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“I wasn’t hiding,” I scoffed. “Some of us have to work for a living.”
“You think I don’t work?” he asked with a chuckle. My head titled slightly, and I rolled my eyes again. “I really hate this perception you have of me,” he said, placing his palm on the wall next to my head.
“Then change it,” I whispered, biting my lower lip.
“How?” His tongue darted out, moistening his lips.
I felt my eyes get heavier the longer he stared. With focused eyes, he slid his hand along my jaw into my hair. His face was so close that our noses almost touched and the warmth of his breath tickled my lips. As I closed my eyes, waiting to feel the touch of his lips against mine, someone called my name.
“Lauren.” The cook from earlier popped his head out. “Peterson is looking for you.”
I replied, “Thanks.” Mason’s eyes slowly left mine, landing on the cook, who immediately looked away. “I have to get back,” I told him and walked away swiftly, moving past everyone in the back area and straight to the office, where Mrs. Peterson grilled me on leaving my section unattended.
By ten my shift had finally ended. A quick glance across the restaurant filled me with relief; the Harpers’ table was empty. I hated how nervous he made me. Even as I thought of him earlier when he was about to kiss me, made my heart flutter. I knew that if we hadn’t been interrupted I would have let him. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. He was never polite, and even when he was being sweet, a hint of sarcasm followed. I shrugged it off and finished pushing the chairs in under the tables in my area. I made sure my tales and the carpets were clean.
Before I left for the night, Mrs. Peterson took me into her office and she spoke to me about earlier. I apologized for the second time, promising to never let it happen again. She gave me a thin smile and nodded.
“Have a good night, new girl,” the cook from earlier said as I walked past him.
“It’s Lauren,” I corrected.
“I know.” He smiled, then went back to what he was doing, putting a smile on my face for the first time that night. As I walked around the side of the building to where my car was parked, I stopped short. Mason was leaning on the trunk of my car. My eyes scanned the parking lot. No red Ferrari.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, still looking around, hoping to find his car.
“Wanted to finish what we started,” he said, smiling.
“Mason—”
“Shh.” His movements were swift, his palms cupping my cheeks. My lips parted, breath ragged as his thumb lightly dragged across my bottom lip. My eyes locked on his, and the need to kiss him grew stronger as the seconds passed. His hands slid into my hair as he inched closer. I felt his eager breath on my face, his eyes still on mine. Shivers ran up my spine; a tingle filled my belly as his hands ran across the back of my neck. It was then that he pressed his lips on mine. I leaned in to him, yielding to the soft strength of his kiss, letting out a gasp as our lips parted for a moment. My arms wrapped around his neck, feeling his passion in my body, heart and soul. His arms squeezed around my waist tightly. Then he lifted me onto the trunk of my car. “I—don’t— know—why I waited so long to do that,” he whispered, breathless.
“What does this mean?” I gasped our faces inches apart.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, his hands on the sides of my face, his thumbs brushing across my cheeks. “I—I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t understand it.” His lips hovered over mine. My eyes fluttered and all words escaped me. My eyes focused on his eyes, then lips and back to his eyes again. Cupping his face in my hands, I stared intently, trying to figure him out. I wanted to believe that everything he was saying was true.
“How do you do this to me?” I said my voice unsteady.
“What do I do?” he whispered with heavy lids, breath rapid and lips wanting more.
I replied, “Turn my world upside down.” I leaned close, slowly brushing my lips over his. His body tensed and he grabbed me tight in his embrace. His kiss was hard and rushed. It felt as if we had breathed our souls and all our passion into each other in that kiss.
A sob caught in my throat, and I knew instantly that I had fallen for him. Everything about him went against my morals and better judgement. He would hurt me—that was inevitable—but deep within me all I wanted was him.
“Where are you going from here?” he gasped, pulling away.
“I don’t know,” I said, breathy, kissing him again. “Let’s see where this takes us.”
“My place or yours,” he whispered, and I felt his smirk against my lips.
“That’s—not what I meant.” I shoved him back gently. “I meant where it takes us relationshipwise.”
“Relationship—whoa! I think we are rushing things.” He backed away, raising his hands.
“Seriously, Mason?” I gasped in disbelief.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t do relationships.”
“I don’t do one-night stands,” I said angrily, hopped off the trunk of my car and walked around to the driver’s side door.
