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It felt right.
Maybe I really could handle this goodbye.
That peaceful moment was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sound of distant celebrations breaking through the night air. The sudden reminder that Mason was in there, celebrating his big win, was hard to stomach. I wanted nothing more than to go back in there and run into his arms. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
Or ever.
And just as I was sinking back into my misery, a throat cleared behind me. “What do you want?”
My shoulders tensed. I knew that voice. But he wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be surrounded by his adoring fans, celebrating a huge win.
“Mason?” I turned slowly, almost afraid I was hallucinating the sound of his voice.
He stood only a few feet behind me, still wearing his white basketball jersey. His black backpack was flung over his shoulder. The darkness obscured his eyes just enough that I couldn’t tell if he was glaring at me in anger or just waiting for a response. His sudden appearance made my knees feel like jelly and I was afraid I was going to fall once again in my wobbly high heels.
“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly, surprised my voice was working.
How had he found me? I would’ve thought the fans in there would’ve distracted him long enough for me to get to my car.
He took a step toward me, the lights of the parking lot throwing his face more into view. There was no glare. No sign of anger. His forehead was furrowed and his mouth pulled down into a deep frown. Questions blazed in his eyes. “You’re the one who showed up at my game after disappearing off the planet this afternoon. So I have to know, Trina, what is it that you want?”
My gaze traced the hard lines of his mouth, remembering just a week ago how he’d kissed me so completely my head spun. Desperation exploded in my gut. Hadn’t I been completely clear today? I wanted him! No one but him. Why was he making me humiliate myself again?
“I can’t...” I took a step backwards and waved a hand at him. “I just can’t talk to you right now.”
“Okay, what’s it going to take?” He raised his arms in question and moved another step toward me. “Another game of spin-the-bottle? Another dare? Trina Frye, I dare you to tell me once and for all what’s going on inside that head of yours, because I’m done guessing. I told you how I felt about you and you rejected me. Pushed me on another girl. And then today, you tell me in front of a room full of people that you fell for me?”
He pushed a hand through his hair, ruffling the sweaty locks and looking both frustrated and unbelievably sexy at the same time. My fingers felt that familiar itch, except instead of wanting to create art, I wanted nothing more than to work my fingers into his soft hair. Biting my lower lip, I kept my hands glued to my sides and grimaced at his speech. Hearing him describe it aloud was painful. I really was the worst.
“So, what is it?” he asked, his voice lowering into a growl. “Put me out of my misery, Trina. Forget about school. Forget about anyone else. Forget the stupid plan. Tell me, for once, what you really want.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I turned on my heels and sped toward the parking lot as fast as I could go without spraining an ankle. My Chevy waited for me at the end of the next row, its blue exterior winking in the glow of the street lamps like a beacon of safety. My brain had completely shut off. It was in flight or fight mode now, and flight was the only option.
“Trina, come on, talk to me.”
Mason jogged to my side, not touching me, but easily keeping pace until I made it to my passenger door. He groaned in frustration as I fumbled with my car keys. When they slid from my trembling fingers to the ground, he reached to pick them up.
“Give me back my keys, please,” I said, my eyes glued to the door handle. If I looked at him, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together. “I can’t stay here.”
He reached for my hand and placed the keys in my palm, but didn’t let go. Instead, he gently enclosed it with his two hands, sending electricity shooting up my arm. I should’ve pulled away. He shouldn’t have been touching me. Polly was just inside that gym. He should’ve been celebrating with her.
“I won’t stop you from leaving,” he said softly, leaning down to try and catch my eye. “But I wish you’d stay. I wish you’d talk to me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. What was he trying to do to me? I’d come here to say goodbye, not relive my humiliating presentation. This would’ve been a lot easier if he’d just let me fade away from his life, like he’d planned when he’d transferred classes.
“I’m not sure what else there is to talk about,” I said, staring at his tennis shoes. The left shoe’s laces had become untied. “I said those things to you today because keeping them inside felt like lying. But I’m not expecting anything from you. I know you’re back with Polly. I’m happy for you.”
He reached under my chin and gently tilted my head up until my gaze met his. Frustration danced in his eyes. “Who told you I’m back with Polly?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I couldn’t tell if it was because of his touch or my embarrassment. “Well, no one. I saw you two together the other day. It just makes sense. With the history you two have, it’s fate.”
“Have you ever considered that fate is just another word for one of your plans?” he asked, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I thought the whole point of your little speech today was that you were giving up on having a plan.”
My mouth fell open as I tried to argue with him, but I couldn’t. Okay, so maybe Mason was on to something. When he put it that way, fate did seem like another version of the plan. If I truly was giving up on having plans, then I had to let go of the idea of fate.
