“Because they already think we are madly in love?”
He kicked the stand down, his body unshakable as I swung off the bike. I pulled off the helmet at the same time as Mason.
“Because they know you would run screaming from me if we even gave it a shot.”
Mason climbed off the bike and stretched, his shirt riding up enough to show the ink along his hip. A couple of girls walking past definitely noticed, one biting her lip before throwing him a coy smile. He winked at her, and I scoffed.
“Unbelievable.”
“What?” He grinned. “Jealous?”
I smacked his arm, readjusting my clothes. “Not even close. But I can’t believe they would be so blatant about it when I’m standing right here.”
Mason laughed, tossing an arm around my shoulders as we headed toward the crowd. He pulled me in closer with another rumble of laughter. He always smelled like motor oil and deep musk, something rough around the edges but familiar. Comfortable.
Maybe comfortable love would be better for me.
“You should be.” He grinned. “I’m a catch.”
“You know, for tonight only, I’m going to give you this one and say yes, you definitely are.”
“Aww.” His smile grew, and he reached for my hand, slipping it into his. “I have the sweet Evie here with me tonight.”
“The sweet Evie?”
“The one who doesn’t want to claw eyes out and set the place on fire. I like her.”
“You’re making it sound like Psycho Evie’s a problem? That it’s possible you don’t like that Evie?”
He gave a lethal smile. “I would never be so stupid to provoke that Evie. That feral little trash panda would jump up and clawmyeyes out before I could blink.”
The fire cast shadows across Mason’s smiling face, highlighting the sharp cut of his cheekbones, high and defined, like he was perfectly carved to be reckless and tempting.
He was all effortless arrogance, his bronze skin glowing under the flickering flames, the heat licking at the ink crawling up his forearms. The tattoos stretched with every flex of muscle, a patchwork of bold black ink and hidden meanings, some swirling around his knuckles, others vanishing beneath the hem of his fitted black T-shirt.
His thick, dark eyebrows framed eyes so black they almost swallowed the firelight, gleaming with amusement, mischief, and just enough danger to make people second-guess his intentions.
Zack stepped up next to us without a word, throwing a smile in my direction before tipping his beer back.
He was as good-looking as the rest of them, but in a different way. He still had a youthful look to him that made me think ofhim more as cute than hot. Like a little brother who I loved to tease and have fun with, but would never be able to think of in a romantic way—I didn’t think he shared those same feelings.
The music shifted, a song easy to dance to, and Zack noticed, pulling me into his arms for us to move to the beat.
“Good to dance?” he asked.
“With you, always.”
His smile grew and I knew it probably wasn’t the best thing to say. It’s not that I tried to encourage any crush I suspected he had, only that I was like this with all the guys.
“Careful, Evie. I might start expecting that treatment every time.”
“I don’t think you’d survive me giving you that treatment every time.”
His soft blue eyes glinted in the firelight, a harsh difference from Mason’s dark glare. An even bigger difference from Aiden’s stormy blue eyes.
“I can handle it,” he said, quieter now. “I know I could handle it.”
I laughed it off, never knowing what to say to not make it worse. Instead I let the music and Zack pull me out of my head until the wind brushed along my neck. The chill made me turn, the sudden panic of eyes on me again hitting me hard. My body froze, my eyes scanning the crowd, but like at the cafe, no one seemed to be paying me any attention.
