Chapter Fourteen Daphne （In Mason’s Body） #2
Me: Well then, I’d be a shitty best friend because we don’t skip out on movie night.
Mason: Technically, you’re not. I’ll still be here.
Me: Yeah, but I would know that I wasn’t, and I don’t think I could live with that.
Mason: You’re being dramatic, Daph. Just go to bed if you’re tired and get some rest.
Me: Don’t tell me what to do. Now I’m not tired anymore.
Mason: Of course not, ha-ha
I slam my phone down on the blanket and focus back on the movie, right as Hilary Duff’s character is reading the quote on the wall of her dad’s diner after the guitar falls.
Maeve starts quoting Babe Ruth’s famous line.
But when Mason doesn’t do it with her, like I normally would, her gaze whips to Mason. “You missed it!” She lifts her hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
Mason laughs. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Just feeling kind of out of it tonight, I think. Not like myself .”
He winks at me when Maeve looks away, and I roll my eyes.
He’s so stupid.
She throws her arm over him and snuggles into his side, and a pang of unexpected jealousy shoots through me.
I know that’s not Mason’s body, and I know that Maeve is his sister. I’m stupid for even feeling that way at all when it comes to him.
We tune back into the movie, getting lost in the story. When the climax of the movie finally hits, Sam and Austin kiss on the bleachers, and a drop of rain hits his tan cheek, that annoying chest pain returns, and I can’t help but look over at Mason.
My hand flies to my mouth to stifle the giggle from breaking free.
Maeve is passed out and drooling on his shoulder, and Mason is staring right at me.
He presses his lips together and fights his smile as he glances over at her.
I whisper over to him, “She does that to me all the time. Just gently ease her down on the couch.”
Carefully, he moves their popcorn bowls and phones, setting them quietly on the coffee table.
Incredibly slowly, he slides out from beneath her and lowers her to the couch, resting her head on a throw pillow. Standing up, I grab my blanket and drape it over her, tucking her in. Retrieving a different blanket from the basket of them next to the TV stand, I wrap it around my shoulders.
Mason looks at me patiently, waiting for whatever my next move will be.
I jut my head toward the back door, suggesting the place that has gradually become our spot—the back porch swing. He nods and follows me outside, sitting directly next to me.
The sky is clear tonight, all of the stars in plain view, glowing overhead with not a cloud in sight. The temperature is perfect with the smallest amount of cool wind coming off of the water.
I’m really starting to wish that we didn’t have to move out of this place after this school year.
“What’re you thinking?” he asks, bumping his shoulder with mine.
Rocking us gently back and forth, I continue to stare at the lake over the wooden railing of the deck. “I just love it here. It’s peaceful. And I wish we could stay here.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mom only gave us the place for the first year, and then we have to move because she’s going to be selling it.”
“What?” he asks firmly. “To who?”
I rock us in the swing. “Well, we don’t know yet. But I’m sure someone will snatch this place up. It’s the best.”
“Hmm.” He gets lost in thought. “It’s better with you.”
His admission catches me off guard.
“Mason.”
“What?” he asks, turning to face me, his cheeks pink.
“You can’t say things like that,” I murmur, my gaze falling to my twiddling thumbs in my lap.
His hand slides under my chin, and he turns my head to look down at him.
“I shouldn’t tell you the truth? About how this place is beautiful but anyplace with you in it would be?
Or how I’ve thought about you every day since I left?
” He wets his lips and sits up taller, leaning closer to me.
“I’ve watched every sunset since that night because the fiery sky reminds me of you.
” Our bodies pull toward one another from some invisible connection.
“I’ve told myself all this time that I got over you, but the truth is, I never will, and I don’t want to. ”
The only word I can form on my lips yet again is his name. This time, it comes out sounding like a desperate plea. “ Mason .”
“You drive me crazy, Daphne.” Our foreheads gradually fall against one another. “Don’t overthink it tonight. Who knows what tomorrow will hold?” His warm breath hits my lips. “I just needed to tell you because it’s been eating me alive since I saw you again.”
I whisper against his parted lips, “You scare me, Mason.”
My heart thumps in my ears, blood pounding, mixing with the crickets and soft splashes of animals on the lake.
Screw it.
One moment.
This moment.
Consequences be damned.
In one swift movement, I roll my forehead and kiss him tenderly, feeling a spark at the touch. He doesn’t hesitate kissing me back, his hand slipping into my hair and yanking me closer, making the butterflies in my stomach soar to life.
Right now, we don’t care about anything other than us. We don’t care that we’re switched. That our lips aren’t our own. It doesn’t matter. Because the feelings are real regardless of who we are right now.
He kisses me like it might be the last time, and I’m not entirely sure that it won’t be.
There is no present or future, just a kiss. No promises, no expectations. This is just the breaking point of the tension that has been building between us since the minute I got here.
Pulling away ever so slightly, I rest my forehead against his, our breathing heavy and loud, echoing around us.
We don’t say anything to one another. Not because we don’t want to, but because we don’t need to.
He rests his head on my shoulder, and we rock in the chair until our eyes become heavy and the crickets are too loud to stand.
When we finally head to bed, my stomach twists into knots as I realize I have a new problem to face—I think I’m truly falling back in love with him, and I’m absolutely terrified.