by Rebecca Kate
I texted him the location and tried to ignore the knocking and yelling on the other side of the door. I found the rest of my drink on the counter by the sink, and threw my head back, finishing it. Then I fell to the floor and let the tears overtake me once more.
What seemed like forever passed, and then my phone pinged.
Mason: I’m here. Thank God.
Me: Okay. Could you maybe come inside to get me? I’m first door down the hall to the left. His response was immediate.
Mason: Yes, I’m here. First door on the left.
Not a minute later, a knock sounded at the door. The line outside the door must have been a dead giveaway of my location when he entered the house.
I wiped under my eyes and opened the door to find Mason looking very confused and also very mouthwatering. “Scarlet, are you—”
“I’m okay, let’s just get out of here.” I interrupted, attempting to walk next to him. I wobbled in my three-inch heels, and he caught me and snaked an arm around my waist. I had to work to keep the moan from escaping.
Taking full advantage of my situation, I wrapped my own arm around his waist too. Thinking I might as well enjoy this while I’m drunk since it will be mortifying in the morning. Together, we exited the booming party house. I managed to hold the tears off the entire walk to the car, but the second I climbed in, the sadness took over again.
I shook silently as the tears rolled down my face. I tried desperately to gain my composure once again as Mason opened the driver door and folded himself neatly in the seat. To his credit, he held his questions off the majority of the drive, his eyes darting back and forth between my tear stained cheeks and the road.
As we neared the major highway that would take us home, Mason got impatient with my silent tears. His eyes shifted from me to the road, to me again. “What happened in there?”
“It was nothing,” I lied.
“It was not nothing. You don’t call someone to come pick you up because nothing happened.”
“I’m drunk, and my wallet is at home. I had no other ride.”
“Okay, well you don’t hide out in a bathroom for forty-five plus minutes and cry the entire way home because of nothing. Cut the bullshit and tell me, Scarlet.”
“So much for ‘no questions asked,’” I grumbled.
“Huh?” He was understandably confused. It was a long time ago when we had that conversation.
“When Leah and I were younger, you told us if we ever needed, you’d come get us no questions asked.” He sighed.
“Fair point. But come on, I’m not asking why you were drinking underage. I frankly don’t give a shit about that. Well, you could have been a little safer about it, and maybe brought your wallet along to call a cab. I’m asking why you’re so upset. I’m allowed to ask those types of questions. Now spill.” I huffed and rolled my eyes, but told him the truth.
“Fredrick is cheating on me.”
After the world’s longest silence, he shifted his eyes to me and said, “I see.” My eyebrows shot up into my hairline.
“You don’t sound surprised.” Maybe I was reading too much into it since I was drunk, but I got the feeling he wanted to explain.
“I don’t know, Scarlet. The dude just seemed like the type that is never satisfied and doesn’t know a good thing when he’s got it. Those are the types that wander. You’re better off without him. I’m assuming you dumped his ass, right?”
“Well, no. Not exactly,” I said sheepishly.
“He dumped you? Harsh.”
“No, not exactly.”
“Scarlet… Please tell me you aren’t still with the guy.”
“Well… He doesn’t know I caught him cheating. He was a little preoccupied. He didn’t see me. And well, then I went and hid in the bathroom.”
“Scarlet!”
“I couldn’t face him.”
“Break it off with that guy. He’s not worth it. Really, Scarlet.” He turned like he was going to his house, and I silently thanked God for the small miracle.
“You’ve got to eat something. I can’t send you home this drunk. Come on, I’ll make you some breakfast tacos and then take you home.”
We pulled up to Mason’s house, and he hopped out and came around to help me out. My heart flipped at the feel of his touch again. I wished I were sober enough to enjoy it more, but I wasn’t stupid. If I were sober, he wouldn’t have been taking care of me to that extent. My shirt rode up a little where his hand held me at my waist. I wondered if he even realized how much skin he was touching.
If he did, it didn’t show in any way. Who am I kidding? The crush had to end. He was my best friend’s father. Of course he didn’t notice that he was touching my waist. He was too busy making sure his best friend’s daughter didn’t die of alcohol poisoning. He was being a responsible adult. He didn’t know how I felt and he certainly didn’t feel the same way.
I felt so stupid and pathetic. I already had a guy who actually liked me and I pushed him away so much that he ended up turning to another woman, and I was sitting there stuck on a man who didn’t want me and thought of me more like a daughter than a woman. I didn’t even realize I was crying again until Mason asked me what was wrong.
“Nothing. I’m stupid and pathetic. That’s all.”
“You’re not stupid. You’re not pathetic. You just have awful taste in men.” He smirked at me, not knowing exactly how on the money he was.
“You have no idea…” I shot back, shifting to lay on the sofa.
Mason ventured into the kitchen to get started on my food, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blanket. I grabbed the blanket, trying hard not to fall on my ass, then I curled up in it and dreamt of a life where the man I want, wanted me right back.
I awoke to the soothing feel of my hair being petted. “Scarlet, I have to go to work, but it’ll be an early day for me. I just have a few meetings. I won’t be gone too long. You looked like you needed the sleep, so I didn’t wake you last night. Make yourself at home, go swimming, eat food, binge on Netflix, forget the guy. I’ll take you home when I get back from work if you haven’t already left by then. But definitely call your parents so they don’t worry.”
I nodded my head and opened one eye. I regretted it immediately when my eyes found none other than Mason in a suit. I groaned and turned around, pretending he was just a dream. He chuckled and left, assuming I just didn’t want to be woken up.
I heard his truck roar to life with a guttural growl, like a territorial bear. Pure masculinity and pure Mason. I imagined him in his suit, in that truck and groaned for the second time that morning. Then I did exactly what he suggested.
I ate, I watched a little Netflix, and then I put on one of my own swimsuits that I left there ages ago and dove into the massive pool in his backyard. I loved that pool. It was a salt water oasis. Shaped like a peanut, it featured a large piling of rocks where the water circulated and formed a fountain.
I felt like a mermaid, and temporarily I forgot the guy, well guys, both of them. I twirled and turned and scissored my legs like a synchronized swimmer, and just enjoyed being in the perfect eighty-degree water. Swimming was so freeing. You could pretend to be someone else and escape being your awkward self. Escape being the girl that wasn’t good enough for either of the men she took interest in and just be happy and alone.
“Are you getting thirsty in there? How long have you been in?” Mason scared the bejeezus out of me, and I gasped and spun around to find him grinning. He was still dressed up in his suit and looking at me with a carefree humor to his lips. Up until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I was.
“You scare me like that again, and I might just have to push you in, suit and all!”
He full-on laughed at my teasing threat. Putting his hands up in a surrender, he said, “Okay! Okay! Backing off now. Swim on, little fish. Speaking of suit though. I’m melting. I’m going to go change, and maybe order a pizza.”
I stared at his retreating form, app
reciating the way his jacket accentuated his broad shoulders. That’s one thing Fredrick did not have, is a well filled out form of a mature, masculine body. He was in shape for his age, but on the smaller end of the scale. Like, he had six-pack abs, but they leaned more toward the—too skinny—type of abs than the pure muscle—I work out—type of abs. There’s a huge difference.
I was brought back into the moment when the light flickered on in Mason’s bedroom, which I could clearly see from my angle in the pool. The sun was just about to set, and I had to put my hand up to shield my eyes from the glare.
The window blinds in his room were pulled completely up, indicating that he hadn’t had to worry about peeping toms living alone in that type of neighborhood. His curtains were pulled to the side as well. Further proof that he was in a position where he could change freely in his own home without worrying about modesty.
He peeled his jacket coat off his impressive shoulders and laid it neatly on the foot of the bed. Then with his back to me, he pulled the tails of his shirt out of his pants and undid each button. That too was peeled off and placed on the foot of his bed. His belt came next as he pulled the buckle loose and then threaded it out each loop. I was captivated by the show and paralyzed in place.
He unbuttoned his slacks and seemed to unknowingly take pity on me as he ran a hand through his perfect head of hair and disappeared into the bathroom. I throbbed beneath the water from the peepshow. I was in big trouble. I couldn’t stop my infatuation even knowing just how wrong it was. Even knowing just how disastrous it would be if anyone found out about my feelings, including Mason. Something inside of me was broken. This was not a normal crush, it was an obsession.
I slapped two hands on the stone surrounding the pool and pulled myself out of the water. Then I grabbed a towel and began to dry myself off. I took the stairs two at a time, and found myself in Leah’s room, rummaging through her closet for something to wear. A low-cut white sundress caught my eye. I remembered Leah complaining that it was too large in the breasts and seemed to ride down too much for her liking. Bingo. It was perfect for my body.
I put it on, and just as I thought it would, it fit like a glove. I was blessed a few cup sizes more than my thin-framed bestie, and this worked to my advantage when it came to dresses like this. I sprinted to her bathroom and blow-dried my dark curls just enough to put into a messy top-knot that wouldn’t drip down my neck and back. Then I left in search of Mason and that pizza.
Four
I found Mason on the sofa, just as he usually was, watching some show on Netflix. “I ordered a pizza. It should be here in about five minutes,” Mason said, without looking away from the television. I made my way to the kitchen to grab two beers.
“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the beer I handed him.
Taking a sip of my beer, I admitted, “I miss Leah.”
He turned to me, honesty in his blue eyes, “I miss her too, so much.”
“She would know just what to say to me to make me feel better. She’s good like that.”
“Yeah, she is.” He waited a beat, and then continued, “I know I’m not Leah, but I did raise her. I’m here for you if you need me. I don’t have shit going on today. We could just shoot the shit if you want.” I nodded at his offer, not able to speak yet.
“How was work today?” I eventually asked.
“Good. Had a lot of progress on this contract we’re strumming up for a client. Our lawyers think it’s a done deal. No complications.”
“That’s great,” I said, genuinely happy for his business. He had made a name for himself with his advertising company. Now companies all over specifically asked for him by name because he was the best.
“What’d you do all day?” He grinned, teasing me since he had obviously had a very productive and short day at work today. “Mope around about some asshole, and then went swimming?” he continued to tease.
“Basically,” I admitted with a sullen edge to my voice.
“What is it about that guy anyway? I don’t get it. You’re so much better than him.”
“You don’t even know him. How can you judge?”
“You’re right. I’m judging. Tell me then. Tell me all about the guy. I promise not to judge.” He put a hand over his heart to further prove his commitment. I smiled at him with that offer.
That was more like the Leah vibe I needed. Leah was open-minded and supportive. She liked Fredrick because she gave him a chance. She could see that the reason he wasn’t likable was that people didn’t see past the first layer he generally threw out there.
“Fredrick is passionate, he’s artistic, he’s deep, and he’s smart. He treated me well up until last night. He’s a good friend. He listens to me and gives good advice. And he fucks like a champion.”
Mason choked on his beer at my last confession, and I laughed. “It’s probably because he’s older and more experienced.”
“He’s twenty-two. How much experience could the guy possibly have?” Mason asked, surprisingly sounding honest and not judgmental.
“More experience than me. He was my first.” He put his beer bottle down and stared at me at those words. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he gave me a long moment of silence and then told me.
“You gave him your virginity? Really? That guy?”
“That sounds like judgment,” I accused, shying away from his eyes.
“Sorry. You’re right. It’s just, you deserve so much better. I would have thought a good girl like you would wait for the right guy to come along.” My eyes finally shot back to his.
“I’m eighteen. It’s unheard of to be a virgin at eighteen. I didn’t want to go off to college and be the only virgin there.” Mason looked at me thoughtfully. He understood, but he still didn’t approve.
“Leah is still a virgin though, right?” I gave him a look that basically said, “yeah right…” He cringed like I told him I had just lost all my fingernails. Leah lost her virginity before I did. She lost it to a friend at a party in high school because she wanted to get it over with. She wasn’t even dating the guy at the time. I kept that information to myself though.
“When was your first time?” I asked. I felt safe talking to him, but the second those foolish words flew out of my mouth I instantly wanted to take them back. He side-eyed me.
“I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” he admitted.
“You don’t have to answer. I was just curious since you think Leah and I should still be virgins at eighteen. I’m assuming you were older?”
Mason smiled bashfully. He looked lost in a memory.
“No, umm, no, I was young. Too young. I was fifteen and she was seventeen. I thought I was a big stud because a seventeen-year-old girl liked me. She was a friend of some older friends of mine, and she gave me a ride home one night. I was too young to drive.
“My parents weren’t home, so I invited her in. There was a lot of fumbling and embarrassment and awkward apologies. I’m sure it wasn’t near as good for her as it was for me. We ended up dating for a few weeks after that. I think she just felt sorry for me. Anyway, I was young, but it’s not a bad thing to wait until you are older. Only you know when you’re ready.”
“Well, that ship has sailed, so…”
He gave me another meaningful look. “Just because you’re not a virgin doesn’t mean you have to have sex. Don’t ever let a guy pressure you. You do it because you wanted to, and no other reason. Not because you think a guy expects it. It’s your body, your choice.”
Mason and I stared at each other for the longest time until he cleared his throat and looked away. “So how are your classes going?” he asked, grabbing the remote for a little background sound. He had turned the volume down earlier so we could talk, but it was getting a little too quiet.
“School is good. I like my teachers so far, but it’s early in the semester.”
“What’s your major?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“English Lit. I’m going to be a writer
.”
“A writer? What will you write?”
“Anything that won’t stay in my head. If it demands to be written, I will just have to write it, I guess.”
“Well, you’ll have to let me know when I can read it.”
“Uhh, maybe once I hit the New York Times bestseller list.”
He laughed at that. “Come on. We’re pals now. You gotta let me read your work.” The way he pleaded with me made me want to cave. He was so adorable. It was just one of the many things I loved about him.
Our questions turned into stories, and words turned into laughter, and we even eventually ate the pizza. It was easy to talk to him, and he gave off the vibe that it was easy with me too. He told me things he had never told anyone, and I did the same. We spent hours just getting to know each other on a level we had never explored before.
I couldn’t tell you exactly how it happened. But one moment we were discussing life and the next we were kissing. I had glanced at his mouth and then as if I had silently urged it forward, it met my own. His lips moved against mine in a dance. It was smooth and rough, demanding and offering.
Nerves bubbled up inside me, making my heart race and my stomach do somersaults. His tongue grazed the seam of my lips, silently asking permission. I opened, granting him full access. I sighed and he groaned as our mouths made love to each other. I wasn’t naïve. I knew it was too good to last.
He pulled back and looked at me, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip appreciatively. But as my eyes lifted to meet his, I could see the reality of the situation hit him hard. Waves of emotion crashed against him and pulled him under. I couldn’t look away as he drowned in disgust and fear.
Half of me hated myself for wanting him so badly to the point where he had to compromise his morals to even kiss me. But the other half was still lost in that kiss. The kiss that gave me hope. “Scarlet, oh God, oh no,” he whispered to himself, his eyes full of sorrow.
“It’s okay,” I tried to soothe, obviously understanding his concern.
