CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MASON
I didn’t plan to walk over.
That was the first lie my brain tried to tell me.
Because I was already moving before I justified it.
The crowd shifted as I passed through it. Shoulders, voices, bodies turning slightly out of instinct when someone walks with purpose.
Jace called something after me—I didn’t hear it properly.
Didn’t care.
Rowan was still at the bar.
Luca beside her.
Too close for a conversation that meant nothing.
Too relaxed for one that did.
I stopped a few steps away.
Not in it yet.
But close enough that the air changed.
Rowan felt it first.
Of course she did.
Her head turned slightly before her body did.
Then she saw me.
That pause between recognition and reaction lasted longer than it should’ve.
Luca noticed immediately.
“Friend of yours?” he asked her.
Before she could answer—
I spoke.
“Yeah.”
One word.
Not loud.
Not soft.
Just final enough to take space.
That was mistake number one.
ROWAN
The moment he said it, the air shifted.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that I stopped pretending I wasn’t aware of everything at once.
Mason was standing there like he didn’t just cross half a rooftop to get here.
Like it was normal.
Like I was the one out of place.
Luca looked between us.
Slowly.
Like he was reading something without subtitles.
“Oh,” he said lightly. “Didn’t realise there was context here.”
“There isn’t,” I said automatically.
That was mistake number one.
Because Mason’s gaze tightened slightly.
Not angry.
Controlled.
But sharper than before.
“You always say that,” he said.
I frowned. “Say what.”
“That nothing has context.”
That landed differently than it should’ve.
Luca glanced at me again.
Then at Mason.
Then smiled slightly like he’d stepped into a conversation he wasn’t supposed to fully understand.
“I’ll grab another drink,” he said.
And just like that—
he left.
LUCA
He didn’t push.
That was rule one.
You don’t interrupt whatever that is.
Not when it has weight.
Not when it has silence built into it.
The guy—Mason—wasn’t subtle about it.
Didn’t need to be.
The tension wasn’t loud.
It was structural.
So I stepped away.
Not because I was asked.
Because I wasn’t needed there.
And honestly—
that was interesting enough on its own.
ROWAN
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
Mason didn’t move closer yet.
Just stayed where he was.
“I didn’t do anything,” he replied.
That was becoming a pattern with him.
Denying everything he clearly chose.
“You walked over,” I said.
“I was already here.”
“That’s not true.”
That got a pause.
Not defensive.
Measured.
Then:
“You were standing with him,” he said.
I blinked. “So?”
“So I came over.”
Like that explained it.
Like it was obvious.
I exhaled slowly. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is,” he said. “Just not one you like.”
MASON
She was watching me properly now.
Not casually.
Not distracted.
That version of her had been missing for most of the night.
And I didn’t like how much I noticed the difference.
“You don’t get to do that,” she said.
“Do what.”
“Act like it matters who I’m talking to.”
That hit slightly differently than I expected.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it wasn’t.
I leaned slightly against the bar.
Not close.
Not distant.
Just there.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
That should’ve ended it.
It didn’t.
Because I didn’t move away.
And neither did she.
ROWAN
There it was again.
That contradiction.
His words never matched his presence.
“You’re doing that thing again,” I said quietly.
“What thing.”
“Controlling everything except what you’re actually doing.”
That got a reaction.
Small.
But real.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Not anger.
Recognition.
“You don’t like that I’m here,” he said.
That made me pause.
Because it wasn’t framed like a question.
It was observation.
I looked at him properly.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
That should’ve shut me up.
It didn’t.
“I don’t mind you being here,” I said.
“That’s not the same thing.”
He nodded once.
Slow.
Like he agreed.
But didn’t relax.
MASON
That answer sat wrong.
Not because it was negative.
Because it wasn’t complete.
Rowan never spoke in full edges.
Always partial truths.
Like she was testing what she could say without changing anything.
Music hit harder behind us now.
The crowd moved again.
But we didn’t.
That was the problem.
Everything around us was unstable.
We weren’t.
“I saw you talking to him,” I said.
She blinked once.
Then again.
“That’s not a sentence,” she replied.
“It is for me.”
That made her go quiet for a second.
Not uncomfortable.
Just thinking.
Then:
“You don’t like what?” she asked. “That I talked to him?”
That question should’ve been simple.
It wasn’t.
Because the answer wasn’t clean.
So I said the closest thing to truth without naming it:
“I don’t like not knowing what it means.”
That shifted something.
Not her expression.
The space.
ROWAN
That was the first honest thing he’d said all night.
And it wasn’t even about me.
It was about control again.
Always control.
“You don’t get to know everything,” I said.
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
That landed.
He didn’t respond immediately.
Because I think that one actually hit.
The idea that knowing wasn’t optional for him.
It just… defaulted.
Then he said quietly:
“I don’t ignore things.”
“That’s not the same as understanding them,” I said.
Silence.
Not heavy.
Just real.
LUCA
From across the bar, I watched it.
Not the words.
The distance.
Or lack of it.
Whatever they were, it wasn’t casual.
The girl—Rowan—didn’t step back.
Neither did he.
That wasn’t flirting.
That was something else.
Something structured.
I grabbed my drink.
And for the first time tonight—
I stopped thinking about joining the conversation at all.
Because some things weren’t meant to be entered.
Only observed.
ROWAN
Mason finally shifted slightly.
Not away.
Not closer.
Just enough to reset the balance.
“You should enjoy the night,” he said.
That almost made me laugh.
Almost.
“Is that your version of letting go?” I asked.
“It’s practical.”
“That’s your answer for everything.”
“It works.”
That made me look at him again.
Properly.
For a second too long.
And I noticed something I didn’t earlier.
He wasn’t relaxed.
Not even slightly.
Just controlled enough that it looked like he was.
That mattered.
More than I wanted it to.
MASON
She noticed.
I could tell.
Rowan always noticed the wrong detail first.
That was the problem.
She wasn’t reacting to what I said.
She was reacting to what I wasn’t showing.
And I didn’t like that she could see it.
“I’m going back,” I said.
Not abrupt.
Not soft.
Just decision.
She nodded slightly.
“Okay.”
No argument.
That should’ve been relief.
It wasn’t.
Because I didn’t move immediately.
Neither did she.
And for a second—
we just stood there.
In a room full of noise.
Not part of it.
Not outside it.
Just… separate.
Together.
Then I left.