sex. And afterward, he asked me to be his boyfriend. I said yes without even thinking. I didn’t realize it then, but…
it was toxic from the start. He knew I was vulnerable.
He’d keep me insecure on purpose, controlling every aspect of my life, just enough so I’d be too scared to leave him. ”
Mason’s jaw tightens as he waits for me to continue.
“We dated for almost a year. Then one day, out of nowhere, he broke up with me. Told me he’d been cheating on me the entire time.
And then—” I swallow hard, “—he said he realized he wasn’t into men at all.
That I’d just been an experiment. That he…
just felt sorry for me because I was his best friend’s lonely virgin brother. ”
Mason’s gaze darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes. “That’s—Jesus, Hunter. I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t date after that,” I admit quietly. “You’re… the only other guy I’ve slept with.”
For a moment, Mason just lies there, looking at me like he’s trying to understand all the broken pieces of me. Panic seeps into my brain, and I wonder if I said too much. Maybe this is the final straw for him. Maybe he doesn’t want to sleep with someone who’s so inexperienced.
But then his hand finds mine in the space between our towels, fingers lacing with mine.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that,” he murmurs.
Heat rises to my face. “It’s embarrassing.”
He shifts onto his side, brushing his thumb over my cheek—wiping away a tear I didn’t even know had fallen. “Please don’t be embarrassed. I think you’re so fucking strong, Hunter. Stronger than you know.”
I don’t say anything. I just hold his gaze, lost in the swirls of vibrant green and golden brown.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his forehead resting against mine. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
Something in my chest cracks open. I squeeze his hand, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe—just a little—that maybe he means it.
***
When we climb back into Mason’s truck, I feel eviscerated, like my stomach has been sliced open and my guts are spilling out. I exposed the most vulnerable parts of myself to Mason, and somehow, despite the ugliness of it all, he’s still here.
I lean against the window, chipping at my nail polish, letting the hum of the engine fill the quiet. The faint tropical smell of sunscreen lingers between us, sticky with the memory of the afternoon.
My T-shirt is still damp, so I sit bare-chested, arms folded tight. The sun sinks low, casting gold over the empty two-lane road, while the truck’s A/C blasts too cold against my skin. I reach forward and close the vent, shivering.
Mason glances over, one hand loose on the wheel. He reaches behind his seat, fishing around with one arm until he pulls out a bundled navy blue hoodie. “Here. This one’s clean… mostly.”
I roll my eyes but take it from him. It’s soft from too many washes, the fabric warm from sitting in the sun. I slip it over my head, the scent of him wrapping around me—sunblock, lake water, and something that’s just… Mason.
When I settle back into the seat, he gives me this small, satisfied smile, like seeing me in his hoodie has just made his entire day.
“You look better in that than I do,” he says, eyes flicking from the road to me and back again.
I tug the sleeves over my hands, pretending not to notice how fast my heart’s beating.
When we pull up to my rental, he leaves the engine running, resting his arm on the wheel.
“So…” Mason says, clearing his throat. “I’ve got a court date on Monday.”
I tilt my head toward him. “Should I be concerned? Did you commit a crime I should know about?”
That gets a soft laugh out of him, but it fades quickly. “Not that kind of court. Family court. It’s an initial custody hearing.”
The humor drains from the air between us. “Oh.”
He shifts his gaze through the windshield, watching the clouds. “My mom’s… not doing great. Her doctor doesn’t think she’ll make it through the end of the year.”
I bite my lip, unsure what to say.
“She’s okay with it—wants me to be ready.
I’m trying to get custody rights for Maddie and make it official before things get bad.
Mom’s on board, but…” He exhales sharply through his nose.
“The problem’s going to be getting Stephen to show up and sign the paperwork. That’s… not exactly his strong suit.”
I pause. “Stephen?”
“Our father.”
“Oh.”
The truck’s idle hum is the only sound filling the space. Mason’s still staring at the sky, and I can tell from the way his fingers curl and uncurl around the steering wheel that his mind is far away from here.
“I’m sorry,” I say finally. It feels too small for what he’s carrying, but it’s all I have to offer.
His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smile. “It’s fine. I just wanted you to know ahead of time. I’ll probably be busy—might not answer right away if you text me.”
I nod. “Well, thanks for telling me, Mase. If there’s anything I can do to help—”
“I’ll let you know,” he says quietly.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then he leans across the center console to kiss me, short and sweet. When we separate, he brushes my cheek with his thumb.
“You can keep the hoodie. For now.”
I don’t argue. I just hold onto the warmth of it as I climb out, the door shutting with a muted thud. The smell of him stays with me long after his taillights disappear down the road.