Maybe not ever.
And I understood that. Understood the need to keep some pain locked away where it couldn’t touch you in vulnerable moments.
Still, I wanted him to know the door was open. That he didn’t have to carry everything alone, didn’t have to maintain that careful façade of strength and control every second. That if he ever wanted to talk about it, the good memories, the bad ones, and the ugly aftermath no one ever prepared you for, I would listen.
My thumb stroked once across his forearm before I pulled my hand back, giving him space.
Mr. Gifford clapped his hands at the front of the room loud enough to make several people jump. “All right, settle down. Let’s talk about your project proposals. I want to see real thought put into these, not something you threw together last night.”
Several guilty looks were exchanged around the room, along with a chorus of groans.
Maddox leaned back slightly beside me, his leg pressing against mine under the desk, and lifted his brow at me. At the rate we were going in this class, neither one of us was going to pull an A.
The final bell rang,releasing the school into its usual chaos of slamming lockers and rushing bodies. I lingered at mine, turning the dial slowly, right past my number once, then back, the mechanism clicking beneath my fingers. The locker door creaked open, and I grabbed my books, shoving them into my bag. As I turned to meet Atlas and Paisley in the parking lot, a hand clamped around my elbow, hijacking me.
“Hey—what the—” I protested but to no avail.
Mason Corvo hauled me down the hallway. “We need to talk, Freckles,” he murmured near my ear, making it clear this wasn’t a request.
My feet scrambled to keep up, sneakers squeaking against polished linoleum as he pulled me along. My bag slid down my shoulder, the strap catching in the crook of my elbow. “Where the hell are we going?”
“Somewhere we won’t be disturbed.” He yanked open a door with his free hand and dragged me inside, the momentum carrying us into the boys’ locker room.
Oh. God.
It wasn’t empty. At least four football players were in the room, including a very naked Levi. They were all in various degrees of undress, shirtless torsos on display, muscles flexing as they pulled on shoulder pads, strapped protective gear into place, and tugged jerseys over their heads.
So much for privacy.
Several heads turned toward us. A whistle went up from near the showers.
Heat flooded my face, burning from my chest up my neck and across my cheeks. I tried to pull my arm from Mason’s grip, but he held firm.
“Mas, you brought us a treat?” This was accompanied by a grin that suggested the opposite. “God knows I could use something sweet,” Torin said, leaning a hand against the lockers.
“Unless your last name is Corvo, don’t touch her. Now, everyone get the fuck out!” Mason barked.
Grumbling followed, lockers slammed shut, and legs hopped into football leggings halfway on, but they shuffled out, one by one. A few lingering looks were thrown my way, and I hated the implication that there was anything between Mason and me. I was sure tomorrow rumors would be swirling about us alone inthe locker room, none of them fucking true, and it burned my blood.
“And make sure no one comes in,” he snapped behind them.
Silence settled over the room with just the sound of the distant dripping shower as I waited for Mason to tell me what the hell this was about. He turned to face me fully, finally releasing my elbow. I rubbed at the skin throbbing faintly where his fingers had been.
He leaned back against a locker casually, dimples threatening to appear at the corners of his mouth. “It’s time we had a little catch-up, Freckles.”
I didn’t like the look in his eyes.
Not one bit.
“My brother didn’t come home last night,” he said, and his tone made my stomach clench.
“Okay, how is that my problem?”
“Did you have sex with him?” he asked bluntly, getting straight to the question, which I appreciated, but that was all I appreciated about Mason.
“Why is that any of your business?” I shot back, my anger flaring. If I didn’t leave here, I’d be walking home. Paisley wouldn’t wait forever, and I probably had more than a few missed texts from her.
“He hooks up, but he never stays the night.” Mason backed me against the lockers. “It’s one of our rules. We fuck girls; we don’t sleep with them.”
