“I would ask you where the library is,” Mason said in English, “but I think that one is played out.”
“If not the bibliothèque, why not the discothèque?” she said, using the French words for “library” and “disco.”
“To be honest,” Mason said, leaning in close, “I’ve run all out of French puns to make you laugh, and I’m afraid nothing else I have to say is of interest.”
“Quelle horreur!” she exclaimed in mock horror. “It’s only the second French club meeting and already you’ve disappointed me.”
“Someone take me to the guillotine, I’m ready to die now.” He sighed and clutched his chest in mock-pain.
“Hey you guys,” Thomas hissed, leaning over and glaring at Mason. “Maybe speak a little French? I don’t want this to be like last year and turn into the Frenglish club by the end of the semester.”
“I’m sorry,” Mason said in French. “It won’t happen again.”
Thomas sighed. “Yes it will.” He glanced over at Kierra and made an odd expression that she couldn’t quite read, but that almost looked like a grimace. “Just save it for after club, hmm?”
At that moment the clock tower near campus rang out the chimes for 2:00pm, signaling an end to French club. Mason smirked at Thomas, who just rolled his eyes and slid away, muttering under his breath.
“He seemed overly annoyed,” Kierra said, glancing at her books but not getting up. Mason stayed put as well, showing no real desire to leave.
“Tom is just trying to live up to Frankie’s overly anal retentive example. I swear, the longer those two live together, the more they become like each other.” He leaned in close, conspiratorially. “Frankie is even getting taller.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Kierra said, appreciating the smell of him, the feel of him so close.
“You’ll see, I’ve been measuring him when he’s not paying attention. I’m completely right about this.”
Kierra couldn’t help but smile at his silly, goofy tone, even as her blood pumped faster when she realized how close they were sitting on the couch. A little bit of flirting isn’t dating, she told herself. It’s not bad for my studies to learn some French at the same time.
“You know, there’s something I’ve always wondered about the Valentine’s Day Dance Matchmaker,” he said, his eyes meeting hers without breaking away. “If the dance goes until midnight, and midnight isn’t Valentine’s Day anymore, why can’t the girl just date?”
Kierra shrugged. “I guess there’s no reason why it would be against the rules. The Matchmaker isn’t supposed to set herself up because it wouldn’t be fair for the other girls. But the 15th isn’t the 14th.”
“And neither is today,” he pointed out, his hand reaching over to draw circles on her knee. “In fact, it’s nowhere near Valentine’s Day at all.”
She knew what was coming, where his eyes were looking, what that hand meant. The room was empty and no one would know. At any moment she could lean back, turn away, shake her head - say no. But she didn’t.
Instead Kierra closed her eyes, leaned forward the barest of millimeters, and let Mason kiss her.
His lips were soft and warm, his hand on her knee sending thrills up her spine, his other hand reaching over to rest on her neck. She opened up to him, kissed him back. Their lips made the best kind of French language, flirting turning into desire.
It took every bit of will in her body to pull back and let the kiss be just that: a kiss. But dear God did she want to make out on the couch like a lovesick teenager.
And based on the way his eyes were when he opened them up and looked at her, pupils blown large, green-and-gold hazel rings thin at the edges, he wanted the exact same thing she did.
“Embrasse-moi,” he said, a soft smile on his face.
“Already did,” she answered, throat dry, lips hungry for more. “I, uh, I should go.”
She turned her body away from him to break the temptation, picking up her book bag off the floor and swinging it over her shoulder as she stood up. For a moment she considered leaving the room as fast as possible without looking back - but then she stopped herself, looking down at Mason sitting there, his eyes still warm and kind, his hands letting go of her without a bit of possessiveness in them.
“That was nice,” she admitted, the words coming out small and scared. Don’t say “thank you,” for God’s sake.
“Tom and Frankie and I are having a pizza party tonight,” he said, surprising her with the sudden change in subject. “It’s this small, laid back thing we like to do every once and a while to celebrate the fact that our dorm doesn’t suck. You should come. Bring those friends of yours.”
“Sure,” she said, unable to think of a good reason to say no. “What time?”
“8:00, fourth floor, room 4B.” Mason grabbed his own book and stood up, his posture only slightly awkward, slightly shy. “I’ll see you then?”
“Yeah. Yes. See you then.”
“Good.” And he kissed her on the cheek, lips warm and gentle, before he reached over and opened the door for her to leave. For a moment she felt déjà-vu, staring at the open doorway, until she remembered this wasn’t Brooks. This wasn’t a trap. She got to leave.
So she did.
Kierra decided to take the long way back to her rooms, needing the time to think - and to unwind from that kiss, which had left her whole center feeling soft and giddy like a little girl.
She wanted to stop everyone she passed and yell: “he kissed me!” She was certain it showed on her face that she was giddy and flirty, gooey and warm.
There was more than just her feelings to think about, though. After everything that had happened to her in the past year, she didn’t have the room left in her heart for more pain cause by a boy. She knew Mason Pryor’s reputation.
But she also knew what it felt like to be kissed by him. Surely that look in his eyes couldn’t be a lie; neither could that smile. Maybe Leila and Lacy were right when they told her the best way to move on was to find someone new and let him in. It’s not like he asked me to be his girlfriend. A pizza party and maybe a date is no big deal. And he makes me laugh. I haven’t laughed like that since…
Turning the corner, she passed by the Dean’s office and froze.
He was there.
His back was to her, but even from this angle and several feet away she could tell that it was him. Even the shirt and jacket were unmistakable; she’d wrapped her arms around them a thousand times. Standing next to him was his father and a man in a suit who was no doubt a high-powered lawyer.
Unfreezing, she turned and hurried away, her heart beating double time. It wasn’t until she’d gone around the corner and reached the end of the hall that she stopped and took a deep breath, hands trembling, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
Brooks. Brooks. She hadn’t seen him since - since - he stood in front of her, blood on his knuckles, a wild look in his ice blue eyes. Kierra could still hear his voice in her head: “why the fuck are you crying? You did this. You made me do this.”
Because of him, Evan Dames had dropped out of school to go into physical rehabilitation; because of him, Kierra would never be the same. Could never love the same.
There was only one reason why he would be in the Dean’s office with his father. Leila and Lacy were right; he was trying to get his expulsion lifted. No doubt his rich father had already settled the assault charges out of court with enough hush money to pay for Evan’s medical bills and then some. With the charges dropped, and enough contrition on his face, he’d get back into school.
And then he would find her again. She couldn’t let that happen.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Heart, What it Wants
Mason Pryor had a major problem, and he didn’t like it at all.
Problems were meant to be avoided at all cost, but this one had come up on him out of nowhere. He hadn’t expected to like Kierra. She was beautiful sure; and she had a great sense of humor. But that wasn
’t what attracted him to her so strongly; it was that sense of vulnerability that led him to her, that instinct that she was pushing him away just as strongly as she wanted to let him in.
It didn’t hurt that he had a $1,000 bet riding on whether or not he could get her to go out with him on Valentine’s Day, thereby breaking her pledge and earning him the title of the VDDM bagger four years running.
“I just don’t see why it’s such a problem,” Frankie said from his spot on the couch, watching disinterestedly as Mason paced back and forth in their living room. “So you like the girl. Date her. She can’t be any worse than Anna.”
“She’s definitely not worse than Anna,” Tom said, shuddering from head to toe. Their tall, ever-eating roommate was in the kitchen, waiting for his pizza to come out of the oven. “Anna was possessed. This Kierra girl is actually pretty cute. She didn’t foam at the mouth when I talked to her.”
“Very funny,” Mason said, grumbling. “You guys don’t know what Anna was like when it was just the two of us.”
“Good at blowjobs?” ventured Frankie.
“I think the back door was more her purview,” Tom joked.
Mason just rolled his eyes. “You two haven’t gotten any in so long that I’m surprised you haven’t started going to town on each other. Stop insulting the girls I’ve dated and look to your own selves.”
Both of them grumbled and glared at him, but they didn’t seem to have any witty retorts handy. “Good, glad we’re done with that. Now, what do I do about this whole bet situation?”
“Win?” Frankie offered. “Money, good. Girl, good.”
“But what if I want something more serious?” Mason fretted, knowing he was fretting, wishing there was some way he could call the whole thing off before Kierra found out about it.
“Just don’t tell her she’s worth $1,000 and you’ll be fine.”
“What are you worried about, dude?” Tom said, diving into his third meal that day. “You’re graduating in a few months. Don’t bother starting something serious before then when we both know serious relationships aren’t your speciality.”
“Great, I’m glad for the help,” Mason said sarcastically.
It’s obvious this is not going to end well, Mason thought. And crazily enough, I’m starting to hope for a happy ending.
Everything was horrible, and everything hurt.
Sitting on her bed in her room later that afternoon, Kierra couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment a knock at the door would signal Brooks was waiting just outside.
“It’s gonna be okay, sweetie,” Lacy said, rubbing circles on her back. “If he comes anywhere near this room, Leila and I will bite Brooks to teeth.”
Kierra raised her eyebrows. “With your… teeth?”
To demonstrate, Lacy snapped her teeth in the air. “GrrrrRrrrrrrrr.”
That got a small laugh out of Kierra. “I know it’s dramatic, but just seeing him brought it all back. I hate to keep rehashing the past like this.”
“It happened a few months ago, not last decade. Give yourself a break, hmm?” Leaning in, Lacy hugged her sideways, face crushed against her shoulder, Sighing, Kierra closed her eyes and let all her tension out into the air.
Then she remembered something. “Aw, crap. I told Mason Pryor I’d go to his pizza party tonight. You and Leila were invited, too.”
“Pizza party? From what I’ve heard, that’s fourth floor code for 40s and loud music all night.” Lacy pulled back from their hug, but only just a little. “Don’t you wanna go? Have a good time? You-know-who definitely won’t be at Mason Pryor’s ‘pizza’ party.”
“That’s true.” Kierra considered it, but the thought of having to put on her makeup and fake smile her way through the evening just felt horrible. “I don’t think I feel up to it. You and Leila should go, though.”
“Go where?” Leila asked, hovering in the doorway with a six pack of Red Bull and a bottle of vodka in her hand.
“Mason Pryor is having one of his parties, and we’re invited,” Lacy said, noticing the supplies Leila held. “Were you planning on keeping us drunk and awake all night?”
Leila shrugged. “There are worse things. So why not go to this party?”
Kierra shook her head. “I don’t think I should.” She hesitated, glancing from Lacy to Leila and back again. “To tell you the truth, earlier today Mason and I kissed.
“WHAT!?” “No way.”
“Exactly.” Kierra sighed, her heart fluttering just remembering the feeling of his lips against hers. “So there’s no way it can be a good idea to go to this party right now. I mean, I’d be in his room, and what if…”
“I told you her ‘no dating’ rule was gonna go out the window,” Leila said to Lacy, setting down the drinks on Kierra’s desk. “There’s nothing quite like a cute, charming boy to make a girl’s resolutions go out the window.”
“Hey now!” Kierra objected. “I’m still not going to date him. Seeing Brooks made me remember why I swore that I wouldn’t get involved with someone anymore. Especially not someone like that.”
Lacy frowned. “Someone like what?”
“Cute. Charming. Well-off. Guys like Mason and Brooks always have a dark side that comes out with time. They go through life getting everything they want, and then they feel entitled to it. He’s bad news.” Kierra was surprised to realize she was starting to cry. “I can’t go through that again.”
Lacy hugged her once more, and this time Leila joined in as well. “We won’t go to that pizza party.”
Shaking her head, Kierra pulled back from their hugs. “No, you should go. At least let them know I won’t be coming. Say I’m sick or whatever. I don’t want to be rude.”
“Sure thing, chicken wing,” Lacy said, stroking her hair. “We’ll be right back, no worries.”
The pizza party was, as usual, turning more into a “drink whiskey and watch Tom eat his weight in pizza” party. Mason tended to leave that part off of his verbal invitations, though he was starting to wonder if everyone understood the subtext. Certainly the misunderstanding would explain why, after 45 minutes, Kierra still hadn’t shown up. Thankfully, Mason always invited the rest of the fourth floor to his parties, or their turnout would be enough to make him hide in social shame for the remainder of his college education.
“You gotta stop staring at the door, man,” Frankie said, sliding up to stand next to him. “If it does open and you’re doing laser eyes, you’re gonna look creepy.”
“Am I that obvious?” Amused, Mason turned away from the door and towards Frankie. “Here, this should be better.”
“It would be if it weren’t for that forlorn puppy dog face you’ve got going on right now.”
Mason sighed. “It’s a crush, Frankie. I’m allowed to have them.”
“Not when they make you lame.”
“One day you’ll grow up, Frankie,” Mason said, taking a sip of his drink. “I look forward to that day.”
Just then the door opened, and Mason had to fight the urge to run up to it like an excited puppy dog. Instead he turned - slowly, suavely - and saw no Kierra. Instead her friends were there, and maybe she was right behind them - but no sign of her.
“Hi, nice to have you,” he said to them, trying not to show his disappointment that they hadn’t brought Kierra. “It’s always good to have the underclassmen so we can pass on the legacy.”
The short, pink-haired girl smiled at that, but the tall one looked more dubious. “Legacy of… drinking grain alcohol and shoving carbs in your face?”
Tom, of course, was who she was referring to. He looked like he wanted to make a retort, but his mouth was too full of pizza.
“Kierra couldn’t come, by the way,” pink-haired girl said. “She was sick, but she sends her apologies. I’m Lacy, her roommate, and this is Leila.”
“She didn’t seem sick earlier,” Mason said, trying to parse some hidden girl language meaning from them. “Is she okay?”
“Don’t worry
about it,” said the tall girl - Leila, he reminded himself. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
There was an awkward moment then, when none of them knew what to do. Mason had a feeling they didn’t know any of the other fourth floor residents, and it had to be weird, to come to a party without the friend who’d actually been invited.
“Tom,” he said, turning to him and pushing him forward, “swallow your pizza and say hello to Leila.”
He gave him his best WTF face, but did it, smiling gamely like a gentleman. “Nice to meet you.”
“And Frankie, I think you know Lacy,” he said, pushing him forward as well.
“Hello,” Lacy said, shaking his hand. “We haven’t met, I don’t think.”
As soon as he was sure they were preoccupied with each other, Mason slipped past them and out the door. If Kierra really was sick, he wanted to make sure he saw her and got to make her feel better. And if she wasn’t, and this was just some excuse to ditch him, better to find out now.
As soon as her friends were gone, Kierra began to cry in earnest. And once she started, as she typically found, it was impossible to stop. Within minutes she was in a full-on, face-scrunching, hyperventilating sob. The tissues came flowing, the sad music went on, and she changed into her sweatpants with her hair up in a messy bun.
Needless to say, she wasn’t expecting anyone to knock on the door.
“Who is it?” she called out, nose noticeably stuffed from all her crying. “Is that you, Lacy? Please tell me that’s you.”
“Mason,” came the voice at the door. “I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I’d come check on you.”
At least by now I actually do look sick, she thought, although this literally couldn’t be a worse look for me. “Just a sec!” she called out, scrambling to fix her hair and face in the mirror. It took some effort, but she managed to make her bun look more purposeful, and with some mascara her eyes looked more come-hither and less demon-like.
The Valentine's Dare (The Sycamore Serial Book 1) Page 4
