The Frank Straus Foundation's annual gala: a big occasion in the calendar of Chelsea Football Club. Since the gaffer's arrival, he made sure to include the players in his event along with the other big names on the guest list. He insisted that the event allowed us a time to do some good away from football while getting in some extra team bonding. I'd attended as a newbie in his first season and even in the state I attended last year, this was the first time I felt real nerves for the event.
Despite my run-around day, Mason played at my mind from the second I woke up. How was I meant to act when I saw him? Pretend last night hadn't happened? Keep my distance? Sure, he hadn't explicitly said he broke up with his girlfriend because of me, but he definitely implied it, right? I had no idea what to do with that information â how to respond to it.
I was no closer to knowing later that day when our taxi stopped outside his house. The day's activities made this seem so far away, yet here I was. With shaking hands, I pulled down the sun visor in front of me and flipped open the mirror.
I had to admit that I looked pretty good, mostly thanks to Fran. Seeing the Belgian tear it up on the football pitch just about every day made it strange to imagine her as particularly feminine, but she loved all things beauty and fashion related almost as much as she loved the sport. The previous year, her somewhat secret deals with makeup brands and fashions labels came out, showing me a different but wonderful version of Fran. This year, she flexed her connections again by supplying me with the best makeup artist and hairstylist she could attract.
Meeting my eyes in the mirror, I couldn't stop from wondering what Mason would think. Self consciousness about the cast on my wrist made me go for the more conservative of the dresses Burberry had offered me: green, long sleeves, plunging V-neck. Still, though, compared to the previous night, it seemed like a ball gown. But would Mason have preferred the sequined option? Or something tighter? Grey eyes stared back at me, suddenly so unsure.
"Becks, let's go." Fran's voice sounded from outside the car, followed by her knuckles rapping on the widow next to me. "Come on, you look great."
Swallowing, I nodded to my reflection. Who cares what Mason thinks?
Stepping outside, the late October chill hit me. Shivers appeared on my bare legs as I turned to face Mason's house. Fran and Guilio were halfway up the stairs already when I reached the front gate. My heart hammered in my chest and my legs, already unsteady in my heels, trembled as they carried me forwards. I'd never been this nervous to see Mason before: not last night, not in Bulgaria, not before he arrived at my flat in the early hours of the morning.
The door opened at the top of the stairs and I looked down, not ready to set my eyes on Mason. I felt sick.
"Fran, jeez, you look great!"
When Kyle's voice sounded, I risked glancing up. He stood at the door, still considerably taller than Fran even with her heels. Guilio was busy shaking his hand while the pair laughed. Fran disappeared past him and when her boyfriend followed after her, I faced Kyle. I broke into a chuckle at his animated gape.
"Who are you and what did you do with Beck?" he joked.
He laughed as I rolled my eyes, sidestepping his hug. "That was uncalled for."
A long arm hooked me and pulled me into his side anyway. "You look awesome, Beck."
"You too," I groaned, pushing his arm off me. I didn't want my dress creasing. "I like the dreads. It's very vintage Kyle."
Kyle, a broad grin on his face, reached up to touch his new hairdo. "It'll never be as iconic as my 2017 dreads, but I'm trying."
A call from further inside the house caught his attention, and in a flash he was gone. Left alone, I shut Mason's front door and straightened out the skirt of my dress. Kyle offered a brief distraction, but now my head spun once more. Unable to help myself, I stepped in front of Mason's hallway mirror and gave myself a once-over.
My eyes were drawn to my wrist: I'd assumed the compulsory accessory on my left wrist would be more obvious. Thankfully, my sleeves were loose enough to hide the cast for the most part, but the black plastic covering my hand drew my gaze anyway. The injury itself still gave off a dull ache that I was slowly becoming used to.
Come to think of it, most of my body still ached after the previous night: the top of my right foot was bruised and my left calf had imprints of George Carroll's studs. The heels I wore did nothing to ease the pain from my foot: a strap pressed into the bruise at just the wrong place. On top of that, leaving the stadium without a proper massage or warm-down left stiffness clinging to my legs.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped back from the mirror. Fran and Kyle's voices sounded from the kitchen; I knew in a moment they'd come looking for me. And plus, I couldn't keep avoiding Mason forever. I turned to the side, about to enter the living room, when I looked up.
Haltering mid-step, all the blood in my body rushed to my cheeks as I spotted Mason descending the stairs. Fuck.
His eyes were trained down at the tie he was busy tying. He hadn't seen me yet. If I moved quickly enough, I could dart through to the living room unnoticed. As the thought crossed my mind, Mason raised his eyes.
I froze in place, locked in by his gaze as it fell on me. My heart pounded so loudly I could practically hear it. Mason, now only a few steps above me, blinked a few times, his mouth hanging open. But then a genuine smile inched across his face, creasing the corner of his eyes. By the time he came to a stop in front of me, his whole face glowed.
"Hi," I said feebly, realising how dry my mouth had gone. I moved my right hand behind my back and pushed my nails against my palm.
Hi? Really?
"Hart, youâ" He cut off and lifted a hand to scratch the side of his neck. "Youâwow. The dress... you look really great."
I grinned at his words, feeling the blush from my cheeks spread down my neck. Mason's cheeks were pink, too, which comforted me: it seemed like he was as nervy as I was.
"So do you," I replied honestly.
Giving him a sneaky survey, my heart leapt. Just as my dress seemed like a ball gown, his clean, black suit and tie was a stark contrast to the usual gear he wore (last night omitted). And if I didn't already know it before, I for sure knew now that Mason could weara suit.
The only thing off about his look was the tie. The fabric caught the stiff white collar of his shirt on one side and a loose, haphazard knot sat low down on his chest.
"Just, uh." Before I could think through my next move, I stepped forwards. "Your tie."
Lifting my hands, I flipped his collar up. In my heels, my eyes no longer stared at Mason's neck. Now, they levelled at his chin. Lowering my gaze from where they could too easily gawk at his lips, I took a hold of his attempted knot. Undoing it, I felt Mason's chest beneath my hands vibrate.
"Please, go ahead."
A grin tugged at my lips as I laid the loose tie flat against his chest. For a second, his heartbeat thudded against my fingers. Again aware of how close we were â of the warmth coming from his chest and the smell of his cologne turning my head light â I wanted to step back and tell him to just forget about the tie. Instead, I crossed one half over the other, trying to keep my hands steady and my gaze downwards.
"Who taught you how to do a tie?" Mason asked, his voice soft.
My mind drew a blank. Pausing with the fabric mid-air, I frowned. "I don't know, really. Just always known how, I guess." I risked a glance up and immediately felt my pulse soar as I met Mason's eyes. "Anyone ever taught you?"
"My dad tried." He chuckled again. "I used to have to wear one for school, but he always did it for me, honestly."
"Clearly," I teased.
Mason's chest heaved in a sigh, and a moment later his exhale tickled my hands. Kyle's screeching laugh echoed from the kitchen, but neither Mason's nor my head turned to look. I bit down on my lip, focused on evening out the narrow and wide ends as I tightened the knot in place.
"Better," I said quietly with a nod.
Satisfied with the near-perfect Windsor knot staring back at me, I reached behind Mason's neck to turn his collar back down. Goosebumps spread down my arm from where my thumb brushed against his neck. The heat of his skin didn't surprise me: his cheeks were just as red as mine must have been at that point.
"Thanks, Beck."
Nodding, I lifted my gaze from the tie back to his eyes. Clear yet unreadable, they stared back down at me without hesitation. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to clear it, forcing a strangely strangled sound from my chest. As I tried to hold back an embarrassed chuckle, I realised my hands still rested around Mason's neck. I slipped my left one off and attempted to hide it behind my back, but I couldn't bring myself to completely remove my touch. Instead, I ran my right hand down his front, next to his tie. This time, I felt his chest hitch.
"Uh, how's your wrist?" he mumbled, his chest vibrating again.
I flinched as, distracted by rubbing his tie between my fingers, Mason's hand gently took hold of my left forearm. A spark of adrenalin rushed through my body as he lifted my arm, his eyes shifting to take in my cast.
"It's okay." I wanted to pull it back and hide it away â the one thing off about my look â but Mason kept examining it. "Looks bad, right?"
Instantly, Mason frowned. "No, not at all." He lowered it back down to my side, his hand still holding my arm. "You can hardly see it, I swear."
If my stomach was warm before his comment, it felt on fire now. I opened my mouth, about to tell him how much his comment meant, but before I could get any words out, a cry sounded from the next room.
"Mason! Jesus, hurry up!"
In a hurry, I dropped my hand from Mason's chest and stepped back, shame extinguishing the warmth in my belly. But it was clearly a second too late: I turned my head to see Kyle already stood in the archway, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face.
"I'm here," Mason stuttered. Too embarrassed to look at him, I kept staring at Kyle, praying he wouldn't make a comment.
"I can see that." Crossing his arms, he flicked his head towards the kitchen. "You might not know, but Beck's not the only one here."
Rolling my eyes, I decided to escape the conversation and moved towards Kyle. "Whatever."
"Yeah, hard to not hear all the noise you guys are making down here," Mason's voice followed behind me.
I didn't hear Kyle's response, because cheers echoed around the room at Mason's arrival. Natalie sat with Jess, Abby's girlfriend, on one couch, while Abby, Fran and Guilio huddled around a plate of snacks on the kitchen island.
"Finally!" Abby's voice stood out among the others. "Now we can open some champagne."
Glancing over my shoulder, I threw Mason a look. "You actually have some tonight?"
He drew next to me and bumped my shoulder. "Abby brought." He grinned. "But there's still wine in the fridge if you want."
Heart pounding, I couldn't reply before Jess and Natalie were in front of us, arms open for hugs. For all the fuss Natalie seemed to have given to her dress, she sure looked a dream. A long-sleeved white dress made her dark skin glow, and the slit up the leg made me envious of how long it made them look. Jess, on the other hand, wore a simple black dress; a stark contrast to the bright red one Abs wore.
After I'd greeted the new faces, thrown out compliments and accepted the ones for me, I fell into a seat at the island. It didn't take long for Abby to pop the cork on a bottle, and then for Kyle to pop another one. Fran handed around glasses before sneaking into the seat next to me. Everyone settled around the island, glasses untouched in our hands. Silence fell around us as we turned to look expectantly at Mason.
"Why are you all staring at me?" he laughed after a pause.
"You're the host." Abby shrugged. "Give us a toast, come on."
Mason shook his head, but his objections were drowned out by encouragement from our teammates. Eventually, he lifted his glass as we quietened down again.
"Here's to a good point against Spurs," he started, eyes looking around the island. "And to charity, I guess?" I smiled as his eyes met mine. My stomach clenched as his grin broadened. "And to having a great night, yeah?"
"Cheers!" Abby cried, clinking her glass against Mason's. "And thanks for having us, Mase!"
Bubbles ticked my throat as I sipped on my drink. The previous night was a rarity, but two nights of drinking in a row during the season wasn't something I'd ever done before. Though the reluctance I'd had with Mase last night didn't appear tonight as I lifted my glass to my lips once more.
Conversations sprouted up around the island. Fran and Natalie looked at something on Fran's phone while Abby and Jess listened to Guilio as he spoke. Kyle's voice sounded from where he and Mason stood on my left. I tried to focus on Guilio's story, too, but half of my attention remained behind me. But in a second, all of it flew across the counter to Fran.
"Hey, Mitch, what's Liv doing tonight?"
My eyes widened at her bluntness. I didn't want to look at Mason, too worried I'd somehow give something away. But I couldn't help turning to the side, where a shell-shocked Mase just blinked at Fran.
"Uh." He lifted a hand to scratch his forehead and looked down. My heart sped up as his eyebrows lowered. "Uh, I don't know."
Silence hung around us as Mason took a long sip of his champagne. My cheeks felt on fire and my stomach tightened with compassion as I saw the discomfort on Mason's face. For half a second, he flicked his eyes over to me. Then, clearing his throat, he faced Fran again.
"I broke up with her, Fran."
Again, my heart leapt at his words. Taking in the faces of the group, I saw the same reaction I'd had last night passing over their faces. As understanding dawned across them, sets of eyes skimmed from Mason to me. Unable to take the stares anymore, I studied my hands that gripped onto my champagne glass. My thumb nail was already chipped at the top.
"Oh," Fran mumbled after too long a pause. "Um, okay."
"I'm sorry, Mase," came the soft voice of Natalie. Kyle scoffed, but tried to cover it up with a cough.
"It's okay, Nat," Mason chuckled awkwardly.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, wishing someone would say something to break the strain in the room. Thankfully, Abby took the reins.
"Well, one less person to share the drinks with." A murmur of laughter spread through the group.
"Mase, can I put some music on?" Natalie asked.
"Oh, I heard such a good song yesterday," Fran added.
A few seconds later music blasted from the speakers in the ceiling, unravelling the tension straight away. Well, at least in the others, it seemed. My body was still stiff as I finally looked up from the table, only to find myself staring straight at Mason. He shot me a small grin, which might have undid the knot in my shoulders had Kyle not nudged him in the side and whispered something to him. The pair took off towards the lounge, leaving me staring at the place where our conversation had played out last night.
Taking another swig, I tried to shift my thoughts away from all of that. If I let it play on my mind the rest of the evening, it would be a long, long night. Meeting the eyes of Abby, she raised her eyebrows and grinned wickedly at me.
"Liv!" she mouthed at me, her mouth hanging open afterwards.
When she winked, I just shook my head. Even if I could distract myself from what was possibly building between me and Mase, worry ate at my stomach as I realised that my teammates wouldn't make it easy for me.