And all in front of Mason.
God, even thinking about it now makes my face flame. He couldn’t have been cooler about it. Even when confronted by Blake and Layla, his friends, he stuck up for me. I’m not sure I even deserved that, and yet he was there defending me.
I slip off my shoes and tuck my feet under me with a bag of greasy burgers and fries in my lap. We turn off a few main roads and into a newer part of town where all the strip malls and gas stations aren’t more than a few years old.
“This is where you live, huh?” I scoot forward to peer out the front window at the rows of two and three-story condos, each boasting their own private garage. “These are really nice.” They just don’t seem like him. I don’t know what I was expecting, but these places look uptown. I expected Mason to live somewhere with a big backyard, a garage full of tools, and a dog.
“Best the UFL has to offer.” He turns down one of the winding roads and hits a button on his visor. A garage opens and he pulls the truck in. “Home sweet home.”
I hook the straps of my shoes and grab my purse while Mason manages the food. He opens the door that leads to a staircase so narrow I wonder if he has to turn sideways to walk through it.
The top of the stairs opens to a sprawling living space, open kitchen and living room combo, and more stairs off to the side.
He drops a kiss on my head as he passes me. “Sit. I’ll grab some plates.”
I drop my shoes and purse by the stairs and sit on the large overstuffed couch. On the coffee table, there’s an elongated tray that’s covered in different-colored polished rocks. It’s like something I’d see at one of those fancy décor stores in the mall or some doctor’s office display that’s meant to calm. None of this seems at all like the Mason I know.
“It came with the place.” He watches me poke at the shiny stones. “I didn’t pick out any of this.” His hand motions to some framed art and a decorative mirror on the wall.
“How long have you lived here?” I call out to Mason, who’s busy pulling plates and napkins out of the cupboards.
“It’s been a year. I made enough from my last fight to get a place of my own, just haven’t had the time to look.” He’s unwrapping burgers, and my chest swells with warmth.
It’s such a simple gesture, plating up my food, but it communicates something so much more. He balances two plates in one hand and grabs my drink with the other.
“Need some help?”
“No, I got it.” He slides down beside me on the couch, and I relieve him of my chocolate shake so he can set down our food.
I eyeball the burgers, stuffed with lettuce and tomato and dripping special sauce. My mouth waters. “Mm, this looks really good. Thank you.”
“You gonna say grace for us, Miss Trixy?” He winks, and a playful grin pulls at his lips.
“I’d love to.” I reach over and grab his hand then bow my head and close my eyes. “Dear Father in heaven, thank you for tonight, for Mason, and for this bounty of food you’ve provided for us. I pray, God, that you’ll bless this food for our bodies. It’s in your name we pray. Amen.”
Mason squeezes my hand, and when I open my eyes, the look on his face would’ve knocked me off my feet if I’d been standing. It’s as if he’s seeing me for the first time or maybe seeing past this shell of a human body and into my soul. Like he’s reading my thoughts, my secrets, even my heart.
I blink and focus on the food, hoping to shake this sudden vulnerability. “Please, don’t look at me like that. Whatever it is that you think you see, it’s . . . don’t.”
“What do you think I see, Beatriks?” His voice is thick and heavy with an emotion I can’t name.
“You look at me like I’m bigger and more important than I am.”
“Who’s to say you’re not?”
“I’m not.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s my call to make, not yours.”
I peek up at him, and his lips are curved in a lazy smile. The moment has seemed to pass, and I relax and pop a few fries in my mouth, almost moaning at the greasy salty combo. In-N-Out fries might run a close second to lobster.
We eat and share childhood stories about Cowell Beach. I tell him about the time I was in high school and lost my bikini top while dipping under a wave. I had to sit out there in chest deep water until I got Lana’s attention. When she’d finally realized what had happened, she’d laughed so hard I thought she’d bust. She was always so serious; it was rare to see her completely overtaken with laughter. The day she laughed so hard she cried is one of my fondest memories of her.
He countered my topless beach story with a similar one where Drake was depantsed in front of a group of girls he was trying to impress. I guess it was cold that day, and needless to say, the guy didn’t impress them as he’d hoped.