“Posters. Yes. I had posters.” Riley flushes. “And I have a boyfriend, whom I am going to call. Right now.”
Without another word, she nods to Mason, then me, and hurries into the hall, letting the heavy door slowly swing shut behind her.
Mason doesn’t say a word until the automatic lock clicks in place, but when he turns to me, he wears a rotten grin. “She’s the reason you don’t want to like me.”
I shake my head, trying and failing to hide a smile. “I like you.”
His lips twitch, and he takes a purposeful step closer. “Do you now?”
Holding out my hand, I stop his advance. “Not that much.”
“Because of Brandon?”
Just the words make me feel ill.
Mason nods, looking resigned. “Because of Brandon.”
This time, it’s not a question.
“He’s not dating Sadie,” I blurt out.
Making himself at home, Mason sits on the edge of the bed. “They broke up?”
I shake my head. “Apparently they weren’t ever dating. He brought her to Thanksgiving because he said he couldn’t face me anymore. And they’re friends, so she came to spend time with him.”
“Face you?” Mason scowls.
“He thought I didn’t like him, but I never admitted how I felt because I didn’t know howhefelt. And now we can’t be together because Sadie cares for him. And she still doesn’t know thatIknow that they were never together.”
“I feel like we’ve just gone back to middle school.” Mason grins to soften the words.
I toss my hands in the air, frustrated. “Believe me, I know.”
He frowns, probably trying to wrap his head around all that. “Are you secretly together now?”
“I won’t do that to Sadie—not behind her back like that.”
“So, you’renottogether.” He slowly stands.
“Well…no, but…” I’m not sure how I planned to finish that sentence.
Smiling, he stalks toward me. “That’s all you had to say.”
I eye him nervously, not entirely sure I like his predatory smirk. I stop him from getting any closer by placing a hand on his arm. “Mason…”
“It’s okay.” He stays put, doesn’t even attempt to move in. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“You do?” Skeptical, I raise an eyebrow.
“You’re going to tell me that your life is complicated right now—that you don’t want to muddy it up more than it already is. You like me a lot, and because you value our growing friendship, you don’t want to do anything to put it in jeopardy.”
I press my lips together, trying not to smile. “And how would you respond?”
His hand drifts to a strand of hair by my face, and he gently runs his fingers down it. The gentle tug sends shivers up my back. “I’d say that you’re easy to talk to. That I like it when you accidentally drop the controlled mask you wear and reveal the bright, beautiful, free girl underneath.”
Somehow, he’s closer, and I’m not sure when that happened.
“I’d tell you that seeing you makes me wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been discovered at fourteen—if I had stayed in Montana, met you at a football game, kissed you for the first time in front of a bonfire. Maybe I would have taken you to prom, posed with you as your parents took our pictures at your graduation, gone away to college with you.”
