Chapter 11 - Bryce #3
I held my breath, watching him to see how he’d react. I waited for the Mason I knew to laugh, to wave me off, to smirk and say something humiliating. Freak. It's not enough that you take up the entire sidewalk, but you’re a freak with visions now?
My face burned as I shoved that thought down.
You think anyone will believe you? Get out of my face, Bryce.
Still, none of those things that I feared so bad came.
Instead, Mason met my gaze, nothing but sincerity in them.
Inch by inch, he shifted closer. For the first time in years, my first instinct wasn’t to back away, to put space between us.
Instead, I clenched my fists at my side and realized that, beneath his gaze, my thoughts didn’t stray to how much space I took up on the sofa.
“Don’t push yourself,” he murmured. “And don’t blame yourself for anything you haven’t seen clearly.
Clairvoyance is slippery, and if you can help the pack, that’s only ever your choice.
I’d never pressure you into being around them more than you have to coincidentally be.
I’m trying to make my pack better; for the most part, they are.
You don’t have to trust them, but I’d like to think that one day you can trust me again. At the very least, trust Jackson.”
So many secrets, all tangled up within one another, a web that I’m in the center of.
“He’s seen enough, and he’s been as angry as I.”
That comparison shuddered through me, and I nodded.
I did not cringe when he came closer, but I let myself breathe, to wait for what would happen when he got close enough.
Was it because he was being kinder to me than he ever had been?
Was it the fact that I had been dreaming about this version of Mason for as long as I could remember?
My judgment clouded, and I realized how exhausting it was to resist Mason.
How I didn’t want to. At least not in this moment.
God, I had missed him.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and his hand lifted. This time, he didn’t lower it. He kept reaching for me, and my breath anchored in my throat. Every sense filled with him, the alpha that had fleetingly been mine. The alpha that had fathered my daughter.
“Mason.” My voice was a bare brush of breath, and yet Mason’s eyes closed, as if he had waited to hear me say his name like that for too long.
I leaned in, as he did. I couldn’t help but look at his full mouth, those lips that had once uttered the worst things I’ve ever heard—those same lips that had once groaned my name into my ear.
So many conflicting emotions went through me, yet I still leaned in, wanting him, needing him—
“Hello!” June’s voice rang out as the front door opened, flying open. Mason and I sprang apart.
Mason cleared his throat, smiling at June, all innocent. “Hey, June.”
“Hey, yourself.” She smirked, catching my eye as she sauntered in. “Sorry to barge in. Old habits. Jackson hates it when I crash the place, so I tend to do it more.”
“Figures.” Mason looks at me, and I can’t believe I detect a hint of embarrassment at being caught.
Caught almost kissing the fat girl, I tell myself… yet, the words don’t strike as true as they usually do. Yet that age-old worry still nestles in me. He’s confident—who did he think might come in and find us?
“Mason was just leaving,” I said quickly, standing up, but I felt fingers reach out to snag my wrist.
“Actually, I wasn’t.” I turned to find him holding onto me, his eyes intense, not daring to look away from me for a second.
“I’m sure you have better things—”
“I was coming to do some work here,” June interrupted, closing the door behind her.
As if she were at home here, she walked into the kitchen, still talking as I heard the clang of a mug.
The coffee pot began to whir, reminding me of my own untouched drink on the table.
“I can’t really focus at the museum right now, so I figured I’d come here.
If you two are headed out, I can watch Cassie. Get acquainted with my goddaughter.”
“Goddaughter?” I laughed.
“Well, we joked about it once, right?” There was that spark of hurt in her face as she smiled at me, but it was a sad sort, and I was hit with more guilt for what I’d kept my best friend out of.
She was right. We’d stayed up talking for hours most nights, dreaming of the days when we had a family of our own, cubs to look after, a mate to always protect us and love us no matter what.
We’d laughter, once, back when I hadn’t realized just how deep my insecurities would become, that we were too strange to ever fall in love with.
“Yeah,” I say, warmth spreading through my chest. “We did.”
“So, can I babysit her?”
“She’s asleep, so as long as you make sure you’re here if she wakes up and needs anything…”
“I’ll bore her right back to sleep with the history of Honeycreek’s historical gala.”
I couldn’t help my laughter; it burst out of me, utterly uncontrolled and free, even around Mason. I caught him looking and didn’t want to think too hard about why he looked at me like that. Like… like there was only warmth in him for me, where once it had only been a cold, horrible hatred.
“All right,” I said to June. “But you’ll call me immediately if something happens?”
“Of course. This is what best friends are for. I can do more than let you copy my homework.”
“You did not copy June’s homework in school,” Mason smirked, looking me up and down. “Damn, Bryce, I didn’t think you were the type.”
There’s a lot about my type that you don’t know. I held the flirty quip back, my grin matching his, and only shrugged, letting myself feel bolstered.
“Wherever you go, have fun.” June winked at me as I passed her on my way out the door. She leaned in close, murmuring, “Remember, he’s a good guy, Bryce. Give him a chance.”
I stiffened, but something in me melted when Mason moved closer, herding me outside as June shut the door. His scent got stronger. Leather, smoke, and pine, as if he were the very town itself. I bit my lip, trying not to breathe him in too strongly.
“What did you want to do?” I asked.
“Well, I wanted to originally suggest dinner, but I want to respect your boundaries,” he said, once again surprising me.
“I’m surprised you know what that word means,” I muttered, more out of habit than anything with true bite. Still, he flinched. “I’m sorry—”
“No, no, I deserve it,” he said quickly. “No dinner, then. I know you like dancing, but… I remember you running track back in school.”
“You do not.” Despite myself, I gasped at him. “I thought you, of all people, would have conveniently forgotten that about me. You know what they say about fat people and sports. Nobody believes it.”
“Well, I do.” He shrugged. “There’s no rule to sports.” Mason paused, grinning at me for a moment before he started to jog. Not down the road, where I feared we’d be seen, but towards the back of Jackson’s house, into the woods. “Come on, track girl.”
Track girl. The name jolted something in me. Mason, on the bleachers of the town’s small high school, one elbow propped on his knee. How fast can you run, track girl? He’d called that out to me.
Faster than you, quarterback, I’d called out, rolling my eyes, heading for the locker rooms.
Not a quarterback, he’d quipped. I’m on the—
I’d not found out in that moment that he’d actually been on the wrestling team in high school because some of the pack had approached, slinging bags and jackets to where Mason sat. All of them had hooted, laughing at me.
How does a fat girl make the track team? One of them, a faceless, nameless man I couldn’t remember anymore, but the words had never faded, had shouted. Tell me, do your thighs jiggling everywhere only serve as propellers, or do they slow you down? More surface area, and all that.
I’d walked away, humiliated, crying as I stormed into the locker rooms. I remembered my mom trying to get me to eat that night, and I refused.
The next day I had, too, until my stress had barrelled through me the following day again, sat in my car in the meadow, eating my way through a pizza and an extra-large chocolate pie.
It had always only made me feel more miserable.
“Bryce?” Mason prompted.
Did he remember that day? Was he doing it on purpose?
“We don’t have to run,” he said, and he didn’t look at my body, as if thinking of my size, as if wondering if I was capable of it. He said it as if he recognized something in me, in the same way, he’d offered not to go to the meadow.
But I couldn’t live in the shadow of my past torment forever.
I wanted to live. The pack’s past ways had taken enough from me already. I needed to be unapologetic.
“Yeah,” I said, determined. “Yeah, let’s goddamn run.”
Leaving Mason silenced with surprise at my intent, I ran past him, keeping myself steady yet fast. It was merely seconds before he caught up.