Page 100 of Enemies with Benefits
"Different? Weird? New?" he offered.
"All of the above and a few I can't think of," I said, hoping my tone told him that I didn't mind much. It was weird to see, and I almost wished I could see that part of him when I wasn't in the shit or having a breakdown. I kind of wanted to see what it would be like to just...see it happen. Like when he saw me sometimes, and before he smirked, I'd see the lines around his eyes soften. For one second there, he felt the same tenderness that had just shown in his eyes, but without some pitiful reason for it, beforeremembering who he was dealing with, and he put his mask back on for the performance.
That sort of mask play was right up Mason's alley, but...no. Maybe with someone else, someone who wasn't me, he might find that side of himself more often. Things were too abrasive, too aggressive between us for anything gentle to exist. I was finding out how to have fun with whatever we had between us, but he was definitely finding it. Eventually, he would stop having fun, and I would...well, I would figure something out when I didn't have him constantly distracting me.
He looked me over before shaking his head. “I think we should probably call it a night, don't you?"
"You don't have to go back in?" I wondered.
"Nah, Lydia can handle things. She always could, that's why she's my second. And if I ever decide I don't want this place anymore, it's her I’d give it to."
"What would you do if you didn't own this place?"
"I don't know. Nothing right now because I don't have anything else that makes me happy like this place. Maybe something else will come along and I'll want it more, or it will fulfill me more."
"A club fulfills you?"
"What? Does fulfillment have to come from being a cop? A lawyer? A doctor? From being a therapist or teacher? Fulfillment comes from whatever makes you feel fulfilled, not from what other people thinkshouldfulfill you. Same thing with happiness, that comes from you, not from some checklist that someone made up and handed to you."
"Jesus," I grumbled, rubbing my face. "Maybe you're right, and I need to sleep. Because you sound like a college freshman who just had their first philosophy class, but you're also starting to make sense."
He laughed, and I wondered why I always forced myself to ignore how rich and pleasant the sound was, no matter how many times I heard it. “Just blame the alcohol."
I could sense he was ready to move on from the conversation, but I had to ask. “So, you said you'd move on if something else made you happier or fulfilled you more?"
"I did," he said, watching me with a patience I had never given him credit for before, but now I wondered if it had always been part of him, hidden by all the other parts. "What about it?"
"Does that work with people too?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, do you feel that way about people?"
"You're going to look at how close I am with my family and wonder that?"
"Okay, but...just your family?"
"Are you asking about people I've dated or slept with?"
Now that it was put so bluntly, I was feeling uncomfortable at what I’d started, but there was no graceful way to back out. "Y-yeah, sure."
He stared at me for several heartbeats, long enough for me to feel my gut squirm and a buzzing under my skin that was somehow pleasant and not. His mouth curled slowly, like an idea was occurring to him. "Used to."
Used to?
"Come on," he said, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. "Probably a bad idea to take you on the bike with all those drinks sloshing around in your gut. I'll get us a ride and have Lydia drop it off at my place after she gets off. I'm sure she still has her helmet here. She'll love it."
Used to?
"What was virgin about those drinks?" I asked as I followed him toward the road.
"They're for 'virgins' to the club. First timers."
"Oh, that makes a lot more sense."
"You were really wondering about that the whole time?"
"Yeah."
