Standing at the gate to Mason's house, I waited for the usual bout of nerves to slap me in the face. Instead, nothing but an intense eagerness to run up his front steps appeared in my stomach. I thought back to Sunday, to the discomfort that had stiffened my body after the gala as I wondered what lay inside his house. And then I remembered the night before that, after my trip to the hospital, and the confliction that had torn me up as I stood in front of his door.
Who knew so much could change in a few days?
I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and practically skipped up Mason's stairs. Something about sneaking into his house this late felt criminal, and maybe that added to the thrill of the whole situation. And the situation was thrilling: the rush of adrenalin and speed of my pulse told me as much. By the time I reached the top step, my legs practically shook.
Light poured out onto the bricks in front of me as Mason opened his front door. Looking up, my stomach did a flip as I met his eyes, already scrunched up in a grin. Straightening my posture, I mirrored his expression.
"Evening, Rebecca," he said. He stepped backwards and held the door open for me. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Mm, what a coincidence."
I walked past him into the house. When I turned around, he'd already shut the door and was motioning towards the kitchen. His eyes fell to my bag and he let out a chuckle.
"Is that an overnight bag?" he asked. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I made my way to where he'd indicated. "That's presumptuous of you."
A smile broke out onto my face despite my efforts to stop it. Mason reached the island and leant against it, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. I dropped my bag pointedly and raised an eyebrow.
"I thought this was a booty call?" I asked. Mase bit down on his lip. "Isn't that the whole point?"
"Guess you got me there."
I nodded and breathed out a giggle. Now that I was here, facing Mason, standing a few steps away from him, the butterflies I'd expected entered my stomach. Not the familiar I-don't-know-where-we-stand butterflies, or the is-this-ever-going-to-happen butterflies. Rather, new butterflies that came with knowing the inevitability of the situation, and everything that that meant. I tried to ignore them.
"Plus, it's for your benefit as well," I said, taking a pace forward. Mason unfolded his arms and instead stuffed them in his sweatpants pockets. "I brought your hoodie back. And now I don't have to borrow another one tomorrow."
"How considerate of you," he teased. "So you're going to stop stealing my clothes now?"
I nodded and moved forward again, so that I was only half a stride out of Mason's reach. His brown eyes bore into mine and blood rushed to my cheeks.
"For now, yes."
"Yeah?" he murmured, raising his eyebrows. "So is my scarf also in that bag?"
"Scarf?" I asked with a playful frown. "I don't remember anything about a scarf."
Mason laughed and, in a swift effort, took hold of my waist and tugged my body against his. My head spun; my hands habitually found their way to his shoulders. Breathless, I couldn't help myself; my gaze drifted down to his lips, which curled up into a grin the second I did. Lifting my eyes self-consciously, I studied the rest of his face: the barely damp hair, no longer perfectly styled up, the slight scar on his forehead from Savic's head, the warmth in his eyes.
Mason's grin stretched. I rose onto my toes, feeling my blush spread down my neck. His fingers dug into my lower back. Shivers whizzed down my spine and to my feet. I eyed his hair, tempted to brush my fingers through it in the same way I had the other morning. Before I could, though, the touch of one of his hands vanished.
It reappeared on my cheek a moment later. His thumb traced my cheekbone, and then brushed along my jaw. Fingers cupped the back of my neck, raising the hairs along my arms. Air caught in my throat as he they entwined with the hair at the base of my head. Unknowingly, I'd leaned forward into him, and now I was close enough to feel his breath on my chin.
My lips were stiff with a smile when he pressed his against mine. Just like the first time we'd kissed on Sunday, my head whirled with bliss and my chest opened up with affection. Unlike Sunday, Mason took no time to react. His mouth moved confidently with mine; his hand at the back of my neck drew me closer and closer until every part of me seemed to be touching him.
I ran my uninjured hand down his arm, feeling his muscles move as his spread out across my bum. Stubble prickled my upper lip, teeth nipped at my bottom lip. Releasing his arm, I ran it down his front, feeling his chest heave and his torso tense as I lowered my hand. Heat radiated off his skin as I lifted his t-shirt and snaked my hand around his side.
Dazed, gasping, overwhelmed with adoration, I pulled away. We stood in silence for a moment, each breathing the other in as we caught our breath. Mason nuzzled his face against mine, forcing me to smile as I'm sure he was, too. He untangled his fingers from my hair and took to tracing lines up and down my spine.
"I'm really glad I called you," I mumbled into him.
"So you admit you were the one who initiated the booty call?" he replied, his voice temptingly husky.
"I admit to nothing."
The huff of his laugh tickled my lip. It felt impossible to imagine the insecurity I'd felt not even an hour before now. How had part of me thought this would end up in anything other than success? The energy I'd wasted stressing about this seemed as futile as anything.
"Should we go upstairs?"
I opened my eyes and caught sight of Mason's flushed cheeks and glazed eyes.
"Hey, don't forget I was promised a brownie," I replied.
"Oh, yes!" Mason cried, widened his eyes. "You're in for a treat, trust me."
I lowered myself down from Mason and removed my hand from under his shirt. His hands slipped off me too, and the second they disappeared I craved his touch again. Mason manoeuvred around the island and when he spun around to face me again, he presented a plate with a lone brownie. My heart swelled with affection as he walked back, a proud smile on his face as if he were the one who baked the treat and not Callum's girlfriend.
"Is now a bad time to tell you that I'm more of a cake person?"
"Terrible." Mase placed the plate down in front of me. "But I'm willing to bet this will change your mind."
"You're really building up these expectations." I broke the brownie into two pieces and lifted one to my mouth. "What if I hate it?"
"Then I'll just have to tell Lauren to bake you a cake next time."
I met Mason's eyes and smiled. He watched as I took a bite and munched on it thoughtfully. For all the hype he had built about it even I had to admit the brownie was good: crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, not overly sweet. Mason raised his eyebrows in suspense.
"Well?"
"Not bad."
"Not bad?" he repeated. He came to stand in front of me this time, his eyebrows still high over his eyes. "That's it?"
I grinned cheekily. "I told you: I just prefer cake."
"And here I tried so hard to keep you one."
Mason took hold of my right wrist and raised it up to his face. The half-eaten piece of brownie remained in my fingers, but Mason kept his eyes trained on mine. My heart jumped as he took the piece from my hands, lips grazing my fingers as he did. Mouth half full, he tried to grin.
"You know I wasn't really bothered about the brownie, right?" I murmured. He released my wrist to slip his fingers through mine. "I was just trying to get you to invite me over."
My confession hung in the air as Mason finished his bite. Heart racing, I waited for some kind of reaction to flash in his eyes, but they remained calm and steady. He took his time chewing and, by the time he swallowed, I had to wonder if he felt the balminess of my palm in his.
"Yeah, I know."
I opened my mouth to reply, trying to decide if the feeling in my stomach was one of embarrassment or hurt. He'd known? And still said nothing at the stadium? My thoughts must have shown on my face, because Mason squeezed my hand.
"I mean, I had a feeling," he added quickly. "And I wanted to, trust me, but..." He shrugged as relief flooded my chest. "I don't know, I was scared I had it wrong." A momentary grin fluttered over his lips, but insecurity clutched at his face. "And I didn't want to freak you out or anything after yesterday."
Recalling my temptation from moments ago, I brushed through his hair with my injured hand. His eyes softened.
"Makes sense," I mumbled. "I've been pretty easy to freak out lately."
"You have." Mason exhaled a laugh. His free hand wrapped around my lower back again. "But you have the subtlety of a blow horn, so I guess I should have just gone for it."
"At least one of us knows how to make a move."
I laughed and leaned my head against his shoulder. They shook with his chuckle. My eyes fluttered shut as I inhaled the faint smell of body wash and shampoo drifting off him. With a deep breath in, I rotated my head and pressed my lips against his neck. His pulse hammered under them as I inched upwards, making my way to the corner of his jaw. The arm around me stiffened and the hand in mine tightened.
"Ready to go upstairs yet?" he breathed out. I hovered my lips just in front of his ear.
"And you called me unsubtle," I whispered.
I retracted and leant back against the counter to meet Mason's eyes. They looked down at me, that heart-stopping expression back in them. A burst of energy sparked through me as he lifted his mouth in a half-grin.
"Just got to prove that I can make a move, too."
We remained for a moment longer before silently untangling from each other. Mason grabbed my bag and threw the strap over his shoulder before I had a chance to pick it up. But he pulled up to my side again and took hold of my hand once more, sending another dizzying rush through my body.
It was nothing compared to the jolt of shock that forced me to a standstill as we rounded the wall and reached the bottom of the stairs, though. Pippa stood at the top, staring down at us with eyes almost as wide as her mouth. Blood heated my cheeks as I practically threw Mason's hand out of mine. He'd stopped beside me, too, and now cleared his throat.
"Uh, hi, Pip."
His sister, clearly over her shock, bit down on her lip to supress a smile. "Hello, Mason. Didn't know you can company."
Just run, I thought. Just get out of here and you won't have to face how embarrassing this is.
"Hey, Pip," I said, attempting to sound upbeat. I couldn't even glance at Mason at my side as he giggled quietly. "Long time no see."
Now, Pippa released snort of laughter.
"I thought you went to bed?" Mason asked, voice almost cracking with hilarity. Glad they're enjoying this.
"I was going downstairs to get some tea, but this is enough for one night, I think," Pippa replied.
"Oh, my God," I said under my breath. Mason broke out into a laugh, too. Was I the only one feeling the awkwardness of this situation?
"Go to sleep, Pippa," he said through chuckles. "It's past your bedtime."
"Mm hm," she just replied. Hands on her hip, she composed herself for a second to beam at us. "Could say the same for you."
I covered my face with a hand, hot skin burning my palms. Mason's hand came down on my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to shrug it off out of mortification.
"Sleep well, you two!" Pippa called down.
I uncovered my face just in time to see her throw a wave over her shoulder before she disappeared into her room. Mason laughed again as I turned to face him.
"That was so embarrassing!" This only made him laugh harder, so I poked him playfully in the belly. Despite the humiliation still thick in my chest, I spluttered out a laugh, too. "Stop laughing."
"It's just Pippa," Mason insisted, adding his other hand to my shoulders and squeezing them both. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Agree to disagree," I muttered.
Mason's smiling eyes lessened some of my shame, though, and I felt the blush ebb out of my cheeks. With a final chuckle, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. We started up the stairs together.
"She would have seen you in the morning anyway," he pointed out. "So I don't know why you're so upset."
"Who said I was sleeping over?" I snaked an arm around Mason and grinned up at him as he shook his head.
"Your overnight bag, remember?"
I grinned at the floor and allowed Mason to lead me into his room. My heart raced as I looked around it again, still in awe that I found myself here once more. The frames above his bed caught my attention again, but the thump of my bag hitting the ground tore it away. Behind me, Mason shut the door and studied me with an unreadable expression.
Every ounce of anxiety and excitement and embarrassment and regret and disappointment I'd felt that night vanished when his hands reached for my body and his lips found mine again.