by Anna B. Doe
I don’t get to spiral further into what-if scenarios because my phone beeps, signaling I got a text message.
Slowly, I lift my head and look at the bottom of my bed. The little light is blinking bright blue.
You can do this, Grace. You’re a Shelton, and Sheltons aren’t cowards.
Not giving myself time to overthink, I reach down and grab the phone.
Mason: So you’d rather I show you how to throw three-pointers?
I nibble at my lower lip as I read the message. There is a slight pang of fear that maybe I offended him, but it’s not like I can go back.
Me: Depends on the other option.
His next response is immediate.
Mason: What if I want to keep it a surprise?
Me: I don’t like surprises.
Mason: Live a little, Legs.
A burst of laughter comes out of me. What’s with that nickname? I start to ask him, but another message pops up.
Mason: Say yes.
Say yes. As if it were that easy.
You know you want to, a little voice reminds me.
I remember Sienna urging me to go for it.
You knew you’d say yes to whatever he asked of you, even before you messaged him back.
Shaking my head, I decide to stop resisting it.
Me: Yes.
Mason: I’ll pick you up this weekend.
God, he’s so full of himself. I knew he was cocky on the court, but apparently that transfers to off the court behavior too.
Me: What if I have plans?
Mason: Do you?
Me: That’s not the point.
Mason: This weekend.
Me: Fine. This weekend.
Mason: *cheeky smile emoji*
I throw myself back on the mattress and stare at the ceiling. My heart is still beating rapidly, like I just ran a marathon, my palms sweaty from nerves.
I’m going on a date.
With Mason LeBlanc.
Once again, I burrow my head into the pillow, letting out a silent squeal of excitement. There is no way I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.
Chapter Two
“Are we done?” I ask, my legs bouncing with nerves. It feels like we’ve been at this forever and I’m still not ready. I just hope Sienna knows what she’s doing so I don’t look hideous. I don’t want to send Mason flying before we even get a chance to go out on a date.
“If you’d hold still, we’d have been done a while ago. Now shush and let me finish.”
Pressing my lips in a tight line, I do as she says. The makeup brush is tickling me as she applies something—blush or maybe bronzer—on my cheeks.
“Here.” Sienna takes a step back and gives me another once-over before nodding. “Have a look.”
Getting out of my chair, I go to my wardrobe and look in the floor-length mirror that’s attached to the door.
“Oh…”
I almost don’t recognize myself. I’m a jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie kind of girl. Various leotards I have for my dance classes are the girliest pieces of clothing I wear, so that in itself should say something. But for today, Sienna helped me pick out a skirt—yes, a freaking skirt—to wear. I drew the line when she wanted me to pair it with pantyhose. It’s frigging December in New York, there is no way I’m walking around half naked. So I paired it with black leggings, a sweater, and boots. She curled my hair and did my makeup. It’s light, nudes and browns to match my emerald eyes and auburn hair. Just a swipe of mascara and some reddish lip gloss.
“You like?” Sienna asks, putting her hands on my shoulders as she looks at my reflection in the mirror.
“It’s really pretty. I like that it all looks really natural.”
“We don’t want to give J.D. a heart attack just yet.”
We both giggle at that. I could clearly see J.D.’s stupefied face if I ever decided to dress and put on makeup like some of the girls who go to my school.
“What are you two plotting right now?”
Our laughter dies and in unison we turn toward the doorway. J.D.’s leaning against it, baby Wren tucked under his arm like a football. He’s looking at us with curiosity, his brows raised. “Well? Cat got your tongue?”
Sienna snaps out of it first, and joins the two of them, fussing about Wren for a moment. “We were just having some girl time.”
“Girl time, huh?” He turns to me and gives me a long look, finally noticing what I’m wearing. “Am I missing something?”
“I…” I stammer, and stop, unsure of how to proceed.
Sienna assured me it’d all be okay, and to leave it all to her, but it somehow feels wrong. Shouldn’t I be the one to tell my brother I’m going on a date, instead of hiding behind her?
But before I can even open my mouth, she spills. “Grace is going on a date.”
“Sienna!”
“What?!” Both J.D. and Sienna yell in unison, their loud voices waking up the baby.
Not missing a beat, Sienna takes Wren from J.D.’s arms—since my brother seems like he’s glued to the spot—and starts cooing soothingly to him.
“I would have told him,” I protest.
J.D. finally snaps out of whatever spell he’s been under. “She can’t go out on a date, she’s too young.” Then my brother turns to me and points his finger at me. “You can’t go out on a date.”
The arrogance in his tone pisses me off. I knew this wouldn’t go well. I love my brother, but I hate when he’s acting like he’s the boss of me. I’ve been through more shit in my life than he can even imagine. All on my own. If I want to go on a date, who’s he to stop me?
“I’m not a baby, J.D.” I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a determined glare.
His features soften, if only slightly, his tone growing gentler. “But you’re my little sister, and you’re too young to go out on dates.”
“I’m fifteen years old!”
“Exactly.” He lets his arms fall back against his sides. “You have at least ten more years until you can even think of dating.”
Ten years? Is he insane?
“Ugh… You’re driving me crazy!”
“Jack.” Sienna stands between the two of us, her attention on my brother. “Don’t act like a dick.”
Her tone is so matter of fact I want to snort, but I hold it in.
He puffs out his chest as his narrowed gaze lands on his wife. “Are you for real?”
“Of course I’m for real,” Sienna scoffs. And if her hands weren’t full I know she’d flip her hair too. “Grace is a fifteen-year-old girl. It’s normal that she thinks about boys and dates.”
“She’s too young.”
“She’s here and can hear every word you say,” I grit out in frustration, irritated that they’re talking about me like I’m invisible.
“Whose idea was this even?” J.D. glares at the two of us.
“Mine,” I say firmly, stepping forward. Sighing, I look at my brother and say in all honesty, “I really like him, J.D.”
I’m not sure if it’s the look on my face or the way I say it, but J.D.’s whole demeanor softens, if only for a moment. Then his tough guy face is back on. “Who’s the guy?”
“His name is Mason. He goes to the community center too, usually plays basketball with the guys.”
He nods, although his lips are still pressed in a tight line. “I hope you told him to come and pick you up.”
I nod.
“Good.” He nods once, and then turns away.
“What’s he doing?” I look at Sienna in question, at which she shrugs.
“I’m going to find a baseball bat,” J.D. calls out from down the hallway. “I’m sure there has to be one somewhere around here.”
By the time the doorbell rings a while later I’m a mess. I push my hair behind my ears, only to let it slip loose once again. “You don’t think J.D. was serious about the bat, do you?”
“The jury is still out. After all, you’re his little sister. His only sister really.”
<
br /> I’m not sure if I should be happy or worried she isn’t trying to bullshit me.
“I think he’s thanking God right about now that you guys don’t have girls.”
“There’s still time.” Sienna winks playfully as we descend the stairs. “It would serve him right, though.”
“He’s not that bad.” I try to defend him; he’s my brother after all, although sometimes, as Sienna so eloquently pointed out, he acts like a complete dickhead.
“No, he’s not bad. He’s worse. He was a total player, you know. So he doesn’t really have any right to judge.”
“TMI, Si.” I feel my cheeks blush. Apart from a hint here and there I don’t know the details on how J.D. and Sienna met. And I don’t think I want to know them.
She chuckles but the sound dies as we hear the front door open, followed by J.D.’s voice from the foyer. “You must be Mason.”
Just by the sound of it I know he has his I’m-a-badass-football-player face on. The one he wore on the field when he was staring down his opponents.
“Yes, sir,” Mason says in a cool and collected voice. Not a trace of nerves there. “I’m here to pick up Grace for our date.”
My nerves prickle when I hear the word date. Warmth spreads through my body. It’s still surreal, knowing that all of this is happening, that it’s actually real.
Mason is here to pick me up. For a date.
Butterflies in my stomach feel like a stampede, as my heart thumps loudly to the beat of the drum only she knows.
J.D. is standing in the doorway, his looming height preventing me from seeing anything beyond his broad back.
“Jack,” Sienna says sweetly, nudging him aside. “Let the boy in. Hi, I’m Sienna, Grace’s sister-in-law, and this grizzly is her brother, J.D. Feel free to ignore his grumpy ass. Come on inside.”
When they finally move, I meet Mason’s brown eyes. His dark hair is hidden under a black beanie, the ends slightly curling around the edge. He’s wearing a dark puffy jacket, jeans and what looks like a pair of army boots.
His lips curl in that half smile of his, dimples popping in his cheeks as soon as he sees me. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I whisper back, feeling awkward under the watchful gazes of my family. Even baby Wren is awake and staring.
I think I hear Sienna sigh in the background, but I don’t want to turn around to confirm it. That would mean breaking my eye contact with Mason, and I’m not ready to do that just yet.
“Mason, do you want to have something to drink before you guys go?” Sienna asks him as soon as the door is closed and we’re all filling the small hallway.
He blinks, and slowly turns toward her. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“What I want to know is where do you guys plan on going?”
“J.D.!” Sienna and I chastise him at the same time, but he’s not interested in listening.
“I’m not letting you leave this house until I know where he’s taking you,” he grumbles, making a point of crossing his arms over his puffed-up chest.
“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise…” Mason gives me a quick glance before turning his attention to J.D. “We’ll go to Bryant Park. It should be less crowded than Central.”
My heart does a little flip, but I push it back, instead frowning at J.D. “Now you know, will you chill?”
“Not even close.” He grins extra wide, showing off his pearly whites. It seems like he’s enjoying embarrassing the hell out of me.
“J.D.,” I huff, so ready to be done with this. But J.D. is far from being done. His attention shifts to Mason once more.
“You better take good care of her, and you have to bring her home by midnight.”
“But…”
Before I can continue with my protest, Mason nods his head. “Midnight, got it.”
“Anything else?” I stare J.D. down, hoping he gets that there better not be anything else.
“Go and grab your coat, Gracie. I’ll drive you guys there.” I want to protest, and he knows it because before I get a chance he says, “Don’t fight me on this. I’ll drive you and I’ll come and pick you up at the entrance to the park at midnight. Take it or leave it.”
I look at Sienna, but she just shrugs helplessly. We both know when J.D. sets his mind on something there is little we can do to change it. I turn back to my brother. At least he hasn’t insisted on being our chaperone, so there’s that. “Fine.”
Chapter Three
“I’m so sorry about J.D., he isn’t usually that bossy,” I say as soon as we get to the park. There are quite a few people mingling around, but it’s definitely not as crowded as Central Park is this time of the year. Or any time of the year for that matter.
“It’s all good.” Mason shrugs. “He loves you, it’s normal that he worries about you. I’d be more disappointed if he didn’t say anything.”
There is almost a wistfulness to his tone that makes me look at him.
“Do you have siblings?” I ask curiously. Apart from what I’ve seen and heard them talk about on the court while playing, I don’t know all that much about Mason.
“Nah, it’s just me and my dad.”
“Oh.” I want to ask more but can see a closed-off expression fall over his face, his whole body stiffening. I know that look all too well, so I shove back my curiosity, deciding to change the subject to something neutral. “Did you always like to play basketball?”
He blinks and the grim look is gone from his eyes. It helps ease a bit of worry from my heart. I’m not used to seeing moody Mason. Every time I’ve seen him on the court playing with the guys he had a huge smile on his face.
What’s your story, Mason?
The community center brings comfort and happiness to all of us, to the point that it’s hard to remember that it’s also a safe place. A place we run to in order to escape the ugliness of our daily lives, the ugliness of our homes.
“Yes.” A dimple shies its way out. “From the moment I could hold a ball.”
“I don’t know much about basketball,” I admit honestly, “but you look like you’re really good.”
“You’re more of a football girl, huh?” He looks at me, a kind smile on his face.
“That obvious, huh?” I chuckle, pushing hair behind my ear.
“I think everybody living in the state of New York has at least heard of J.D. Shelton.”
That has my steps faltering as insecurity creeps in. “Is that why you asked me out? Because you wanted to meet my brother?”
“What? Fuck no.” He stops and looks at me. “Wait, do you seriously think that?”
I stop too, because he doesn’t seem like he’ll move anytime soon. I look at him, like really look at him. Do I think that? On some subconscious level?
I’ve met my fair share of fame chasers since it’s become known that I’m related to J.D., but Mason doesn’t look like one of them.
“No,” I say slowly. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Mason relaxes a little. “Because I didn’t even know your last name until the moment he opened that door and scowled at me. Even if I wanted to act like a teenage girl meeting her favorite boy band, that was hardly the time.”
I shove him away slightly, and roll my eyes as I continue walking. “What is wrong with teenage girls meeting boy bands?”
“They get loud and obnoxious.”
“You guys are just jealous.”
“Of some skinny dudes who shake their asses on stage and sing of undying love?” He scoffs skeptically. “Sure.”
“So you won’t try to win my affections by singing?” I ask, laughing at the mere idea of it.
“Hell no. I can show you how to shoot a mean three-pointer, dribble the ball like a pro and, if you’re good, I might even throw in some tricks too.” He winks at me and I can feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.
Mason LeBlanc has just winked at me.
I look away, my cheeks turning pink. “I’ll have to take you up on that. Maybe the next time I see you
playing?”
“You mean the next time you spy on me playing?”
“What?” My head snaps up, my cheeks beet red. “I wasn’t spying on you.”
But he doesn’t seem offended by the thought. On the contrary, he seems almost pleased.
“What do you call all those times you were at the gym watching us play then?”
“I was just waiting for somebody to pick me up!” I protest, mortified. Does he really think I was spying on him? Did I really look that desperate? Were they talking about me behind my back?
“Yeah, yeah. The guys were giving me shit every time you’d leave, about the little redhead who comes in to spy on me.”
“Ohmygod,” I moan, burying my head in my gloved hands. I think I’m going to be sick. Is throwing up a better option than running away? “It’s not like that,” I mutter, but the words are muffled by my hands, and they sound more like is mowt like tha.
Mason pulls my hands away from my face, a teasing smile on his lips. “No need to get all flustered like that, Legs. They’re just a bunch of jealous assholes.”
“They’re your friends,” I point out unnecessarily.
“Doesn’t make them less of jealous assholes. Did you know that they keep staring at your legs?”
“What?” I didn’t think my blush could grow deeper, but I’m sure it just did.
“You’re always wearing those leggings and guys notice shit like that. I know from the fact that some of them pass by the ballet classroom just so they can take a peek when you girls are doing your stretching stuff.”
“That’s gross! Don’t tell me you’re doing that too.”
Mason looks away guiltily.
“You’re awful! And then I’m the one spying on you? Are you serious right now?”
His brown eyes sparkle with mischief when they meet mine. “Well, I never said I didn’t spy right back, now did I?”
“No.” I suck in a breath, just now realizing how close we are to each other. His jacket brushing against mine, the tips of our toes touching. “You didn’t.”
We stand like that, just looking at each other. I can feel his warm breath touch my chilly cheeks, the brush of it against my skin making me shiver.
