23. Mason
MASON
The morning I’d woken to Lilah in my bed had been one of the best of my life. With a slightly embarrassed dip of her chin and mumble about morning breath, she’d been even more breathtaking in my clothes.
Zoe’s shocked face when she came downstairs for pancakes and asked if we’d had a sleepover had been funny. With all her excitement, there was no way Alena wasn’t going to know when she got back.
Instead of worrying about it, I’d finished making the pancakes with extra chocolate chips for Zoe and walked Lilah to her door. I hadn’t wanted to let her go, but she’d had a test to study for on Monday.
And now the payment was due for that morning of laughter, lightness and Lilah.
My father held up his glass of vodka to catch the dim light from his desk. The hearth was stone-cold as usual. I’d been let into the office, but even with the ten-foot ceilings, the air inside choked me.
“Perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you all these years.”
I stood with my hands behind my back in front of him where he sat in his leather chair. He’d finally let me in on the second day of my sentry duty once he’d returned after Thanksgiving with Alena and Bair.
“Do you think I have been too soft on him, Bair?” our father asked.
Bair sat in the other large leather chair. There was a third, but I hadn’t been invited to sit.
Bair also held a glass of vodka but hadn’t sipped it. Seemed messed up that our father had given it to him, but Bair knew better than to drink it.
This was just like all the other times I hadn’t been good enough to get out on the ice with them and had to sit on the bench until I was ready.
A few weeks ago, before our conversation at the pool, I’d have been foaming at the mouth with rage, ready to replace Bair in the seat. Ready to tear him apart on the ice until there was nothing left to even sit beside our father.
But looking at my half brother, truly looking at him, he wasn’t basking in his place of glory beside our father.
He was no happier to be here than I was.
Bair made a noncommittal noise in response to our father’s question.
“Perhaps that too expensive school and all my travel has made him lazy and weak.”
“Perhaps he made a mistake and knows better now,” Bair offered, but didn’t look at me. It was probably the kindest thing he’d ever said about me in front of someone.
Our father took a sip from his glass, seeming to relish the harsh flavor, and leveled his eyes at me for the first time. “So it seems you both need to be reminded of what I require.”
He pushed up out of his chair.
We both followed, grabbing our gear, no orders necessary. Compliance without question. That was the only way to lessen whatever came next.
Our silent car ride to the practice rink brimmed with spiraling tension.
I looked at Bair in the passenger seat beside our father, jaw twitching and staring straight ahead.
What hold did our father have over Bair?
Over the past six years, the thought had never crossed my mind.
Maybe going against our father had never been an option for him either.
I’d never even considered it. There was safety in obedience.
Security in making our father proud. Not only for me, but for my mom and Zoe.
Before this summer, my gratitude and drive to show him I wasn’t the replaceable son had kept me from ever entertaining the idea of deviating from the path he laid out before me.
His stern, leveled gaze and single head nod of praise—I’d starved for those rare glimpses of approval under the weight of his expectations. But now, I had more.
Lilah taking my hand. Lilah kissing me. Lilah in my bed.
I repeated the mantra in my head when my lungs burned, my skin split and my blood flowed onto the ice.
“Has your mother’s weakness infected you so deeply?” Dad gripped my hair at the scruff of my neck, tugging my head higher when each breath was a blade stabbing between my ribs.
His mention of her felt like a punch. He never brought her up. Arrangements were made behind the scenes and she had what she needed. Was this a threat?
All he wanted was the win. I’d embarrassed him.
I had to ensure he had no reason to doubt my ability to win, no matter the cost. Zoe and my mother shouldn’t suffer because of my mistakes.
So I wouldn’t make any more. I could have Lilah and still give my father what he wanted.
Who I saw off the ice? That didn’t matter.
I’d prove to him Lilah wasn’t a distraction.
I’d win—whatever it took—as long as it meant I could keep her by my side.
With four days until my next game, I desperately hoped I’d be able to move properly. The plunge into the ice bath after I dragged myself off the rink was stabbing needles of pain straight to my nervous system. My teeth chattered.
Bair’s jaw clenched. He didn’t allow his to chatter. Show-off.
Before, this would’ve been another reason to hate him, but he glanced over at me and offered a reassuring nod.
The bruise under his eye was slowly spreading. “That’s going to look like shit tomorrow.”
“The ladies love it.” He smirked and winced before dunking his head under the water. Bubbles escaped through the cubes of ice. After seconds crept closer to a minute, the bubbles stopped. Worry spiked and I rose from my own bath.
He shot up with a gasp and tilted his head in curiosity when I sank back into the numbing bath of pain. “Worried about me, little brother?”
I rolled my eyes, but the words didn’t make me want to take a swing at him. We were in this together.
When we got back to school on Monday, I was still sore and winced when I moved too quickly, but I’d never doubted my choice.
My ribs ached when I draped my arm around Lilah’s shoulder while we walked down the hallway, and I’d never felt better.
Lilah had finally forgiven me. Not only forgiven me but was with me.
I hadn’t uttered the word dancing on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t want to scare her.
She patted my chest, her brows crinkled with concern. “Are you okay?”
I kissed her temple. “More than okay.”
Paige rushed up to us. “It’s a masked night in Venice! Do you think they’ll rent a gondola? Oh god, we’ve only got five months to get a dress made.”
Lilah laughed at Paige. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
The Hawthorne Prep prom was always an over-the-top bullshit event. People weren’t happy to just get dressed up and go to a dance. No, there would be prom-posals, custom costumes, horse-drawn carriages and more.
“What about you?” Paige’s gaze flicked to me, then focused on Lilah.
“The tickets are expensive. And I don’t think I’ve got a Venetian ball gown laying around anywhere. But I know you’re going to look spectacular.” Lilah linked her arm with Paige’s, tugging me along.
The sharp pull yanked at my shoulder and stole my breath. I swallowed down the pain. And ideas popped off in my head about how much Lilah deserved a little over the top. I glanced over at Paige, who seemed to have gotten the mental note.
Lilah was going to prom, she just didn’t know it yet. I’d have to put the pieces in place. So many plans when it came to Lilah. And suddenly, the six months left in the school year weren’t enough for all those plans. I needed more time.
The words of Dane Larson rang in my head along with Bair’s, creating a new melody I’d never allowed myself to hear before.
It sang of more than my father’s approval. How could that coexist in the world I’d always wanted? But this new idea was dangerous. This wasn’t only about me. Zoe’s future and my mom’s were in his hands. I’d always seen that as a gift, a relief, but now it knotted my stomach with gnarled twists.
I found myself in front of Lilah’s house needing to see her. It had been a day since I’d seen her. My next game meant a night away. Too long. Now that she had let me close, being apart was like leaving a limb behind. It all felt wrong.
My breath gathered in clouds in front of my face. My backpack hung heavy off the shoulder that didn’t ache.
After my second knock, the door opened, but Lilah kept the door mostly closed, her head down, not meeting my eyes.
“Now’s not a great time, Mason.” Her voice was muffled from a stuffy nose and her cheeks were red, shiny.
“Then you shouldn’t have answered the door.”
“I figured you’d just keep knocking. And my head already hurts enough.”
I stepped forward and reached for her, but she stepped back. “What’s wrong?” I ignored the barb in my chest, a deep unsettling jab.
She hadn’t complained of headaches in a while.
“Is it your head? From the concussion?”
“No, nothing to do with that. I just need some time alone now.” She covered the side of her face under the pretense of rubbing at her eye, but she was hiding.
I gently took her chin.
She resisted, but I wasn’t letting go.
I turned her to face me and shock hit me. I needed to be strong, steady for her. “How come you always seem to be crying when I come to your door?”
Bloodshot eyes, a red nose and her lips trembled. A choked, broken laugh escaped.
“Lilah, what happened?”
“I didn’t get in.”
“To your dream school?”
She flapped her hands at her side. “To any of them.” Then her knees buckled.
I grabbed her and held her against my chest.
Her fingers clutched at my shirt as she broke down. Crying, full-body trembling.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, shifted us inside and kicked the door closed behind me.
After setting my bag down and kicking off my shoes, I got into the big chair in the corner, moved some annoying plants away and arranged Lilah on my lap.
She hadn’t let go of me and the helplessness at her pain flayed me.
I rubbed her back and rested my cheek on the top of her head until her never-ending tears turned to sniffles.
I picked up a box of tissues off the window ledge and handed them to her with helplessness burning in my chest.
“Thanks.” She kept her head down and blew her nose three times.
Arms around her, I rocked her back and forth. “How many more applications do you have out there?”
“That was it.”
“All of them rejected you?”