Page 80 of Boundaries

“No not you. You were just about to leave,” Mason informed him, his voice firm and hostile.

I watched as Martin literally jumped to it; I’d never seen a boy move as fast.

“Right, of course. Yes, that’s what I was doing. Bye Amy,” he stuttered with a nod, his beer sloshing as he trotted away.

Pursing my lips, I turned slowly, my head snapping back to see Mason standing there all tall and imposing, his face was in semi-darkness as the sun was at his back, but I didn’t need to see his expression to know he was pissed off.

Really? Well so was I! Fucking double standards. How dare he scare off the boy I was talking to like a possessive boyfriend?

Although a piece of me was appalled by that unspoken stamp of ownership, satisfaction still rolled through me that he was there. He said the fair wasn’t his scene, so the only reason he had turned up was for me. I savoured that thought.

Mason moodily folded his arms over his chest. He wore jeans and a white tank top and looked fricking incredible. His scent entered my nostrils and my pulse skipped a beat. God, how I fancied this man.

I attempted to shift my body into a more attractive position. His eyes narrowed at the movement.

Mason cocked his head to one side, “Do I need to repeat myself Amy?” he drawled, that throaty noise causing a frisson to snake along my spine. Warmth filled my veins.

“What did it look like I’m doing? Talking and drinking,” I replied abruptly, flicking my hair back over my shoulders.

“Talking and drinking with whom?”

Jealous-man-syndrome bounced off him in waves. I wasn’t stupid, it was written along every angry crease on his face. The thought of Mason feeling jealous of me talking to another boy was a welcomed one. And I had behaved quite flirty with Martin.

I frowned at the man that I’d allowed to own me for the last few weeks. I would not weaken and let him destroy me all over again.

“He’s an old school friend. Not that it’s any of your business.” Anticipation surged into my chest at the thought of how he’d take my response. If he thought for one minute that I was about to bend over and take it, he could do one. Mason McKenna was not the boss of me.

Chrissy and Betty shuffled to their feet as they watched the drama.

“Hey you two, call a truce. No fighting at the fair,” Betty chimed with a saucy look. She was already quite tipsy. Chrissy just stood there, staring at me with a knowing glint in her eye. I decided against trying to decipher that one. Maybe Jenna had said something to her about Mason and I? Blabbermouth.

“Oh, I haven’t even started yet,” Mason rudely interrupted.

I opened my mouth, but my words were just vapour. Our eyes were tangled, and that angry promise in his tone forced a wave of excitement to crash through my abdomen. I know fighting shouldn’t have been considered a good thing between us, but it was so much better than being ignored. I hated the silence.

Betty and Chrissy shared a glance before stating, “Don’t let us stop you then. Sounds like you two have things to say,” Betty remarked with a tight smile.

Mason shot her a sideways glance before twisting his head back toward me, “I couldn’t agree more.” And without another word, he took me by the wrist, his long fingers curling around my skin. I dropped the rest of my beer, and it fell to the ground, the liquid splashing up my legs. He swore as some hit the bottom of his jeans before turning on his heel and pulling me behind him like a rag doll.

“Mason,” I panted, trying to pull away but his grip tightened and he started to drag me through the crowd, causing all sorts of attention. I was about to get my arse chewed off that much was apparent.

OMG! What would people think? Mason McKenna was manhandling me through the fair. I was usually all about being the centre of attention but not right then.

Suddenly Alex stepped out in front of us, “What’s going on? Are you OK Amy?” he questioned; his face drawn into a puzzled yet accusatory expression.

“I’m fine Alex,” I assured him in a breathless voice as I drew level beside Mason. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Mattie wasn’t with him and his position had forced Mason to stop. I swayed on my feet, suddenly feeling unsteady and tugged against the manacle almost crushing my bones. Mason tugged me in front of him, my back against his chest. He was no doubt glaring the death sentence down at Alex over my shoulder.

Alex stood his ground, “I think you should let her go until you calm down Mason,” he suggested in a reasoning voice.

Mason inhaled slowly, the hardness of his chest swelling behind me. He’d released my wrist and now his hands were on my hips like he was branding me his, marking his territory.

“I suggest you go back to your girlfriend and stay out of it,” Mason barked, no stranger to violence.

A flicker of panic ran through me.

“I’m just saying that you need to calm down,” Alex said again.

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