The Young & the Sinner: An Age-Gap Romance (The Entangled Past Series)

by V. T. Do

  I was smiling as I cruised Margret down the familiar street.

  I had been to Lizzie’s house plenty of times, but never had I been driving to her house by myself. The freedom the car afforded me was exhilarating. There was just something about knowing I could come and go as I pleased that got me all tingly. And I had the sudden urge to drive to Mason’s apartment and demand he stop ignoring me.

  And I would have done it.

  If I was brave enough. Or knew where he lived.

  It shouldn’t be surprising that I had never been to Mason’s home before. There was never a reason for me to go there, no matter how much I wanted to.

  Yet, the idea that perhaps I could be this brave for once in my life took hold and wouldn’t let go. Mason told me lived close to downtown. Was there not any means for me to find out where he lived? I could call him. Demanded that he stop ignoring me.

  But was that too much? Would that make me too desperate? Too aggressive? Didn’t guys like it when girls were aggressive? I knew girls found it sexy when guys did the chasing. When they became reasonably aggressive in their pursuit. Could I not do that?

  At the rate we were going, Mason wouldn’t step foot inside Max’s house until I moved out, I was sure of it.

  I pulled to the side of the road and left the hazard lights on. My hands reached for my phone in the console before I even knew what I was doing, and then I was staring blankly at Mason’s contact information on my phone, my heart beating erratically in my chest. I couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that I was feeling like this.

  My finger hovered over the call button, and with a deep breath, I pressed it. The car’s Bluetooth connected automatically and brought the call through the car’s speaker. My heart seemed to be beating louder than the deafening ring that surrounded me.

  The first ring… the second ring…

  He wasn’t going to pick up.

  Why would he?

  He was avoiding me. Perhaps he felt guilty about the kiss. Perhaps he didn’t very much like the kiss, though I doubted it, all things considered. As inexperienced as I was, I knew when a man wanted me.

  And Mason definitely wanted me that night.

  Was it the age thing?

  Oh, who was I kidding. It was definitely the age thing. But I didn’t see how a single birthday could change my maturity level and my ability to consent. I was eighteen. And out of high school. Surely that counted for something, didn’t it?

  By the fifth ring, I was convinced he wouldn’t pick up. But then the sixth ring was cut off abruptly, and silence filled the entire car. I could hear myself breathing.

  “Hello?”

  24

  Olivia

  Mason lived in one of those high-rise apartments a little bit further into downtown than I had ever been before.

  He said he was a lawyer, and I was thinking he picked a damn good profession to be in, because even if I didn’t know the market value of any one of these apartments, I knew they were something I could never afford in this lifetime.

  He instructed me to the parking garage, parking spot 223, reserved specifically for his guests. It was easy enough to find. I liked that there was an elevator entry into the building. I didn’t want other people to witness how lost I felt just by being here.

  There was something about the atmosphere of this place, and the people around, that intimidated the hell out of me. Putting the car in park, I turned off the headlights and engine, but I didn’t get out of the car.

  This was it.

  I was finally seeing Mason.

  When he first answered his phone, I was rendered speechless. I was so shocked that he actually picked up that I didn’t say anything until he repeated my name for the third time. And then my heart beat so fast against my chest, I swore I almost passed out.

  I told him about my car… or at least, I thought I had. Honestly, I can’t even remember how the conversation went, not with all the blood rushing to my ears. And when we hung up, Mason had texted me his home address and I drove all the way here, not knowing what to expect but excited about the prospect of seeing him again—the two whole weeks he’d been absent felt like an eternity.

  I missed him, I realized. Missed his sturdy presence. Missed the way he looked at me, like he couldn’t quite figure me out, but wanted to. Missed those intense blue eyes doing funny things to my belly, and missed the easy friendship we were developing.

  And I really, really missed that kiss.

  I didn’t know a kiss could be so addicting, but I could see that with Mason, developing an addiction was inevitable.

  Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car and pulled out my phone. Mason gave me the access code to his floor. The elevator wasn’t hard to figure out, and as soon as it moved upward, my heart plummeted to the ground. I grabbed onto the railing to steady myself, but I was still riddled with nerves.

  I had never done anything like this before.

  I shook my head and laughed aloud. Of course I had never done anything like this before. There was just something about doing this that was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. Mostly because I didn’t know how Mason would react.

  Had he only let me come here to tell me to forget about the kiss and forget about him?

  I didn’t know, and I didn’t know what I would do if that was the case. Go along with it? Pretend that it never happened and that, even after two weeks, I was still dumbfounded? That would be asking for the impossible.

  The elevator door opened to an empty hallway. I passed seven doors before I found Mason’s, apartment 5226. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and licked my lips. I still couldn’t put makeup on, and I wondered if I looked too pale without any coloring on my face.

  Would Mason take one look at me decide I wasn’t worth the effort?

  I raised my fist and knocked three times.

  One long, dreadful minute passed before the door was unlocked and clicked open. There was Mason, standing at the threshold of the door, looking like he just stepped out of the cover of a magazine with his dark fitted jeans, bare feet, and a navy-blue t-shirt that hugged his muscles in all the right places. He looked like I how I remembered him, and yet so different as well.

  But there was still the same unruly dark hair that always made me want to run my fingers through it, the same intense blue eyes, the same smile… but something about his expression was off. A little more guarded, perhaps, mixed with something else I couldn’t identify.

  “Can I come in?” I asked softly.

  He hesitated for a quick moment before moving aside to let me through.

  The sun must have set during the time I was in elevator, because when I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window, twilight was hitting, and I could see the long line of headlights below, coming from two directions. Rush-hour traffic was just beginning.

  “You didn’t work today?” I asked. He was dressed pretty casually for a Monday, all things considered.

  “Yeah. I came home early,” he answered gruffly. I could see his reflection in the window, watching me. I didn’t turn around.

  “Oh.”

  “What are we doing, Olivia?” And I couldn’t tell how he was feeling by the tone of his voice. He said “we” like whatever happened next would be decided together. I knew what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t know how to word it without coming off as forward.

  “You’ve been ignoring me,” I said instead.

  Mason moved closer to me. Our eyes met through the reflection, and I was held immobile where I stood. “With good reason.”

  I turned to him then. He was so close that I could feel the heat coming off his body in waves. I wanted to move closer to his warmth. To be engulfed in his strong arms and arousing scent.

  And I almost forgot how tall he was compared to me. Compared to anyone, really. Being this close to him, my eyes were level with his chest. I didn’t even reach his shoulders standing at my full height. I had to lean my head back to look at him in the eyes.

  Ou
r eyes locked, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

  “What good reason?” I asked, my voice coming out in stuttered breath.

  “That… it shouldn’t have happened.”

  I hated that he couldn’t even say the word. “That kiss, you mean?”

  He flinched. “Yes. That kiss. It shouldn’t have happened. I know better, and I took advantage of you.”

  Now he looked ashamed. Which just pissed me off. “I kissed you first.”

  “But that wasn’t your intention, was it, little one?”

  I glared at him. “Does calling me ‘little one’ serve as a reminder to yourself that I’m young?”

  He looked away and didn’t answer. Of course it did. I scoffed. “I’m not that young. Trust me, I knew what I was doing when I kissed you that third time. I wanted it to happen. I enjoyed it.” I looked down, now feeling a little unsure. “Did you not enjoy it?”

  Mason was experienced, way more experienced than me, I knew that much. That man literally exuded sex appeal from every pore. That was one of the many reasons I was so drawn to him. And he was probably used to someone who had the same level of experience as him.

  He groaned and closed his eyes. “That is beside the point.”

  “Then what is the point?”

  “The point is, you’re young. And you’re Max’s ward.”

  “Not really.” According to the state of Illinois and the United State of America, I was a legal adult.

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll always be Max’s family. And you should be mine as well. I should do everything I can to protect you, even if I’m protecting you from myself.”

  I scowled. “I don’t need you to protect me. I’m not a child incapable of making my own decisions. I know what I want.” And I wanted him. I didn’t say it, but surely it was implied.

  Mason looked away, his jaw ticking. I bit my lip and shifted on my feet. We were at an impasse. Somehow, I assumed this would be easier. I naively thought talking to him would solve all of our problems, but Mason interpreted the problem as being much bigger than I did.

  My shoulders sagged and I leaned against the cold window, taking him in. “Look, I know where you’re coming from. And I can respect that. But can’t we go back to before? You know, when you weren’t avoiding me.”

  He briefly met my eyes and I could see guilt in them. Then one corner of his lips curled up in a half smile. “Caught on, did ya?”

  “Well, yeah. I went from seeing you almost every day to not seeing you at all. I don’t like it, Mason. I don’t like not seeing you or talking to you.”

  He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry, Livie. I could have handled the situation better. I know.”

  “So that means you’ll stop avoiding me?” He nodded. “And we can hang out like before?” Although, I didn’t want us to “hang out” like before. If I had it my way, I would be seeing Mason a lot more than before.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. We can hang out like before.”

  I frowned. “You’re not mocking my word choice again, are you?”

  He laughed. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  I took that as a yes. Ignoring it, I walked away from the living room and further into the large apartment. I didn’t get to take it in fully before, but now that I had, I was both impressed and a little sad about the state of it. Impressed with how big it was, with all the newer amenities, a large island taking up most of the space in his kitchen, the gas fireplace surrounded by gray stone wall, and even the dark hardwood floors.

  I always thought living in an apartment meant you could hear what your next-door neighbor was doing, but I hadn’t heard anything since I got here. Either he had really quiet neighbors or the walls were well insulated.

  But I was a little sad with the state of his apartment. There were no personal things around that told me what kind man Mason was. It was almost like he wasn’t living here but only occupying the space for the time being. Max said he needed furniture, and I could see that they had bought some, but it covered the bare minimum: an L-shaped couch that took up most of the space in the living room, a small dining room table that seated four, and some barstools.

  I was sure he had more furniture in his bedroom, though I doubted it was much.

  “Give me a tour?” I asked.

  His smile widened. He waved his hand in the general direction, because he had an open floor plan and everything could be seen from where we stood. “Kitchen, living room, dining room. And through that hallway are the bedrooms and bathrooms.”

  I walked to the hallway on my left and Mason turned on the hallway light, though it wasn’t necessary. The lights he had on in the living room were enough for me to see. I thought it was because he didn’t want to be left alone in the dark with me again.

  I shot him a look; one he pretended not to notice. There were three doors. One led to a bathroom the size of Max’s walk-in closet, which wasn’t bad, and one that led to what I assumed was a spare room that he turned into his office. There was a huge wooden desk placed front and center, a window as a backdrop, showcasing Chicago’s impressive skyscrapers, and at the far end, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with books. I spent a few minutes reading over the titles and was impressed with his collection. There were so many different genres, from fiction to science fiction, nonfiction, and even law textbooks.

  Mason stayed behind me, a silent presence I couldn’t ignore. I felt his eyes on me as my fingers skimmed the spines. When I turned around, our eyes met, and I couldn’t be sure what it was exactly that he was feeling. Did he like having me in his space?

  This room was obviously one he spent a lot of time in. There was an open book lying face down on the recliner and an absurd amount of paperwork on his desk that gave me a slight headache just looking at it. It reminded me of the state of Max’s office at home, which he spent more time in than his own bedroom.

  “I like the books,” I said, when the silence became too much.

  Mason looked like he wanted to smile but didn’t. He nodded seriously, and I got the distinct impression that he was amused by me. “Thank you. Max told me you are quite the reader. What do you enjoy reading most?”

  “Plays,” I blurted out. “Mostly classics. Typically ones that was written in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.”

  My cheeks felt hot under his gaze. Mason nodded, as if he was taking a mental note of that information. I brushed past him on my way out. He dutifully followed behind me.

  The last door I opened was to Mason’s room.

  I knew it was the master bedroom because there was an ensuite bathroom, a king-sized bed, and at least some personal belongings, like the suit jacket draped on the back of a slightly raised barred footboard.

  His briefcase was on the floor, leaning against the wall by the door, and the bed was neatly made. I walked further into the room and took in the impressive size, trying my hardest to ignore the huge bed in the center of the room.

  When I looked back at Mason, he wasn’t in the room with me, but standing at the threshold, his arms braced on either side of the doorframe. He was looking anywhere but at me, and he seemed nervous for some reason.

  He probably didn’t want me in his room. This was, after all, his personal space. I walked to the door, and Mason moved slightly to the side, leaving enough room for me to past. Just I was about to walk past him, Mason gently grabbed my bicep, stopping me.

  We didn’t say anything for a long minute. The place he touched me felt as if I was being electrocuted, with bolts of shock shooting into my system just from his hand.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  I smiled. Dinner with Mason at his apartment? I couldn’t think of anything better. “Starved.”

  “Good,” he answered gruffly. “I’ll order some takeout and have them deliver. Is there anything you want specifically?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll eat anything that doesn’t have scallions.”

  His lips twitched. “No scallion.
Got it.”

  When he let go of me, I almost fell on my butt. It was as if his touch alone had steadied me, and I had to learn to rebalance myself all over again.

  I shot him a shy smile and walked back out to the living room, taking up a small corner of the couch. I could hear Mason talking on the phone. I pulled mine out and texted Max.

  Me: Hey, just wanted to let you know you don’t have to order any dinner for me. I’m going to eat out.

  Max: Okay, kiddo. Have fun with Lizzie.

  I put my phone away, my heart pinched in guilt. Technically I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to drive to Lizzie’s house. That was what I had wanted to do, initially. I didn’t plan on spending my evening with Mason, and I just knew this wasn’t something Max would approve of, even if all we were doing was hanging out.

  When Mason walked back in, a dark shadow brewed behind his eyes, but it was gone as soon as his eyes found mine. I didn’t comment on that look. Instead, I met his stare heads on, feeling a slight flush making its way up to my cheeks the longer we looked at each other.

  “Twenty minutes,” he said, taking a seat about two feet away from me. I eyed the space with a frown but didn’t say anything.

  “Cool.”

  His lips twisted in a smile. “Cool,” he repeated. “Yes. I hope you like Thai food. There’s this great place just around the block that delivers.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We stared at each other in more awkward silence, and I had never wished I had successfully learned social etiquette as a kid more than I did right now. Perhaps then I would know what to say to him.

  “How was your first day of school?” Mason asked.

  I thought about lying, but there was just something about Mason that made me want to tell him everything.

  “It was alright. It was hard not to see Lorenzo’s ghost there, though. I mean, I know he’s not even in the city anymore, yet every time I turned around, there was always something that reminded me of him.”

  Mason nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get that. It’ll be a while before you’re truly comfortable with your setting.”