CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
MASON
I shouldn’t have been waiting for her reply.
But I was.
Standing outside the gym with my bag slung over one shoulder, pretending I wasn’t checking my phone every ten seconds like an idiot.
Luca came out behind me and immediately clocked it.
“You look pathetic,” he said.
“Go away.”
“Is she home yet?”
“I said go away.”
That was enough confirmation for him.
He grinned. “You’re actually cooked.”
I started walking before he could keep talking.
The air outside was cold enough to wake me up a bit, which was probably necessary.
Coach’s voice was still in my head.
“You’re playing like someone waiting to disappoint people.”
Yeah.
That one stuck.
My phone buzzed.
Finally.
Rowan:
I’m home.
Stop acting like a paranoid dad.
I exhaled a little without meaning to.
Then typed:
Mason:
Good.
Three dots.
Rowan:
That’s it? “Good”?
I stopped walking for a second.
Yeah.
That did sound stupid.
Mason:
You got home safe.
That’s the point.
Typing bubbles.
Longer this time.
Rowan:
You’re weird.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Mason:
Heard that before.
ROWAN
Serena was already waiting for me when I got back.
Not literally waiting.
But emotionally? Absolutely.
She was on my bed, scrolling my laptop like she paid rent.
“You made it home alive,” she said.
“Thanks for the dramatic greeting.”
“You have a problem.”
“I have many problems.”
She turned the screen toward me.
My search history was open.
New York internship requirements.
Mason Reed stats.
Mason Reed interviews.
I froze.
“Okay,” I said slowly, “you’re insane.”
Serena grinned. “You did that.”
“I was researching.”
“Uh-huh.”
I dropped my bag on the floor. “Stop being weird.”
“You’re the one texting him at midnight like a Victorian love story.”
“It’s not—”
My phone buzzed again.
I looked down automatically.
Mason.
Serena immediately leaned closer. “Oh my God, he’s addicted.”
“He’s not addicted.”
Another buzz.
Mason:
You sleeping?
Serena made a noise like she was watching a soap opera.
I shoved her shoulder lightly. “Go away.”
She refused.
I typed:
Rowan:
No.
Immediate reply.
Mason:
Good.
Again with that.
I frowned slightly.
Rowan:
Why do you keep saying that?
Typing bubbles.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
Because I don’t like the idea of you walking around alone at night.
That hit differently than I expected.
Not romantic.
Not dramatic.
Just… steady.
Like it was obvious.
MASON
I stared at my own message for a second after sending it.
Probably too honest.
Luca walked past me in the hallway of my apartment building.
“You’re smiling again,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Leave me alone.”
He leaned against the wall. “Coach is gonna bench you if you keep playing like this.”
“I know.”
“Your dad’s gonna explode if he hears about it.”
“I know that too.”
Luca paused. “So what’s the actual problem?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because there wasn’t a clean answer.
Finally:
“I’m not off my game because of basketball.”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
I exhaled through my nose. “It’s everything else that won’t shut up.”
That was the closest I’d come to saying it out loud.
He nodded slowly like that actually made sense.
Which somehow made it worse.
ROWAN
I sat on my bed still holding my phone.
Serena had finally given up pretending she wasn’t listening and left the room dramatically like she was offended by my emotional development.
I should’ve been working on my portfolio.
Instead I was staring at Mason’s messages.
Mason:
Don’t do that again.
I frowned.
Rowan:
Do what?
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
Make me think you didn’t get home safe.
That one made my stomach tighten slightly.
Not in a dramatic way.
Just noticeable.
I leaned back against the wall.
Rowan:
You’re not my dad.
Almost instantly:
Mason:
Thank God.
I actually laughed.
Then stopped.
Because why did that feel… comfortable?
That was the problem lately.
Everything with him was starting to feel weirdly normal.
Like it had always been there.
Which didn’t make sense.
At all.
MASON
I didn’t sleep properly.
Again.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Coach’s face.
Then my dad’s voice.
Then Rowan’s stupid messages.
All layered together like noise I couldn’t shut off.
At 3:12 a.m., my phone buzzed again.
I didn’t even hesitate this time.
Rowan:
Are you awake or do I have a texting problem?
I stared at it for a second.
Then typed:
Mason:
Both are possible.
Three dots.
Rowan:
Good answer.
Then:
Rowan:
You always like this?
I frowned slightly.
Mason:
Like what.
Long pause.
Rowan:
Like you’re carrying something heavy all the time.
That stopped me.
Completely.
Because that was too accurate for something she shouldn’t have known.
I didn’t answer right away.
For once.
I just stared at it.
And outside my window, the city kept moving like nothing mattered.
But for some reason—
this conversation did.