by Erin Noelle
I pulled my head out and proceeded to tell her about how wonderful the date was but how Dylan started acting all weird, and then how I had forgotten to let Ash know I wasn’t going to Jacob’s, so he got worried… again.
“He was so worried he had to come check on you here?” She lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. “You expect me to believe that y’all are still just friends after everything I’ve seen in the last two days?”
“Nothing happened, Evie. I swear. We just slept. He didn’t even get here until after one,” I tried to explain.
She was quiet for a minute and then said, “Look, like I told you yesterday and the day before that, do what you feel is right for you. I’ll be here to support you no matter what. I was just surprised to see him.”
I nodded, knowing she wished I would stay as far away from Ash as possible. She was well aware of my weakness and vulnerability when it came to him, as was I. Remembering her coming home in the middle of the night, I asked, “Hey, why did you come home at like three this morning, and was Max with you? I thought y’all were staying at his place.”
“I got a headache and didn’t have any medicine on me, so Max and I decided to just stay the night here. He’s still asleep in my bed.”
“A headache?” I blurted out. “I thought you stopped getting them since you got the glasses?”
“Dude, chill out.” Evie waved her hand like it was no big deal. “It wasn’t too bad. I think I got it because I didn’t have any caffeine yesterday. You know, like withdrawals or something.”
“Please promise you will tell me if you start getting them again like before,” I pleaded with her. There was something strange about her getting all these headaches in the last few months when I could count on one hand the number she had endured in her lifetime previously.
“I will, I will. Jeez, Scarlett. And don’t try to change the subject to focus on me. I believe we were discussing you and your slew of gorgeous guys—”
“There is no ‘slew,’” I interrupted. “And I’m really tired of thinking and talking about them and what it all means all the time.” I had developed a headache myself trying to analyze and scrutinize my relationship with each of the guys who had recently entered my life. I obviously felt something for each of them, but I wasn’t sure exactly what that something was. “So beginning right now, I’m imposing a boy-free Sunday. Let’s do a bunch of girly things together like we used to. You in?”
Evie looked over at her closed bedroom door and then back at me. A slow grin crept across her face. “That sounds awesome, but first I’ve got to get rid of Max.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Evie. I forgot he was here. If you were planning on hanging out with Max today, we can do it another time.” I tried hard not to allow my disappointment to show in my voice, but it was impossible.
“No, I was actually thinking we needed to do a movie marathon with our favorite vampires and werewolves before the next movie comes out next Thursday night. You up for chillaxing today?” she asked, already knowing what my answer would be.
“I need to change into my Team Edward T-shirt.” My face lit up at just the thought.
“Okay, give me an hour and I’ll meet you on the couch,” she said, already walking toward her room.
Twenty-Two
Evie and I spent the rest of that Sunday just as we planned, on our couch stuffing our faces with popcorn and candy as if we were at an actual theater. I welcomed the refuge from my thoughts about my own life that were getting more and more complicated.
Later that evening, my mom called inquiring about my plans for Thanksgiving. I wondered aloud if she was serious. Where else was I going to go? She then proceeded to tell me how I wasn’t the daughter she raised, how she couldn’t believe I could be so rude and unappreciative to the people who sacrificed everything for me… and that was about the point I tuned her out. I wasn’t in the mood to really get into it with her, so I just let her bitch until she finished.
I just replied, “Okay, Mom, you’re right. I’ll be there the day before and leave the day after. I gotta go study. See you then,” and hung up. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it forty-two hours in her house. Yes, I had counted the hours.
As far as I was concerned, it was going to be as close to torture as anything I had ever faced. I was depending heavily on my grandparents and my brother and his family to act as a buffer while I was there. I figured if things got too bad, I could always retreat to Evie’s house. For the first time since I stood up to my parents, I began to second-guess my actions. When I envisioned the whole confrontation, there was much less yelling and much more understanding on their part. But since that wasn’t the way it happened, I was faced with these awkward family moments I had never considered before.
After hanging up on her, I picked up my guitar and immersed myself in my music, reveling in the sweet release. It didn’t escape me that I had spent most of the day engaged in activities that kept me from focusing on questions I needed to answer about what I was doing and what I wanted. But I wasn’t quite ready to have that talk with myself, so I opted for more music and less thinking.
I literally played until my fingers hurt, and then I showered and got ready for bed. I checked my phone one last time before laying my head on the pillow… nothing.
The next several days passed quickly, with classes and time spent working on a History project I had due the following week. When I woke up Monday morning, I had a text from Ash waiting for me, wishing me a good morning and telling me that he had finally got the timing down for a song he’d been working on. We had a quick exchange of messages, and miraculously, everything seemed to be back to normal with us, or back to pre-Friday, since I really wasn’t sure what we were was really normal. Mason made my Tuesday by texting the following morning when I was in class, and I couldn’t help but chuckle when I later reread our conversation.
Mason (10:43 a.m.): Morning, angel. You in class today?
Me (10:45 a.m.): Morning, lose the angel, and unfortunately, yes
Mason (10:52 a.m.): You aren’t going to win this one, angel. Let it go. What time do you get out?
Me (11:00 a.m.): I will win, Rat boy, and 1:00, but I’ve got to work on a project this afternoon. Why? What’s up?
Mason (11:04 a.m.): I like when you call me Rat. Want to grab a bite to eat tonight? You have to stop to eat, right?
Me (11:06 a.m.): Don’t worry, that will be the last time I ever call you that.
Mason (11:07 a.m.): What’s wrong with rats? Templeton was a cute little guy. He was always helping out that girl and the pig.
Me (11:10 a.m.): What’s wrong with rats? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Rats are disgusting, disease-infested, repulsive rodents. Ewww
Mason (11:14 a.m.): Cartoon rats, angel! Sweet, fluffy, cartoon rats…
Me (11:17 a.m.): Like Pinky and the Brain? Two sweet, fluffy, cartoon rats… ha!
Mason (11:18 a.m.): Mickey Mouse
Me (11:20 a.m.): Splinter
Mason (11:23 a.m.): Remy from Ratatouille
Me (11:25 a.m.): Jerry, he was a mean little shit to poor Tom
Mason (11:29 a.m.): Fievel Mouskewitz
Me (11:37 a.m.): You really know Fievel’s last name? You should be hiding somewhere in shame right now. Just wait until I share that tidbit of info with the rest of Jobu’s Rum.
Mason (11:44 a.m.): Haha, blackmail does not become you, angel.
Me (11:50 a.m.): It’s not blackmail if I don’t want anything in return
Mason (11:54 a.m.): Are you always so giving? Never wanting anything in return for yourself?
Me (11:57 a.m.): I’m good. I don’t need anything
Mason (12:02 p.m.): You don’t think you need anything, but I can show you otherwise. Come to dinner with me tonight, I’ll show you a little of what you’re missing
Me (12:15 p.m.): Pick me up at 6
Mason (12:15 p.m.): Cool
As soon as my last class ended, I rushed back to the apartment, anxious to get started on my project so I
could finish in time to shower and freshen up before Mason picked me up. I was excited to see him again, not having to wait until Friday after all; however, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being more than a little nervous.
When I messed around with him the previous weekend, I truly didn’t think I would ever talk to him again, much less be having dinner with him four nights later. I wasn’t sure what he was going to expect from me. A repeat performance? More? I shuddered in anticipation just thinking about it.
Evie had gone straight from her last class to a study group session with one of her other classes, so I was left to my own opinions while getting ready. The only other time Mason had seen me, I was wearing Evie’s clothes, so I was curious to see his reaction when I was dressed in my own style. I was in a blue-and-white-striped casual summer dress, as it was still in the high seventies here some nights, paired with none other than my old faithful boots. I braided my hair into two braids, since I was pressed for time, and at five ‘til six, a knock on the door pulled me from my final inspection in the bathroom mirror. I grabbed my purse and greeted Mason with a huge smile and an open mind.
“Oh, wow,” he said, not hiding the fact that he was looking up and down my body. “You look even better than I remembered.” His words made my heart flutter, and when he stepped toward me and kissed me softly on the lips, my stomach began a string of endless somersaults.
He looked exactly as I remembered—tall, strong, handsome, and dangerous. He was dressed similar to how he had been on Friday, dark jeans and a solid gray fitted T-shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. I wondered if we looked a little mismatched. He definitely looked the part of a lead in a rock band with all of his tattoos and piercings, and I looked… well, I kind of looked like a farm girl.
“Damn, angel, the hair and the boots…” He lightly tugged on my pigtails, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Are you trying to kill me?”
I guess he liked the farm-girl look.
I shook my head and looked down at my feet. “Is this okay for wherever we’re going?”
“You look perfect. Come on, I have something I want you to see.” Mason grabbed my hand and led me down the hall and out to the parking lot. I looked around for his car as we approached the visitor parking area but didn’t see it. Instead, a brand-new black Harley Davidson was parked in the first spot of the paved section. I stopped walking and looked at him incredulously.
“Tell me you didn’t buy a motorcycle.” It came out more like a question than a statement, but I already knew the answer. It was staring directly at me. He smirked and replied, “Well, I hated to disappoint you, angel. I just got it today.”
I walked closer to it, inspecting it like I knew something, anything, about motorcycles. All I could tell was that it was black and shiny and a Harley. I was glad that at least he hadn’t gotten a crotch rocket; there was no way in hell I was getting on one of those. “Why?” I wondered as I looked up into his slate eyes.
“Well, now I’m the total package, right?” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I couldn’t help but throw my head back in laughter.
“Your package was just fine before the bike,” I replied.
He stepped behind me, pulled my back to his chest by wrapping his colorful arms around my midsection, and seductively said in my ear, “I’m glad you enjoyed my package so much.”
Giggling, I turned around to face Mason and loved seeing the playfulness in his expression. I draped my arms around his neck and attempted the same sultry voice he used moments earlier. “It’s the most magnificent package I’ve ever seen.” And I pressed a light peck at the corner of his mouth.
He groaned and pulled my lips back to his, demanding a longer, more intimate kiss. “Don’t say things like that, Scarlett. We’ll never make it to dinner,” he groaned into my mouth.
I pulled back a bit and looked down at my outfit, wondering if I should change out of my dress to get on the motorcycle. As if he could read my mind, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bike. “Don’t even think about it. One of the main reasons I bought this damn thing is to feel your arms and legs wrapped around me while we ride. And it’s even better if you’re wearing a skirt.”
I knew better than to think he wouldn’t have a line of girls waiting to snuggle up to his chiseled body, but I was flattered I was going to be the first on his new toy. At least I was going to be his first something.
“Seriously, why did you buy the bike?” I asked.
Mason shrugged as if going out and buying a motorcycle was an everyday occurrence. “I’ve wanted one for a while, so when you said something the other day about how you were surprised I didn’t have one, it made me wonder why I didn’t. So, I got one.”
“Well, of course you did,” I said sarcastically. “Did you pick me up a car while you were out?”
“You don’t have a car?”
“Uh, no. My parents thought if I had a car, there would be a better chance of me sneaking out at night or running away,” I admitted.
“Wow, that’s so… weird. You’re lucky you turned out so normal,” he said with a confused face. I loved Mason’s honesty and unapologetic comments. Much like a child, the filter from his brain to his mouth left quite a bit to be desired for many, but I appreciated his candidness.
“Don’t be so sure I am all that normal.”
He kissed me quickly one more time before throwing his right leg over the bike and starting it. I inhaled sharply at the sight of him perched on the rumbling Harley. I had been right—it did complete the package. The vision of Mason sitting on that motorcycle oozed sex straight from his dark buzzed hair down to the chrome of the wheels. I unconsciously squeezed my upper thighs together, trying to ease the ache that emerged.
“Get on. Let’s give you your first motorcycle ride and get some dinner.” He flashed me that panty-dropping smile and his eyes locked on mine. I happily obliged.
Dinner went much like our breakfast together had. He took me to his favorite burger place, so it was nice and casual. We joked around about funny things we lost ourselves in on the internet. I admitted my strange obsession with the websites that showed auto-corrected text conversations. I could spend hours upon hours reading those and laugh until I was crying. He confessed to spending endless hours surfing YouTube watching anything and everything. We ranked childhood cartoons and best infomercials. My vote was still for either the Sham-wow or the Ginsu knives, but Mason was a strong supporter of the Slap Chop.
Our conversation rarely led us to discuss our pasts or any serious topics. We openly flirted and, without blatantly engaging in PDA, we would each find an excuse to touch or brush up against the other. That in itself became a game to see who was willing to go the furthest without the other acknowledging what was happening. It began innocent enough with his hand brushing against mine on the table. In response, I crossed my legs so that my foot rested against his calf. We continued the back and forth, and then the next thing I knew, his hand had traveled up my leg, under my dress, and was lightly tracing circles on my inner thigh, just inches from my blue lace panties. I could feel myself getting wet just at the thought of his fingers touching me, and the fact that we were in public and holding a normal conversation about which cereal was better made it even more hot.
I knew my face was flushed. I could feel the heat as it consumed my body. Mason seemed to like the effect he was having on me, and when I placed my hand in a similar place on his leg, I felt he was experiencing similar reactions. He leaned in toward me and said lowly, “If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m not going to be able to walk properly.”
I smiled. I liked knowing I drove him crazy with want. I moved my lips about a half an inch from his and whispered, “What are we waiting for?”
He stood up instantly, grabbed several twenties out of his wallet, and threw them on the table. I knew that was way too much money for what we had eaten, but Mason obviously didn’t feel like waiting for the bill. He grabbed my hand and led me out of the restaurant and to t
he Harley. I wasn’t sure what it was about him, but being around him made me lose most of my sexual inhibitions and want to try all kinds of nasty things I had only read and fantasized about.
Mason’s apartment was less than ten minutes away, and when we arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. The brick complex appeared to be newer construction and was very well kept. He lived on the top floor of a three-story building. The interior was decorated in a simple, contemporary style and was exceptionally clean.
Again, he knew exactly what I was thinking while I looked around, and said, “I have a weekly housekeeper and she was just here today.”
I laughed. “Well, that explains it. I was wondering if you were an OCD clean freak or something.”
“Nah, I’m not a slob or anything, but I’m not into mopping floors or scrubbing toilets.” He grabbed my hand in his and said, “We can do the grand tour later. First, you need to see my bedroom.”
I allowed him to pull me down the short hallway and into his room, which was amazing. He had a huge California king bed with all white bedding that stood out against the deep cherry wood of the furniture. It sat high off the floor, and I thought I may actually have to crawl up into it. There was a collage of black and white photographs of different guitars on the wall opposite the bed. Gauzy white curtains framed the large window, and a large white rug spread across most of the hardwood floor.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
“I’m glad you like it,” he murmured in my ear as he positioned himself behind me. He began to dust feathery light kisses all over my neck and shoulders, and I couldn’t help but moan in pleasure.
“Mason, we need to talk about something first.” I barely managed to get the words out.
He stopped and turned me around by the shoulders. He looked deep into my eyes with his. “What is it, angel? Is everything okay?” He seemed to be truly concerned.
