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“He’s quite taken with you, Harper. I’ve heard all about your sessions together at the center.”
“He’s a good kid.”
“He is.” She glanced back at her sons. “I just wish I knew what the future held for him. Especially if Mason decides to enter the draft.”
“You think he won’t?”
“I think my son would move home in a heartbeat if I let him.”
Her words didn’t surprise me. Mason clearly carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. That weight mostly being a ninety-pound twelve-year-old who adored his older brother. But it seemed unfair for him to pay for the sins of his father.
“I hear your father and Mason have been working quite closely together,” Melinda said.
“Apparently, so,” I replied a little coolly.
Of course, it made sense that Mason had talked to his mom about a local legend like Coach Dixon working with the team. I just hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt to hear the words.
“Hopefully, he can help Mason make some big decisions.”
“I’m sure he will.” I gave her a tight smile before excusing myself to the restrooms.
What was I doing here? Clinging onto some foolish notion that maybe Mason would, what? Choose me over my father and his chance to go all the way?
My life wasn’t a fairy tale. He wasn’t going to burst into the restroom, kick down the stall door, and profess his undying love for me.
“You’ve got to stop doing this,” I whispered to myself.
But was it so bad to crave a connection? To want to feel that rush of endorphins when you kissed a guy or fell into bed with him?
Sex was a double-edged sword for girls like me, though. I’d tried the casual thing. Over and over, I’d told myself it would be different, and that I wouldn’t catch feelings.
Nobody kept getting hurt but me though.
Time and time again, I let myself believe—hope—things might be different. But time and time again, my desire to be loved made me undesirable.
Mason was different, though. For the first time, I found myself building walls. Protecting myself. Because deep down, I knew he had the one thing none of those guys before him had.
The power to break my heart.
Why him?
Why did he have to be different?
Annoyed with myself, I washed my hands and headed back into the bar. Only to be met with a solid wall of muscle.
“Going somewhere, blondie?” Mason smirked, reaching out and snagging a curl between his fingers.
“Oh, hey.” I smiled. Bright and breezy, completely at odds with the tumultuous storm raging inside me.
“We’re heading out. Scottie is tired, and it’s getting late.”
“Of course. I’ll go and say goodbye.” I went to move around him, but he stepped into my path. “Mase, come on,” I chuckled, looking up at him with mild exasperation.
But the intensity in his gaze knocked all the air from my lungs. “M-Mase?” I croaked, suffocating in the heat in his eyes.
The air crackled, setting the fine hairs along my arms and the back of my neck on end.
“Sorry about my brother tonight,” he said. “You know he doesn’t mean—”
