Chapter Sixteen
M y stomach has been full of butterflies. I’m losing my mind, and I haven’t decided if I’m happy about it or not.
I’m so torn on what to do with Mason.
On one hand, I’m pissed off that he thinks he can simply jump back into my life since we switched back. Just because we solved that problem doesn’t mean that our connection will stay the same.
We were forced to be close. If it had been up to me from the beginning, I would’ve told him to screw off.
But then we kissed on the porch, and he made me orange chicken and ice cream, knowing damn well the way to my heart is through my stomach. Suddenly, the clear vision I had for my future is now all muddled.
That’s why I’ve been skating around the rink for an hour, trying to clear my head, which has been a royal failure. If anything, it’s just spiraled my thoughts more, leaving me more confused than when I started.
But now I have to head home and help Maeve pick the house up for dinner later.
Apparently, the guys on Mason’s team had such a fun time last week, having Sunday dinner at our house, that they asked if they could come over this weekend, too, and for some reason, Maeve said yes. Without asking me, might I add.
I gave her some grace though, knowing if I wasn’t extra irritable from my period, I more than likely would have agreed to it just to see her smile.
I know she’s always said that she’s on my side when it comes to Mason, but he’s also her brother, and they’ve been super close their entire lives. So, it’s not just a dinner for the team, but a dinner for the Holts. I’m not going to take that away from either of them.
Skating off the ice, I stop by my bag and quickly take a couple of Midol, hoping it’ll help with the rest of these cramps that should fade over the next day or so.
My phone rings as I sit down to undo my laces. I see my mom’s name, who has been unusually quiet as of late. But I’ve been busy, so I didn’t think too much about it.
“Hey, Mom,” I answer her.
“Hey, peanut. What’re you up to?”
I can hear sticks and pucks hitting the ice in the background.
“Just about to head home. Got a little skate time in this morning.” I tuck the phone into my shoulder to free up my other hand to stow my skates into my duffel before heading out.
“That’s amazing, honey. Having a good time there? Any problems?” she asks, and I notice a nervous pitch in her voice, wondering the real reason she’s calling.
Is she just building up the courage to say what’s on her mind by making small talk?
“Going really well.” Aside from spending the last week in Mason’s body. “The kids are good, and I’m loving all of the ice time.” Including playing goalie for a day. “What about you?”
Her voice cracks on the first word. “Oh, I’m doing really great. I wanted to talk to you about something since I’ve got you here.”
Oh, I know. I’ve been able to read her like a book since I was a kid. She’s never been able to hide anything from me.
I step outside and walk toward my vehicle as she continues.
“I, uhh … I started seeing someone actually.” Her anxiety bleeds into her words, but I don’t know why she’s so nervous. I only want her to be happy.
“Mom, that’s amazing!” I say with a smile. “Tell me about him. Is he nice? Handsome?”
I unlock my Jeep and hop inside, starting it right away and rolling my window down. I like to feel the wind on my hand when I drive.
Hooking my phone to its holder on my dash, I put her on speaker and pull out of my parking spot to head home.
“His name is Heath. He’s very kind. A real gentleman. Funny.” I can see the hearts in her eyes as she talks. “I met him at the rink. He’s actually a coach for the college hockey team here. We hit it off right away.”
My grin is uncontrollable when I hear the joy in her voice. “Good! That’s great, Mom! You deserve to be happy.”
“I am,” she murmurs. “What about you? Any new updates for me?”
“On my love life? Nope, not really.” I ignore the image of Mason that butts its way into my mind.
She doesn’t buy it, somehow reading my thoughts. “Even with Mason?”
“Yes,” I groan. “Even with him. Especially with him. I don’t even like him—like, at all.” I force the words through my teeth, knowing damn well that every word is a lie.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Nope.” I huff, fighting an embarrassed smile.
She chuckles. “Well, I’m here if you ever need to. You know that.”
“I know,” I murmur, pulling into the driveway of the house. “But I just got home. Is it okay if I call you later?”
“Of course. Have fun. Be safe.” She goes through our usual hang-up routine. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I end the call with a smile.
At least Mason’s truck isn’t here right now so I can avoid him for a little while longer until he and his team start showing up.
Holy mother of God, who let that man come back here without a shirt? Oh shit, this is going to be so bad.
Somehow, the team dinner turned into a team lake party, and after dinner, all of the guys are now in swim trunks, fighting over the paddleboat, kayaks, and trying to make the biggest cannonball off of the dock. I swear I’ve never seen so many abs in one place.
Mason, who I successfully avoided all dinner, had to run to his place to let Chet in, who had apparently forgotten his house key somewhere, making Mason show up later than the rest, and thank God for that. It’s giving me more time to prepare to see him again.
But I certainly wasn’t ready for him to show up in slutty, short little swim trunks with every ridge and muscle of his body on full display. I mean, the thighs … are you kidding me?
Maeve giggles next to me, and I turn to find her staring at me with a cunning smile and sparkling eyes.
“Do you need a napkin for your drool?”
I shove her shoulder and tear my gaze from the window. “Fuck off.”
She bursts out laughing. “Why are you both so intent on pretending you’re not meant to be together?”
“ Maeve ,” I exhale. “What happened to I don’t need him and I deserve better ?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this. I mean, the way he looks at you, Daph.” She swoons. “It’s straight out of any movie on our list. That has to account for something.”
The front door swings open, and Mason walks through, interrupting our conversation. Silence falls on the room. My stomach flips as his eyes lock with mine, devouring me whole.
Maeve pats my arm and giggles. “Good luck with that.”
“I hate you,” I murmur and mean-mug her before she walks away.
“Hi, Mason,” she greets him as he walks into the kitchen, where I’m cutting up a watermelon.
They have a quiet conversation that I can’t hear over the music playing on the dual speakers—one in the house and one out back.
Maeve saunters toward the back door and runs outside, straight into Jackson’s arms. Apparently, everyone in my life is falling in love and finding their special someone, even my mom.
Am I the dumb main character who doesn’t realize the love she’s spent her entire life looking for has been right here all along? Nope, not me.
Mason closes the distance between us, stopping at my side and leaning his back against the counter, with his annoyingly large and strong arms crossed over his chest.
He turns his head and looks down at me, doing little to hide it.
“Can I help you with that staring problem?” I ask snarkily.
He grins and bites down on his lip. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
I glare up at him through the side of my eye. Then I look back down at the melon, cutting the other half up into pieces and putting them in the big bowl before turning back to him.
Don’t flirt back. Don’t flirt back.
“Excuse me.”
I bump his hip with mine, and his fingers reach for my side. He’s blocking the sink I need, and he knows it. His thumb strokes the exposed skin above my waistband, and fireworks ignite in my stomach.
Oh God, that tiny touch shouldn’t make me feel like that .
“I need to get to the sink,” I tell him, holding the knife up in the air in a threatening way.
He eyes it playfully, cocking his head to the side. “What do you plan on doing with that? Stabbing me?”
I shrug and smile. “Maybe. If you don’t move.”
“Fine,” he grunts and pushes off the counter.
Keeping his hand on my waist, he spins himself around me, his free hand closing around my other hip, positioning himself fully behind me as I lean over to the sink.
A shiver runs up my spine as his bare chest grazes my back, my ass flat against his front.
My hips sway in the slightest, and I suck in a gasp at the contact of his hardening dick.
I think I might actually combust.
“Are you going to pretend like you don’t see me all night, like you did at dinner?” His voice is rough and deep.
I shrug and drop the knife into the sink. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”
He clicks his tongue. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.
“Mase!” someone shouts from outside. “Hurry up! I need a teammate!”
They set cornhole up and started a tournament—because, of course, they can’t just casually play. It has to be a competition. Mix alcohol and bets into it, and it’s a whole other level of intense.
“You’d better get going,” I murmur teasingly, my stare glued to the way his hands are wrapped around my waist, his fingers digging in ever so slightly as I struggle to catch my breath.
His exhale hits my hair, and I jump back into him. A cocky chuckle vibrates from his lips to the shell of my ear.
“I’m right where I want to be.”
The urge to grind my ass into him is taking over my thoughts, even more so at his confession. Am I affecting him as much as he’s affecting me? I know that if I pushed back into him, I could have him melting in the palm of my hand.
“I think your teammate might not appreciate that,” I murmur.
He presses his lips against my ear. “Maybe I want you to be my teammate.” His big fingers trail up the bare skin of my side.
I wince. “I can’t though.”
He gasps, acting hurt as his hand digs into my hip. “Why’s that?”