“Jokes, Connor. Jokes.”
Connor just grunted, again. He then took an enormous bite of his food, as if staking a claim at it, and then wiped his hands.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Don’t leave without me.”
He was completely serious. But I couldn’t lie, I was kind of happy to have a moment free from Connor—or, perhaps better said, I was happy to have a moment alone with Mason. Maybe this was dangerous and stupid, but I was starting to feel…something.I didn’t want to say attraction because I didn’t know that my body could handle it or that my mind could handle it.
It wasn’t like I expected myself to remain in a self-imposed convent from now until death, but intimacy and trust were obviously things that came very slowly. Mason had an advantage compared to most in that not only did he already know what had happened, he was fighting back against my assailants, but that still didn’t automatically make him anything more than slightly elevated in my eyes. It was completely unfair to him, but I had to know that if it ever got to the point of physical contact, he would treat me like he cared for me and not like something to abuse for his own gain.
“He’s always on edge like that,” Mason said before taking a bite of his burger.
“You know that he and I were once very close, right?” I said. “I know how he can be.”
“But even more than before. I think we all know things are drawing to a head with the Bandits. We got some friends in town who are going to help. But I’m sure the Bandits have noticed.”
Do I want to know?
“In any case, you got a lot of guts coming here. That’s impressive.”
Again, Mason didn’t say those words with emotion. It wasn’t like he was making some sort of heartfelt observation when he said it. But I could sense admiration, and it made me appreciate him more.
“I just wanted food.”
“There’s food in a lot of places at a lot less noticeable and well-known than Southwest Dine,” he said. “A lot of people in your spot would just never come back out and integrate themselves into modern life. So props to you.”
How could a man sound so plain and stoic in his words, and yet stir such emotion in me? The disparity between how we probably felt…
Well, who was I to assume? Maybe Mason really was nervous talking to me and he just did a great job hiding it. Maybe he even felt the same way I was starting to.
Boy, wouldn’t that be something? All these years later…maybe it had something to do with how it felt like we were both broken people. I could definitely sense something in Mason, always had. But now, I, too, had that darkness within me.
I guessed time would tell. It would have to because Connor returned.
“Checked my phone while we were in there; we shouldn’t be out like this,” Connor said. “Brock said he and Lane agreed. We all need to move together in groups of three or more.”
“You tell him what the fuck just happened here?” Mason said, a hint of anger flaring in his voice.
“No, but it doesn’t matter. Would only prove his point.”
Mason nodded. He reached into his wallet, paused, and looked at me.
“You pay for your food already?”
“Yeah, online with a card.”
He grimaced, threw two twenties on the table, and then threw a twenty to me as he stood up.
“I—”
“Don’t argue with a biker,” he said. “If you feel bad about it, buy me coffee sometime.”
Damnit, why did this man have to sound so casual about what sounded an awful lot like a date invitation? I would have to get him to show emotion. That would be my goal with him now—to get Mason Jett to actually show something besides complete stoicism or unbridled anger.
“I don’t feel bad; I feel grateful, thank you. And I would like to buy—”
“Let’s go, Connor.”
Whether because he was saving face in front of Connor or for something else, it seemed like this wasn’t the time. But it sure seemed like a door had been opened that I had never considered before.
