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“I can handle awkward. I’m really good at impressing dads.” He grinned. “And I don’t mind driving. Just tell me what to wear and when to pick you up.” He was saying all the right things, and something in his smile told me he knew it. “There’s a chance I’ll be slightly hung over, though.”
“Oh, right. That makes two of us.” Owen and Sarah’s bachelor and bachelorette parties were Saturday night. While I initially wasn’t included in Sarah’s plans, considering I wasn’t in her bridal party, she insisted that I join them for a girls’ night in. She hired a boudoir photographer to come to the house and photograph everyone in their lingerie, and she mentioned something about a tarot card reader, too.
As for Mason and the guys, they were going into the city for dinner and drinks. He said he was looking forward to it, having not had a night out like this in months. He promised Sarah he’d return Owen in one piece—joking that it wasn’t in his new job description.
As I pulled out some booklets for him to cut and staple, I couldn’t help but notice how distracted Mason seemed as I gave him instructions. His eyes were fixated on something behind me on my desk. I followed his line of sight past the stack of unfiled papers to the little painted acorn Finley had given me, sitting atop a stack of post-its.
“Still with me?” I asked him.
He cleared his throat, leaning forward in his chair. “I think I might have worked out why Finley got so emotional about the donuts.”
“Why?”
“She’s observant, you know—and I think there’s some part of her that senses what’s happening between me and you. Or she’s at least hopeful. She wants to feel closer to you, and I think that little gesture was her way of… trying to win you over.”
“Win me over? But she already has,” I said with a chuckle. “I love that kid so much.”
Mason’s eyes shot back up to my face, and I felt a twinge of self-awareness, recognizing the weight of the words I’d just said. It wasn’t the first time I expressed love for my students, even individually as I just had. I loved all of them.
But Finley—well, Finley was special.
The affection I felt toward her was different, and Mason knew it, too. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took the packets out of my hands and reached for a pair of scissors. With an almost imperceptible trembling in his voice, he said, “Okay, can you repeat those instructions for me, princess? I wasn’t listening the first time.”
.
chapter thirty-six
mason
Saturday night kicked off with an aggressive game of Rock, Paper, Scissors against two of Woodvale’s biggest assholes. “Fuck,” I muttered when Jake’s paper defeated the rocks Xander and I threw out. Angling my body toward Xander, I said a silent prayer, feeling Owen watching us over my shoulder. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”
I chose scissors. Xander picked rock.
And I could’ve punched the smirk right off his face when he said, “Ha, you were the one who suggested that game. How unlucky.”
Owen stepped between us, dangling his keys in front of my face. “Sorry, cuz. It had to be one of you.”
“At least you get to drive the Volvo,” Jake said, pulling a little black baggie from his coat pocket. I reluctantly yanked the keys from Owen’s hand, sighing as I watched my eldest cousin pull a gummy shaped like an orange slice from the little bag. He held it toward Owen. “Here. Take this, little brother.”
Owen spent all of two seconds observing the edible in Jake’s hand before tossing it into his mouth without question. “How many milligrams was that?” I asked, turning to Jake with wide eyes.
“Hmm, can’t remember,” Jake said, exchanging a grin with Xander.
“Don’t worry,” Owen said, turning to me as he swallowed. “I never feel a thing after taking these.”
“Better take another one then, for good measure,” Xander suggested. Jake agreed, pulling another orange slice gummy from the bag. Owen hesitated this time, searching for something in Jake’s eyes—how much did he trust his brother? “If not now, then when?” Jake asked, and all I could think about were those D.A.R.E. videos I was forced to watch back in elementary school about scenarios just like this.
But Owen didn’t remember them, apparently. I’d always thought of him as one of the smartest people I knew, so I watched in astonishment as he downed the second edible without really knowing what he was getting himself into. It wasn’t exactly the brightest move. “Just don’t let me do or say anything stupid tonight,” he said.
“That wasn’t in my job description.”
Owen just laughed.
**
First on our agenda for the night was dinner at a steakhouse in the heart of downtown Indianapolis. It took well over an hour to get there, thanks to traffic on 465, and it felt like it took just as long to find parking. I’d circled the block three times before giving up and settling on a nearby parking garage.
“You good, buddy?” Xander asked, squeezing Owen’s shoulder as we walked into the restaurant. The car ride up had been pretty uneventful, besides Jake’s backseat driving and Xander reading aloud the results from his Google Maps search for strip clubs around the city. Owen was quiet for the second half of the ride. Maybe too quiet.
