He looked toward the trees, then back at me, clearly confused.
“My place. It’s almost lunch,” I said casually, like my pulse hadn’t picked up for absolutely no reason.
He hesitated. For half a second, I thought he might bolt, or insist I drive him to Nico and Tony’s house.
Then he nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Something warm loosened in my chest. Inside the cabin, Mason paused just past the threshold, gaze sweeping the space with open curiosity.
My place wasn’t fancy, but it was small, clean, and functional. Watching Mason take it in made something strange and pleased settle under my ribs.
I headed straight for the fridge and pulled it open, and snorted. Of course. Mom had been here. The shelves were stocked like she was preparing for a mild apocalypse.
“You look relieved,” Mason said behind me.
I grabbed the soup ingredients and shut the fridge with my hip. “My mom’s been sneaking groceries in again,” I told him.
That earned me a real smile. It hit me square in the chest.
“You’re complaining about that?” he asked.
“Not today,” I admitted.
He hovered near the counter a second, then cleared his throat. “Need help?”
I glanced at him. My wolf perked up like it had just been handed a new favorite toy. Not good, I thought to myself.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing my tone back to normal. “Why not.”
What followed felt disarmingly easy. Mason moved around my kitchen like he’d always belonged there, cautious at first, then gradually more sure as I handed him tasks.
He chopped and stirred, and passed me things before I even asked. We didn’t bump into each other once.
“You cook a lot?” he asked at one point.
“I’m a passable cook,” I said. “My mom made sure my brothers and I know how to whip up a decent meal.”
His quiet laugh warmed the room more than the stove. By the time the soup was simmering and the sandwiches were stacked, the tight, shaken edge I’d seen on him earlier had eased.
We sat across from each other at my small table. For a few minutes, the only sounds were spoons and quiet breathing. Then I leaned back slightly, studying him.
“You look better compared to earlier,” I told him.
Mason paused mid-bite. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” I said simply. “You seemed out of it earlier.”
For a second, something shuttered behind his eyes. Then it was gone.
“I’m okay,” he said.
Not the whole truth, but good enough. He set his sandwich down and met my gaze, something uncertain flickering there.
“Thanks,” he added quietly. “For lunch.”
My chest did that weird tight thing again.
“Anytime,” I said.
