CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
ROWAN
Mason looked genuinely offended by the fact that everyone was enjoying this.
Which honestly made it funnier.
“You texted him first,” I repeated.
“I hate that this is becoming the headline.”
“Oh, it absolutely is,” Tessa said.
Luca lifted his drink. “To Mason Reed experiencing human emotion.”
“Fuck off,” Mason muttered.
Jace was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “No seriously, do you know how insane this is? This guy once left a date because she said astrology was ‘basically psychology.’”
“That is insane,” Mason argued.
“No, leaving is insane.”
“She said Capricorns struggle with intimacy.”
Tessa looked him dead in the eye. “Well…”
Luca lost it immediately.
Even Rowan laughed hard enough she had to grab the bar.
Mason looked at all of us like he regretted ever being born.
MASON
I should’ve stayed home.
That was the only conclusion here.
Rowan was still laughing beside me and somehow that made this entire humiliation worse.
Or better.
Didn’t really know anymore.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I told her.
She looked up at me, still smiling. “You’re surprisingly easy to bully.”
“That’s new.”
“No,” Jace said. “You’re just letting her do it.”
Oh.
Great.
Now that sentence was in the room.
Rowan’s smile faded a little at the same time Mason looked away.
Too aware again.
Every fucking time.
Tessa immediately clocked it.
“Okay,” she announced. “You two need alcohol or therapy. Maybe both.”
“We’re fine,” Rowan and Mason said together.
Luca pointed between them. “That was disgusting.”
ROWAN
The music changed again, louder this time.
Some early-2000s song everyone apparently knew except me.
The rooftop exploded instantly.
People yelling lyrics. Drinks in the air. Absolute chaos.
Tessa grabbed Luca’s hand. “Come dance with me before these two start communicating through eye contact again.”
“We do not—” I started.
Too late.
They were already gone.
Jace looked between me and Mason.
Then sighed dramatically. “I can literally feel the tension in my fucking teeth.”
“Why are you like this,” Mason asked.
“I’m funny and observant. It’s a burden.”
Then he left too.
Just like that.
And suddenly it was quiet again.
Well.
Not actually quiet.
But quieter around us.
Mason leaned against the bar beside me. “I need better friends.”
“You picked them.”
“That feels unfairly victim-blamey.”
I snorted into my drink.
He looked at me immediately after.
That happened a lot now.
Every laugh. Every smile. Every reaction.
He noticed all of it.
And honestly?
I noticed him noticing.
MASON
Okay, this was bad now.
Because somewhere between the jokes and the drinks and the accidental touching earlier—
being around Rowan had started feeling easy.
Not simple.
Never simple.
But easier.
Which was probably more dangerous.
“You know what’s annoying?” she asked suddenly.
“Several things. Narrow it down.”
“You pretend you’re emotionally unavailable, but you actually pay attention to everything.”
I looked at her. “That’s not emotional.”
“You remembered I hate crowds.”
“That’s observant.”
“You texted your friend asking if I was coming.”
I exhaled slowly. “You’re really not letting that go, huh?”
“Absolutely not.”
Fair.
ROWAN
Mason’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He checked it once.
Then immediately looked irritated.
“What.”
“My dad.”
That mood shift was instant.
Like someone flipped a switch inside him.
Shoulders tighter. Face blanker.
I noticed it immediately.
“You don’t have to answer,” I said.
“I know.”
But he still looked at the screen again.
Didn’t open it.
Just stared at it for a second too long.
That was the first time all night he looked fully closed off again.
And weirdly—
I hated it.
“Bad timing?” I asked carefully.
Mason laughed once under his breath.
No humor in it.
“He’s good at that.”
Oh.
There it was.
The thing underneath him.
The thing that always sat there even when he acted fine.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket hard enough to make it obvious he was pissed.
Then looked at me like he regretted letting me see that.
Too late.
I already had.
MASON
I shouldn’t have reacted.
Especially not in front of Rowan.
But my dad only texted for three reasons:
Basketball. Reputation. Control.
Usually all three.
“You okay?” Rowan asked quietly.
There she went again.
Asking like she actually cared.
Dangerous.
“I’m fine.”
She gave me a look immediately.
“Right. Because that’s usually true.”
I huffed a laugh despite myself.
Then rubbed a hand over the back of my neck.
Tired suddenly.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
Her eyebrows pulled together slightly. “For what?”
“For ruining the mood.”
That sounded stupid out loud.
Rowan stared at me for a second.
Then:
“You know you don’t have to act normal every second of your life, right?”
That hit way harder than it should’ve.
Mostly because nobody really said shit like that to me.
Not directly.
Not honestly.
And the worst part?
For a second I almost answered honestly too.
ROWAN
He looked exhausted suddenly.
Not physically.
Just mentally tired in a way that made him seem older for a second.
And for the first time since I met him—
Mason didn’t look intimidating.
He just looked like a guy carrying too much shit.
That realization hit me right in the chest.
Which was bad.
Very bad.
“Hey,” I said before thinking too much about it.
Mason looked at me.
I reached up automatically and fixed the collar of his jacket where it had folded weird near his neck.
Tiny thing.
Barely anything.
Still—
the second my fingers brushed his skin, Mason went completely still.
So did I.
Fuck.
There it was again.