Author: Cheryl McIntyre

His kiss softens, turning tender and it finally clicks what he did for me. He pulls away enough to look at me. “Your back is bleeding,” he says gruffly. “We should clean it up.”

I take my seat in Biology, ignoring the irritated glares from Carly I’ve been receiving all week, and pull out my notebook. I know the moment Mason comes in because Carly turns in her seat, facing the chair to her left. I look up just as he leans down. He kisses me, a soft brush of lips, but it lingers. He pulls away slowly and produces a package of Twizzlers from behind his back.

The corners of my mouth turn up as I take them. “Thanks,” I say. He grins and dips his head with one nod before dropping into his chair. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I wiggle it out to look at the screen.

“Why doesn’t Guy have a nickname?” Mason asks, his lips pouting out in confusion.

“’Cause he’s Guy,” I say. I press the button and try to hide my cell underneath my hair. “Why are you calling me during school?”

Guy sighs. “Obviously because it’s important. We got offered two hundred bucks to play Warren Grant’s party Saturday.”

“Warren Grant can’t afford two hundred bucks. He spends all his money on herbs.”

“His stepdad is paying. Guess the dude’s loaded and sucking up to Warren, trying to bond or some dumb shit like that. The point is that’s like… How much is that a person?”

“Fifty,” I sigh.

“Exactly. Fifty bucks a person. We all need the money. Plus, it’s Warren Grant’s party. Everybody will be there. We could develop a whole new following.”

Mason raises his brows, only getting half the conversation and apparently curious about the other half. Nosy. “Yeah, everyone will be there,” I mutter. “Warren hangs with all the assholes in this school.” I look pointedly at Carly as she glowers at me.

“It’ll be good for the band,” Guy whines.

I turn sideways in my seat, away from Mason. “Is there still a band? I had a pretty unpleasant conversation with Park last night. He’s pissed. Like, seriously pissed.”

“How pissed is seriously pissed, exactly?”

“Shut up. Talk to Park and Chase and get back to me.”

“Already did. They’re all for it. Park just has one condition,” Guy says quickly.

I freeze. “What is the condition?”

He clears his throat and I know he’s uncomfortable relaying this information. “No Mason.” Something flutters in my stomach and I feel like I could throw up. I don’t like that sentence one bit.

“What does that mean? Like at all, or during the party?” I glance at Mason. He’s watching me closely, an obvious annoyed expression plastered across his face. I frown at him. He couldn’t have heard Guy. Could he?

“During the party.” Not that it really matters because my answer would be the same either way.

“No.”

“Come on, Hope. I know it’s stupid and he has no right to be a prick, but it’s the only way he’ll do it. We need this.”

“No. Goodbye.” I end the call and shove my phone back into my pocket. There’s no point arguing about this. I will not give Mason up, even for one night.

“When did you talk to Park?” Mason asks immediately.

“Last night,” I say trying to understand where his clipped tone is coming from. “Why?”

He leans on my table, hugging his elbows. “Before or after you came to my house?”

“Before. Again, why?”

“Well, gee, I don’t know, Hope.” He leans closer, dropping his voice. “Maybe I’m just curious if my girlfriend was talking to her ex-boyfriend before or after we had sex for the first time.”

Oh. “Okay. One, I can talk to whoever I want. Park’s been my friend for a long time and just because I’m pissed at him doesn’t mean he doesn’t matter to me anymore. Two, he’s not my ex-boyfriend and you know that. And three, he is the lead singer of the band I’m in. We are going to see and speak to each other a lot.”

“All right. Fine. But you could have mentioned it to me.” He pulls back, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looks at me expectantly.

“Really? I need to give you a detailed summary of every conversation I have with Park? Or does it even stop there? Do you want a report when I talk to Guy and Chase too?”

“No. Just Park. And just the general idea.”

He’s serious. Is this normal? I honestly don’t know. I never did this whole boyfriend thing before. Park never cared who I talked to. Of course, I never really talked to anyone. Damn it.

I raise a brow and purse my lips. “Fine. Annie said he didn’t think you and I would last. He was waiting for you to get tired of my lack of commitment. I set him straight. He didn’t take it well. Happy?”

Mason’s lips twitch like he wants to smile, but thinks better of it at the last second. “Yes. Thank you.” He stops fighting it, freeing the dimpled grin. “So what’s going on?” He gestures at me, indicating my phone call with Guy, I assume.

“Have you always been this nosy?”

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes. “Warren Grant is having a party Saturday and wants us to play.” I stop there because I have no intentions of going.

“Well, that’s good. Right?”

Mr. Roberts calls the class to attention and Mason turns around hesitantly. I consider the subject finished.

Chapter 29

Mason

Hope’s quiet on the way to lunch. I take her hand and receive a small smile, but it’s apparent something is bothering her. I probably pissed her off with my temper tantrum about Park. Yeah, that was shitty of me. She’s one hundred percent right. All three points she ticked off were legit. I’m acting like a little boy, I know, but it freaks me out. She was with him/not really with him for a year. Their break up/not really break up is still fresh. They have the band. He’s Guy’s best friend and Guy is her best friend. They have this history and connection that I don’t and—I’m jealous. I should trust her. She’s my girlfriend. We’re together. In a real relationship. She never had that with Park. But I can’t help being protective of her. Being protective of us. I’m in new territory and haven’t worked out the best way to handle it yet. But I’m trying. I’m determined not to totally fuck this up again.

“Hey. I’m sorry about earlier. About Park. I was being stupid and jealous and... Well, I’m just sorry.”

She smirks. “You’ve done a lot of apologizing since I met you.”

I scratch my neck uncomfortably. I have, haven’t I? “Yeah. I screw up a lot, so it kind of goes together.”

“We’re good,” she says. I squeeze her fingers. “Kiss me before we go in there.”

I pull on her hand bringing us chest to chest and lower my head. I kiss her gently and she hums happily against my mouth. Hell. I really, really wish we weren’t at school.

“You’re going to make me puke,” Chase calls loudly as he passes us, moving through the doors. He glances back making a gagging gesture.

“Bite me,” Hope replies. Chase pauses and does an about face, walking toward us with purpose. “You touch me with that mouth and I’ll hurt you.” Hope slaps at him and he laughs.

“Tease,” he says with an exaggerated shake of his head.

I put my hand on his chest. “Back off my girl. I like you, don’t make me have to kick your ass.”

Chase huffs. “Like you could, Patel. I’ve been working out.” He pulls his sleeve up to his shoulder and flexes his gangly arm. “Look at that.” He lowers his limb and nods his head. “It’s okay, I know it’s intimidating.”

“Like a bunny,” I say.

“A rabid bunny. With fangs,” Chase adds seriously. I laugh and Hope nudges us into the cafeteria.

“So, did you agree to Park’s terms?” Chase asks. My brows pull together as I look at Hope for clarification. What terms?

She closes her eyes for a moment and when she answers, it’s through clenched teeth. “No. I did not.”

“What terms?” I ask and I know I sound every bit as guarded as I feel, but seriously, what terms?

Chase looks from Hope to me. Back and forth several times. He tucks his lips and shakes his head. “Nothing. Never mind.” Hell no.

I throw my hand back up on his chest as he tries to walk away. “Hold up. What terms? What are you talking about?”

He looks down at my hand and then raises his eyebrows at me pointedly, but I’m not backing down. I want to know what Park thinks he can get Hope to agree to. I glare venomously at him, giving my own message.

“Not me, man. I’m not the one you have beef with, so back up.” He wraps his hand around my wrist and it takes me a few tense seconds to drop my arm. My first instinct is always to fight, but he’s right. I’m not pissed at him. I nod, letting him know I’m cool. He shoots Hope a look and she rolls her eyes.

“Park doesn’t want you to go to Warren’s party,” she explains. “That’s the only way he’ll do it. I wasn’t even going to mention it because it doesn’t matter. I said no.”

I may make stupid decisions from time to time, but I’m not a complete moron. I know there is only one reason Park would put this stipulation on Hope. And there is no freaking way I am letting it go. It’s time I make shit real clear for the guys in this school.

I pivot on my heel, jaw grinding as I scan faces. As soon as I spot him I move toward his table quickly. I’m just itching to put my fist through something right now. Hope cuts. I fight. We all deal with our shit in different ways.

Every muscle is tense as I stop in front of Park’s seat. He looks up at me and the disdain he regards me with is miniscule compared to the red hot rage I know is radiating off me. I want to beat his ass and I don’t even care that he’s Hope’s ex or Guy’s friend.

“You need to walk away from me, right now,” Park says through his teeth.

Oh, yeah. I want to hurt this asshole. “You need to stop making demands. Especially when it comes to my girl.” I stress the end, unmistakably staking my claim for everyone around to hear. Hope’s mine.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Park spits.

“No. It’s mine,” Hope says calmly. I turn my head and she’s staring hard at Park.

“I don’t want him there,” he says, his voice low. “This is hard enough. The band is mine. I should at least get that.”

All the air seems to leave Hope, deflating her. “All right.” She holds his gaze. “You can have the band. Find a new drummer.”

“What?” Chase says from behind me. “No.”

Park sits forward in his chair, resting his hands flat on the table in front of him. “That’s not what I meant—”

“That’s what you get,” Hope interrupts. They’re locked in some kind of silent debate. It takes every ounce of strength not to step in between them, cutting off his view of her.

Park finally cracks. He drops his eyes, squinting at the table. “Bring whoever you want. I don’t give a shit anymore.” He gives me a fierce glance, anger rolling off him in waves. “But just so we’re clear—” He stands up, his chair sliding out loudly in the eerily quiet cafeteria. I close my hand, making a fist. “You come near me outside of school, you’ll regret it.” And then he turns around and walks away. He turned his back on me, not only cutting off my response, but telling me loud and clear he isn’t afraid of me. He should be, though, and that’s what bothers me most. I outweigh the guy by at least a good twenty pounds. I have a few inches on him. I’ve been in my share of fights. I look at Hope and imagine losing her a year from now and the pain in my chest has me looking back to Park’s retreating form. He’s a man with nothing left to lose. He’s in love with her and she broke his heart. For me. And I don’t know how to feel. I’m not about to give her up, but I actually think I might feel a little bad for the guy. I sure as hell don’t want that to be me. Ever.