Author: Cheryl McIntyre

“Say no to what?” Mason hisses.

“How do you know?” Kellin asks.

With a look in Mason’s direction I say, “He wants to ask her out. You know, like a boyfriend.” My lips curl up in an evil smile, teasing him before I glance into the backseat. “And I know because I’m a girl and I see the way she looks at you. It’s pretty much the same way you look at her.”

“How do I look at her?”

Mason laughs. “Like you’re a starving dog and she’s wearing a skirt made of meat.” Kellin’s face morphs into a brighter shade of pink, but he laughs as well.

“Like your teacher just assigned a pop quiz and Misty has all the answers tattooed on her face,” I add.

“Like you’ve been in the desert for a week and she’s a bottle of ice cold water,” Mason continues.

Kellin grins at Mason in the rearview mirror. “Like you look at Hope?”

I feel my face heat up now. Mason’s eyes dart from the mirror to me and back again. “Yeah, exactly like that,” he says. “Damn, Kel. You’ve got it bad.”

Kellin leans into the seat and sighs. “I know.”

I clear my throat and smile at him encouragingly. “Just ask her. She likes you. After you leave every day, all she does is talk about you. It’s annoying, really. And just imagine, dating an older woman. You’ll be a legend.”

Mason quirks his brow at me. “A legend?”

I shrug. I don’t know. “It sounded good.”

“If you like the girl half as much as I think you do then tell her,” Mason instructs his brother. “If she turns you down, which I don’t think will happen, then at least you’ll know where you stand. And if she does what I expect she’ll do and says yes, well, then that’ll be awesome. Right?”

“But how do I tell her?”

“When you think about her, what comes to mind?” Mason asks.

Kellin considers this for a moment. A small smile forms and he lets out his breath slowly. “She smells good. Like cookies or cake or something.”

“Vanilla,” I offer. “I got it for her for Christmas last year.”

“Yeah, that’s it. When we play basketball, her sweat mixes with the vanilla. I try to steal the ball just so I can smell her. And her hair’s soft. Her ponytail rubs against my arm sometimes and I wanna run my fingers through it.”

Mason clears his throat. “You can start by telling her that,” he says. “Maybe not as detailed, but soft hair and smelling nice is good. What else?” I notice he has this expression on his face that I can’t interpret. But Kellin goes on, pulling my focus away.

“She’s smart. She helps me with my homework. She’s really nice. And she does this thing when she’s thinking, where she sucks on the corner of her lip. It makes me wanna—” He stops abruptly. His cheeks are bright red now and I stifle a laugh.

Damn. Kellin wants to make out with Misty. I turn my head slowly and meet Mason’s eyes. He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement.

“Let’s stick with asking her out for now,” he suggests.

Annie lies back in her bed and checks the alarm on the nightstand. “What’s going on with you and Mason Patel? Did you break up with Park for good?”

“Uh, yeah. Park and I are done. Mason and I… He’s my boyfriend.” The word sounds strange coming from my mouth.

“Really? Like, officially?” I nod and she returns the gesture. “He’s hot as hell. ‘Course, so is Park. Everybody’s talking about it at school. Half my friends hate you for breaking Park’s heart after keeping him off the market for so long. The other half hates you for taking Mason.”

“What’s new? You’re friends have always hated me,” I mutter.

“Yeah, but before they hated you because they wanted a piece of Park and you had dibs on his ownership papers. Now they have twice the ammunition.” She examines a bottle of nail polish I left on the stand. “Can I borrow this?”

I nod dismissively. “What do you mean? First of all, I was never with Park, but besides that fact that nobody can seem to accept, we’re done. He’s free to date whoever he wants.” The idea of Park with another girl causes a slight twinge in my stomach. For the past year he showed no interest in anyone but me. I don’t know how I’ll feel seeing his arms around someone else. I think of Mason and that helps relieve my panic, but I recognize the dull pain burning in my chest, marking the end of whatever it was Park and I had.

“Rumor has it, Park is holding out.”

“Holding out for what?” I ask, confused.

She looks at me incredulously. “He’s waiting on you, Hope. Your whole ‘no commitment’ thing?” She bunny ears her words. “He doesn’t think this thing with Mason will last long.”

“He’s wrong,” I say, irritated. Huh. Did I just say that? Yes, and I meant it. I grab my cell phone off the charger and storm out of the room, heading outside so I’ll have some privacy.

Park picks up on the second ring. “Hope?”

“Yeah. We need to talk.”

“All right,” he says languidly. His voice is soft, low. “Talk.”

Taking a deep breath, I forge on. “I care about you and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I care about you too.”

“But,” I continue, ignoring him. “I am so mad at you for telling Guy and Mason about—my vice. We can never be what we were before. I’m with Mason now. I’m with him with him.”

The silence stretches out and I close my eyes.

“You’re with him?” He hisses the words into the phone and my eyes pop open.

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Great. Congratulations. I need to go.”

“Park, wait,” I murmur.

“What, Hope? What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you. And fuck Mason. I hope you’re both fucking happy together.” The line goes dead and I stare at my phone.

Well that went well. But at least it’s done. He has his closure. I have mine. The girls at school will have theirs.

I sit on the step and text Mason.

Me: U STILL UP?

Him: YEP. WHAT’S UP?

Me: JUST THINKING ABOUT U.

Him: REALLY? WHAT ABOUT ME?

I smile as I key in my next text. Me: I CAN’T GET THOSE BOXERS OUT OF MY HEAD.

Him: COME OVER. I HAVE ANOTHER PAIR.

Me: RIGHT NOW?

Him: YES. PLEASE?

Me: REALLY?

Him: DON’T MAKE ME BEG YOU.

I bite my lip. I’m already outside. Everyone else is in bed. I doubt they’d miss me. I text Guy to cover for me before I respond to Mason.

Me: DIRECTIONS?

Chapter 27

Mason

It takes Hope ten minutes to get here. I open the door before she has a chance to knock. I don’t want Kel waking up. She smiles at me and I have a sudden bout of nerves. This is the first time she’s seeing my house. I move out of the way, giving her space to get through the door.

There are still boxes piled along one wall, waiting to be unpacked. Her eyes brush over them. She circles the living room, her fingers skimming across the couch, the desk, the ancient computer.

“You want something to drink?” I ask her because my throat feels too dry.

She nods. “Some water?”

I turn into the kitchen and she follows me. “Oh, wow. Your kitchen’s really clean,” she observes.

I chuckle. “It’s just the three of us. Mom’s usually sleeping or working and Kel and I are at school or your house. Pretty easy clean up.”

She takes the glass I offer her. I gulp mine down while she sips hers. “Where’s your room?”

I stare at her over the rim of my glass. She does that thing that drives me crazy, dropping her lashes leisurely and looking at me through them. I take the glass from her, setting both on the counter, and take her hand. She pauses halfway down the hall and I think she’s changed her mind, deciding she’s not ready to be alone in my room with me, but when I look back she’s examining a picture on the wall.

“Your dad,” she says. It doesn’t sound like a question, but I nod. “You look just like him, except the hair obviously. Does your mom have your dark hair?”

I nod again and she moves around me. “Which one?” she whispers.

I point at my door and watch as she opens it, moving inside. I reach for the light switch at the same time she does and I hear her quick intake of breath as our hands meet in the dark. “Sorry,” I say barely audibly.

She takes another step in and let’s her gaze drift around my small space. Her fingers trail over the books and movies on my shelf and she smiles. It’s mostly horror, her favorite. She moves on to the shelf of CD’s. “Hey, you know Dead End Days?”

“Yeah. I’m from Illinois, remember?”

Hope scrunches her nose. So freaking cute. “He’s from Ohio. The lead singer is, I mean.”

“But he lives in Chicago now,” I correct her. “I’m surprised you know them.”

“Female drummer. Of course I know them. Great band.”

“Yeah, it is.”

She finally turns to the bed and walks right over to it, kicking her shoes off and sitting in the middle. “Great bed,” she says so softly I almost miss it.

I swallow hard. “Yeah, it is.”

I watch as she lies back on my pillow. Her shirt rides up as she rests her arms above her head just like she did the first time I saw her. Hope lying on my bed is the most perfect thing I have ever seen. Straight out of my fantasies and into my room. “It smells like you.”

I dip my chin. “What do I smell like?”

Propping herself on her elbows she manages a slight shrug. “Like boy soap and fabric softener. I like it. It’s nice.” Hope gazes up at me, her eyes boring into mine with fascination. “Why am I here, Mason?”

That throws me off. I stare at the exposed strip of pale stomach. It amazes me that this little piece of skin can turn me on as much as seeing her at the pond in her underwear, dripping wet, her hair sticking to her... “What was the question?”

She sits up. “I was promised shamrock boxers. Are you going to deliver?”

“I can’t get in that bed with you,” I say as it dawns on me. “Being good, remember?”

Peering up at me, Hope slips out of her shirt. The light pink bra she’s wearing makes her look so girly. So soft. So incredibly gorgeous. I realize I’m not breathing and suck air in quickly. Extending her arm, she drops the tank top to the floor and lies back once again. “And you remember I didn’t ask for you to be good. I want you to touch me.” Dear, God. She has no idea how much I want that too.

And then she throws my words back at me. “Don’t make me beg you,” she breathes.

Her words set me on fire, causing my body to burn with need. Nothing could stop me now. I crawl up the bed, moving over her little by little, dropping kisses on her legs. Taking my time on her smooth stomach. Paying special attention to her belly button. My fingers graze the indentations between her ribs.

Her breathing speeds with every move of my lips. I meet her eyes as I reach for the front clasp of her bra, giving her time to tell me to stop, but she doesn’t. Her chest rises faster and faster and I’m about to lose it just watching her reaction to me. I slide the lacy material away and taste her bare skin, my eyes still locked with hers. With one last kiss, I let my gaze drop and my hand replaces my mouth. My thumb skims her tightened pink nipple.

Hope wiggles under me while pulling on my shirt at the same time. She works us into the position she wants and draws my mouth to hers, whimpering as our tongues meet, and my eyes threaten to tear up.