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“If you pick up that pink shirt, so help me, Trina, I’m leaving. Never coming back.”
I smiled down at the salmon colored button-up shirt I’d been running my hands over as Mason huffed behind me. We’d hardly set foot in Banana Republic and already he was prowling back and forth like a circus lion stuck in a tiny cage. I skipped over the offensive shirt and instead went for a navy blue jacket with black buttons and paired it with a plain white tee underneath.
“Fine. No pink allowed.” Pinning the few outfits I’d picked out against his chest, I nodded toward the dressing rooms. “Try these on and then come model them for me. I’ll pick out the winners.”
His eyebrows arched and he shot me an amused expression. “Am I supposed to do a cat walk for you? Maybe strike a pose?”
“If you get the hankering,” I shot back, stifling a giggle. It was hard to imagine Mason Finnick breaking out of his comfort bubble long enough to strut down an imaginary catwalk like a super model. “Now go, before I add the pink shirt to your pile.”
That made him shuffle quickly over to the dressing rooms while I made myself at home in a brown leatherback chair. The mall was still pretty empty for ten o’clock in the morning. I could see a few families walking down the hall, outside the glass front of Banana Republic. Not many high school kids, yet. It was better that way. Less pressure for Mason. We could find him some clothes and pop out of here before anyone saw us.
“I. Hate. This.”
I turned my attention back to the entrance of the dressing room, where Mason stood with his shoulders tensed up nearly to his ears and a scowl on his face. He wore a pair of skinny fit denim jeans with a floral poplin shirt that he’d tried to tuck into the waist. It wasn’t horrible. It just wasn’t...him.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” I said, nodding my head thoughtfully.
As uncomfortable as he looked, I couldn’t help but admire the way the shirt hugged his biceps, emphasizing the muscular definition of his arms. Those were the kind of arms that could sweep a girl off her feet. Literally. And that image immediately made me wonder how it felt to be held in Mason’s arms...
Blinking my eyes against the sudden intrusion of unwelcome thoughts, I shook my head. “I don’t think you pull off florals very well.”
His scowl deepened. “You think? What did I do to you in a previous life to deserve this?”
I clapped my hands twice before pointing at the dressing room. There was no point in dragging it out. We had clothes to buy. “Next, please!”
It took a lot of strength not to burst out laughing at the look of pure disdain Mason shot me. But he slowly turned and made his way back to the dressing rooms, where he then tried on the next five outfits I’d picked out.
It wasn’t as difficult to find something for him as he’d made it out to be. Mason had an athletic figure that filled out most of the outfits in every right way possible. His broad shoulders and confident stance made him look like the models on the walls. By the time we were done with Banana Republic and Urban Outfitters, I’d convinced him to buy two brand new outfits that looked completely amazing on him. Even he couldn’t deny that we’d slam dunked our little shopping trip.
“All done,” I said, with a bounce in my step as we walked down the hall. “That wasn’t as bad as you expected, right?”
“Worse.” He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye. “You know, you’re meaner than you look.”
I threw my head back and laughed. As grumpy as Mason acted, he’d been a good sport about the whole thing. He’d put up with my incessant need to accessorize and even allowed me to pick out a new cologne for him to try. It was a delicious and sexy smell, one that reminded me instantly of him. He was wearing it now, the citrus scents wafting with every step he took.
Every so often during our shopping spree, I’d have to stop to remind myself that we were doing this all for Polly. No matter how much fun I had with Mason, no matter how fast these last two hours had gone by, it was all for another girl. The girl he was fated to be with. That reminder had helped keep the distracting thoughts about Mason’s perfectly shaped mouth out of my head.
Those lips belonged to one gal and one gal only. He belonged with her. My teenage hormones would just have to deal with that truth.
No matter how much they rebelled.
“Ready to go home?” I asked.
Maybe it would be better for me to call it a day and put as much space between myself and Mason Finnick as possible. A few hours of chemistry homework should chase him out of my thoughts. And if that didn’t work, there was always calculus.
Mason lengthened his stride, making me have to practically jog to keep up. “Nope, we’re not done yet. I still have a couple more dollars of my Christmas money to blow. Follow me.”
Curiosity caused a grin to break out on my face. Okay, maybe homework would have to wait. Spending a few more minutes with Mason couldn’t hurt.
Right?
He led me to the arcade nestled between a pretzel place and the game shop. It was dark in there, with dozens of flashing lights coming from various games and machines lined against the walls. A couple of middle schoolers were playing on the pinballs at the front. Mason walked right past them and straight to the deepest, darkest corner of the arcade where a massive contraption sat.
“What is that?” I stared at the half-enclosed game with a dinosaur plastered on the side. A two-seater bench sat inside a partial shell, with two massive black guns sitting in holsters before a flashing screen.
“Welcome to Jurassic Park,” Mason said, his mouth twitching with a smile. “You said you were decent at Fortnite. Let’s see if those skills translate into dinosaur hunting. Don’t let me down, Frye. The future of mankind depends on us.”
I rubbed my hands together nervously. Usually, I was
