24. Lilah
LILAH
The weeks between Thanksgiving and the Christmas break blurred into a fuzzy jumble of final papers, projects and exams, as well as too many annoying texts from Rye.
In every other one, he detailed another reason I should stop seeing Mason.
Maybe that was why I hadn’t taken him up on the offer to stay at his house for the holiday.
Instead, I’d kept busy and studied until I fell asleep on my books, and when finals were done, I moved on to the regular admissions applications and a lot of Mason time.
Every minute with Mason was less of a distraction and more of a reward.
He drove me to school early every morning.
He was my sewing lab assistant if he wasn’t at practice.
Our trips down the hallway were less awkward by the day.
I even sat at the Havoc table for lunch the two days a week I wasn’t in the lab.
Most days Paige joined me and Natalie even sat with us a couple of times.
There was always a tray of food in front of my seat when I arrived with Mason. I wasn’t sure which of the guys he tasked with fetching a meal for me, but it only took one lunch of saying I wasn’t hungry before they all got down on their knees and loudly begged me to eat.
Nothing will get a girl stuffing her face like a whole dining hall watching four hockey players plead with you to eat some grilled chicken.
Suddenly, I had people interested in alterations and clothes made by me again. Small things, but the money didn’t hurt, and it occupied my mind. Deadlines met. Finals finished. Applications to every school that offered me a fee waiver completed.
Paige flipped through her favorite three prom dress designs. “I need to sign off on the design by the end of this week.”
Erik perked up. “What if you added wings? Those would be badass.”
“Thanks for that, Erik. Anyone else?” Paige showed off the sketches.
Galen shot the design on her tablet a quick glance, then his face reset. “What do girls like other than flowers?”
“Depends on the girl. What does she like?”
“Pissing me off,” he grumbled and went right back to his phone and coin twirling. Paige and I exchanged a look. Calder squinted and grunted.
Mason set down a cookie, then dragged me onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of my neck. “What kind of dress would you like?”
I laughed and squirmed at the ticklish brush of his lips across my skin. “I liked number two, Paige. The color brings out your hair.”
“Why are you ignoring me?” He nipped at my ear.
“Because you’re not getting me a dress.”
“What if I want to take you to prom?”
“I’m sure the guys would love to go with you.”
“Lilah,” he said in that growly warning tone that turned me to mush.
I jumped up and grabbed my bag. “Don’t want to be late. Come on, Paige.”
“This isn’t over, Lilah.”
I blew him a kiss and walked out with Paige.
I’d gotten a call from the counselor’s office that I was the top finalist for the premed Windsor Award. They’d wait until the deadline, but it should be mine as long as I kept my grades up, oh, and the small little detail of actually getting into a college.
The final decisions wouldn’t come out until the entire board met to sift through all the Hawthorne Prep students and everyone’s awards and scholarships for the final rubber stamp and to be sure no one doubled up on the full-ride awards.
But I hadn’t applied to any others, only the Windsor, so my thin file would be easy to handle.
On non-game nights, Mason hung out with me at home for a bit, but the house was cramped, especially with Kelsey hovering nearby anytime he came over. With Mason around, I was suddenly the most interesting, funny person she’d ever met, all while she inched closer to him.
Alena was having the pool deck redone, so we couldn’t even escape to the pool house.
Unlike Thanksgiving night, going to his house felt like a non-option. He never said no but hadn’t offered again. Had he gotten in trouble for having me over? Just in case, I didn’t bring it up.
I’d only seen Mr. Petrov three times. Each time, I’d wanted to leave his presence as quickly as I could.
How did someone as nice as Alena end up with him?
It probably had a lot more to do with the two-story custom closet, massive house, unlimited shopping and renovation budget and her limited-edition car, as opposed to his glowing personality.
And that woman was putting in the work, earning every penny.
The last time I’d seen him had been right after Thanksgiving, when I walked from my house to Rye’s car. Mr. Petrov’s car had been idling under the canopy of the covered driveway. With every step, it felt like ice cubes were being injected into my veins.
He’d leveled his steely gaze at me. The harsh shadows cut across his face and made him look like a suspense movie villain.
The way he watched me reminded me of the cold Mason, of how things had been only a couple months ago.
An unsettled feeling plunged through my gut and I’d tried not to look at him in the rearview mirror.
But I didn’t know if his dad was home or not, so I couldn’t fault Mason for not wanting to be wherever he was, although hanging out in my non-bedroom that provided no privacy wasn’t ideal.
I’d even gone to another Hawthorne Hawks game, which got me some grumbles from Rye.
Mason had smuggled Zoe’s presents out of the house, and I’d helped him wrap them, showing him some precise folding to give the gifts a magazine-cover look.
Zoe was a lucky kid to have a brother who cared about her as much as he did.
Sometimes we’d drive with no destination in mind. We might stop for food or he’d take me to the public library or a quiet coffee shop to study.
The weight of his gaze heated our little table. I didn’t look up from my notes, with the highlighter lines and annotations added. My half-finished café mocha was between us. Not my favorite so far on the coffee exploration Mason insisted on.
“You’re staring again,” I said.
“How can I not?”
“I don’t know. Self-control. You’re supposed to be studying too.” I tapped his tablet with my highlighter.
“I’d study better if I had something to look forward to.”
“Playing D1 hockey isn’t enough?”
“If I had a fan in the stands in Rhode Island…”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. Although as my admissions cycle remained acceptance-less, a flicker of interest in the school had popped up. “I’m not going to Rhode Island Design, Mason.”
“Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I’ve also thought about what happens if the bubonic plague has a resurgence.”
“Sexy.” He smirked.
“Why don’t you follow me wherever I get in?”
“In a heartbeat.” He captured my hand and stared at me as he ducked his head, lips brushing across the sensitive skin on the underside of my wrist.
“Very funny.” My whole body was consumed by raw, electric hunger. “You promised me twenty more minutes.”
“You’re right. I’ll be good.” He dragged his lips along my pulse point.
“I need my hand back.” A shiver danced down my spine.
He released me and sat back, still staring at me with that intense, heated gaze.
I squirmed in my chair, reading and rereading the same five lines until I finally gave up. “Let’s go.”
He scooped up all my stuff in one fluid motion and dropped it into my already open bag.
In the car, I was on his lap, both his hands cupping and squeezing my ass. “You must be pretty pleased with yourself.” My words were choppy, cut off by my panting, mewling need.
“You don’t know how hard I work to keep myself in check.” He devoured my mouth, filling me with a heady, euphoric flood that felt nowhere near enough.
I ground myself against his hardened length. “I can feel exactly how hard…”
I reached for the button of his jeans and he captured my wrist.
Then his hands were in my hair and he tugged me back to meet my eyes. “I’m not having sex with you in the back of this car.”
“Why not?” I pouted.
He smiled at me. “Because you deserve so much more than that.”
“I think millions of other girls are just fine with some backseat fun.”
“Yeah, but they’re not me and you.” He nipped my bottom lip.
How could I disagree with that? That wasn’t to say that over those weeks I didn’t become acquainted with every stitch of the Rover’s interior. We’d fogged up the windows so often, I swore the leather seats were waterlogged.
But the end of the year chaos had ground to a trickle of things to do and I was home alone.
The quiet of the break hit me harder than I expected with less to occupy my mind.
School was closed, so I couldn’t work on any of the four pieces I was supposed to complete.
The string of forced do-nothing days reminded me a lot of my concussion recovery time.
My dad had announced last night that he’d gotten tickets to a concert and left a couple hours later with a half hug and a pat on the back.
Had he even realized it was Christmas Eve?
And here I was once again alone at Christmas.
At least Eliza had let me sleep in her bed while the twins were visiting their mom.
The lumps from the sofa bed would be more noticeable after stretching out on her extra plush mattress.
Lying in this bed in the quiet house, I tried not to think about what everyone else was doing right now.
There were people dealing with a lot worse than me.
It didn’t stop the little lump forming in my chest as I lay in the bed on Christmas morning.
Be grateful for your real bed staycation, Lilah.
Even my own father wasn’t here with me on Christmas morning. A buzzing behind my eyes started along with the burn at the back of my nose. I swallowed back my tears with a jolt in my stomach. Do not wallow in self-pity.
I cocooned myself in the blankets, wishing I could sleep the day away. Or let my fun brain free for a little bit now that I’d found my design notebook again. I wasn’t sure how I missed it the six times I’d checked my trunk for it before it appeared right where I expected it to be.