Chapter 39
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
Rory
Stifling a yawn I enter the kitchen to the smell of pancakes.
“You’re making me pancakes?” I blurt in awe at the sight of a shirtless Mascen standing over a griddle full of a variety of chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes.
He looks up from flipping a pancake. “I mean, we gotta eat.”
I slide onto one of the barstools, resting my elbow on the counter and my head in my hand. “That’s for sure.” I think back to last night and how after a short nap we were back at it again with another round early this morning. I drifted back to sleep and didn’t even notice when Mascen left the bed.
Mascen piles the stacks of pancakes high on a plate then starts to clean everything up.
“I can do that,” I protest, getting up. “You cooked.”
“You’re the guest,” he reminds me. “I’ve got it.” I’m ready to argue the matter further but then I think better of it. Mascen and I can both find reasons to bicker over everything, it’s time to rise above it. “Grab a plate.”
I pick up one of the empty plates he’d already put out and pile three chocolate chip pancakes on it, drenching them in syrup. He looks at me in surprise and I shrug innocently. “What? I’m starving.”
I sit back down where I was before, digging the side of my fork into one of the pancakes for a bite. The pancake is light and fluffy, the chocolate melting instantly on my tongue. “This is delicious.”
He grins, pleased by the praise. “Thanks, they’re my mom’s recipe.”
He fixes a plate with some of the blueberry pancakes, sitting beside me. His arm brushes against mine as he moves and he smiles.
I feel like it should be weird being here with Mascen, things being this easy and fun between us, but it’s not. Despite how things started out I think we were headed this way the entire time.
With breakfast done we clean up the last of the mess together despite his protests. Afterward, he grabs my hips, lifting me onto the counter so he can fit into the space between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I place my hands on his stomach as he comes closer.
“I don’t know. I was thinking I might kiss you.”
“That so?” I bite my lip to hide my growing smile. Things might’ve changed between us but that doesn’t mean I want to make everything easy for him, even a smile.
“Mhmm,” he hums, cupping the side of my right cheek in his left hand.
“What if I don’t want to kiss you?”
He arches a brow. “Then I won’t kiss you.”
He knows I’m playing, but he starts to pull away anyway. I grab the back of his neck. “Kiss me you idiot.”
“You’re the one who protested,” he reminds me a second before his lips touch mine.
Maybe because in the past I’ve only had hookups, I’ve never liked kissing too much. I’ve found it intimate, far more intimate than sex which might sound strange to some, but it’s the way I’ve felt. Kissing Mascen, though, feels natural.
The kiss doesn’t last long and I find myself wishing for more.
He lifts me off the counter and I look at him with a curious expression. “What do you want to do today?”
He gives a small shrug. “Anything we want.”
I’m amazed by how quickly time passes with Mascen. Before I know it two weeks of break have passed and Christmas is days away. The living room of his townhouse now boasts a sparkling Christmas tree after I begged him to go get one. I haven’t had a real Christmas tree in too long. Even though he protested I know he’s glad we got one and he definitely enjoyed decorating it.
Passing him a cup of hot chocolate I sit down on the couch and curl into his side.
“Mmm,” he hums upon tasting it. “That’s good.”
“I told you that you had to use milk, not water.”
“These marshmallows are so tiny.”
“Mini-marshmallows are for sure the way to go.” I take a sip of the hot chocolate I made for us after Mascen told me he hated it.
Setting the cup on the tray he put on the ottoman earlier, I stretch my legs out and lay my head in his lap. Almost immediately he starts brushing his fingers through my hair and my eyes grow heavy.
I can’t believe how content I’ve become with him. We still haven’t talked about what we’re doing, tried to put any labels on this. I think we’re both too stubborn and maybe too scared.
“If you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep.”
His fingers still for a moment before starting up their ministrations. “You wouldn’t dare fall asleep.”
“Why not?” I hold back my yawn which is a mighty task.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where?” I sit up slightly so I can look at him and his fingers fall from my hair.
“Just a place.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you always have to be so cryptic?”
He pokes my cheek. “It’s part of the fun.”
He starts to get up and I sit up completely. “Wait, we’re going somewhere now? What about our hot chocolate?”
“Bring it.”
I’m not about to leave my hot chocolate behind so I pick up the mug and follow him. I notice he leaves his and I think he might be lying about liking it this way.
In the garage he leads me to the truck. I’ve noticed it during my time here, obviously, but he’s never taken it out.
When we leave he still doesn’t say where we’re going. All he does is swing by a Burger King and order a sack of food and keep driving.
“Why the food?”
“We’re having a picnic.”
“It’s December,” I remind him. “It’s not exactly picnic conditions—not to mention it’s dark .”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
Eventually he turns off the main road and keeps driving for a ways before parking in a field.
“This is where you’re bringing me?”
“Yep.” He hops out, his boots colliding with the solid ground. He reaches back in for the drinks. “You wait here.”
A few minutes later, after digging things out of the backseat and jumping up into the truck bed he finally lets me see what he’s up to.
I find the truck bed full of blankets and pillows with our food and drinks in the middle.
“We won’t stay long,” he promises. “I know it’s cold, but I wanted to bring you here.”
He jumps up, holding a hand out to help me into the bed of the truck.
“I’m beginning to think you’re a bit of a romantic.”
Despite the darkness I swear he blushes. He adjusts the pillows and I finally sit down, pulling the bag of food close to me so I can get mine. I wasn’t hungry before but suddenly I’m starving and want this juicy greasy cheeseburger more than anything else in existence.
Passing the bag to Mascen he gets his out, lying it in his lap and stretching his legs out.
After we’ve each eaten a few fries, I finally ask, “What’s so special about this place?”
He swallows a bite of food. “It’s not really the place but the feeling.”
“What do you mean?” I pick up my burger for a taste, wiping the corner of my lip when ketchup gets there.
“I found this place by accident, but I’ve kept coming back. It’s quiet here and I’m alone with my thoughts, the good and the bad ones. But when I look up at the stars and see the entire universe I’m reminded I’m not alone. There’s something comforting in that.”
Tilting my head back I look up at the stars. The sky is clear, the stars above infinite. “I think I get what you mean. It’s impossible to feel alone when all of that exists and there’s so much more out there that we don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
I burrow into my sweatshirt more. There’s no snow on the ground, but there’s a slight wind which makes it feel colder than normal.
“During the fall and spring I can spend hours sitting right here.” He pats the space beside his leg. “Sometimes it’s hard to leave. Do you have a place like this?”
I shake my head. “No, I wish I did.”
“What about before? Where did you guys even move?”
“Florida. For some reason my mom thought the sunshine state would solve all her problems.” Picking up a fry I twirl it around between my fingers. “But no, even there I didn’t have a place to go to clear my head. Not like you have the treehouse and this.” I wave my hand to encompass the dark field.
“I wish you had.”
“Hey,” I pop the fry in my mouth, “I got out of there. I got this scholarship and I’m doing what I wanted. I won’t dwell on the past. That’s not good for anyone. It’s over and done with—no do overs. Obsessing over it won’t change, but I can change my future and that’s what I’ve been working to do for years. I want to be somebody, not to prove a point, but because I can . I want to improve others’ lives too so they don’t have to work as hard as I have.”
He stares at me for a moment, a peculiar look on his face. Finally he says, “You’re really something, you know that, Princess?”
“I’m nothing special.”
He looks into my eyes so intensely that I start to squirm. “You’re special to me.”
I blush, looking down.
One thing I remember my mom telling me before everything went to hell was if one person thinks you’re special then that’s worth more than all the gold in the world.
With the feeling that floods my chest I think she may have been right about that.