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“Where are you going?” he asked, following me.
“Home . . . alone.” I glowered.
“I need a ride.” He stood, his raised hands palms up.
“There’s a cab,” I said and pointed to the parked cab.
He scoffed, “Really, Lauren.”
“Really, Mason.” I crossed my arms.
“Lauren—” Just then my cell phone rang, giving me a bit of a fright. I searched through my purse and answered it.
“Hey, Cassie.” I turned and got in the car.
Cassie invited me to her late-night party, which I tried to decline, but she insisted I show up. With a grumble I agreed and drove home to change into something more comfortable before making my way over. I left my mother a note for the morning in case I didn’t make it home that night.
When I pulled up to Cassie’s parents’ place, I was surprised to see so many cars in the driveway. I pulled in behind the other and the engine silenced with a turn of the key. I sat in the car, debating on leaving before anyone saw my car. Then a knock on my passenger side window startled me. I tilted my head to see out the windshield. Nick waved at me. I cursed.
“Hey , you,” he said, stopping. “Are you coming?” he asked, waiting. I chewed the inside of my cheek, and shut my eyes, hoping he would disappear. No such luck. I got out and joined him.
“Are you just getting here?” I asked.
“Yes, Cassie just called,” he replied.
I tried to hide my displeasure as I nodded. Cassie invited us
both on purpose. Cassie actually preferred Nick’s company over Mason’s that much I knew. She had made that clear once or twice, also mentioning Nick was the better choice of the two. What she did not know was what happened between Mason and me tonight.
“ I wish I had the chance to speak to you earlier. You kept pretty busy.” We walked towards the side of the house. The patio lights shone brightly from the backyard.
“ Yeah
, Thursday nights can be busy,” I replied with a shrug. “You work all week?” He gave me a side glance.
“Yep,” I said, biting down on the inside of my lips. The way he
looked at me made me so uncomfortable.
“Sorry about the other night,” he said, touching my arm,
bringing me to a stop. “I was a little tipsy. Normally, I don’t let
my emotions get the best of me.” He smiled and blushed. Averting my eyes, I replied, “Forgotten.” But he chuckled and
then shook his head. “What?” I asked.
“Was it that bad?” He sucked a breath in, wincing.
“Huh?”
“You said forgotten. I’m guessing that I’m a lousy kisser if you
are able to forget about it that easily,” he said.
Now I was uncomfortable again. “You apologized. What did
you want me to say?” I asked, looking away.
