Page 65 of Mason
We’ll be lucky if we make it through Monday without Duke taking Mason’s head off if Mason doesn’t stop antagonizing him. I press my lips together. And here I am, wedged between them.
Maybe I can talk to Bear about it. Just then, the big guy—who looks enormous and terrifying in uniform with all the padding—turns around, lifting his arm to us. He’s done that every so often. Almost like he’s making sure I’m still here. I raise mine back, giving him a little wave with a smile, as Duke is too busy frowning at his phone and Mason is off in his twisted-up head again and back to drawing on my thigh with his finger. I wonder if the action calms him, if it’s the drawing or the contact with my skin that he wants, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter. He’s not hurting anything, even if he is annoying Duke.
“Ah, shit.” Duke lets the expletive loose before tucking his phone back into his pocket and getting Mason’s attention over my head. “My father wants us to come up before the game’s over.”
Mason glances at me before his eyes connect with Duke’s. “Well, personally, I think that’s a shit idea, but I don’t think we can get away with blowing them off. Game’s going well, it’s the fourth quarter…” He turns ever so slightly. “Yeah. We’re going to have to pay our respects, so to speak.”
“Oh. Can I stay here?” I bite my lip, my head swiveling back and forth between them. I gesture to where the offensive line is getting up from the bench to head onto the field. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
Duke expels a harsh breath. “’Fraid not, Stella. We’ve been summoned. All three of us. And if I’m not mistaken, it’s you they actually want to see.”
Oh, god. I should have known. All at once, my heart begins breakdancing in my chest, my lungs squeeze painfully. I take a couple of deep, fortifying breaths. I don’t want to be anywhere near Tristan. And Bear’s dad? I’m curious about him—and their relationship—but the more I hear about him, the less I want to meet him. If I’m not mistaken, from the way Bear was talking about him, he’s more interested in the game than his son. And there’re definitely things Bear simply didn’t want to discuss earlier. I’m teetering on the edge of a freak-out at the thought of going up there.
“Come on. If we go now, we won’t miss much.” Mason rests his hand on my upper back as I sit forward. “We’ll be with you. It’ll be okay.”
Duke snorts. “Easy for you to say. Your shit dad won’t be there.” It’s the sort of statement that doesn’t require a response because from the look on Mason’s face he agrees with the assessment.
Duke leads the way from our seats to the stairs, while Mason and I follow. We push through doors at the top of the stadium, and my confusion must be apparent on my face because Duke murmurs, “Can’t access their box from outside. Have to enter from inside. They have an entire hospitality room to themselves.”
“Oh. Okay.” I shrug, taking in the huge hallway lined with concession stands of different types of food. The smell of hot dogs, burgers, and fries waft up my nose. We ate when we got here earlier, but I can always eat.
Mason draws me close to his side, seeing the direction my eyes have wandered. “There’s food in the VIP area if you’re hungry. In fact, I’m certain Tristan would be so fuckin’ happy to have you sample it and tell him how delicious it is.” He gives me a conspiratorial wink. “The guy goes overboard on the catering every time.”
I try to smile, but the mention of my stepfather doesn’t do much for my appetite. Mason ignores the irritated look Duke throws him over his shoulder at the mention of his father. I shrug. “Honestly, I’d like to get back to our seats as soon as we can. I liked the view down at field level.”
“I bet you did. Football players in tight pants. Can’t go wrong if you’re into that sort of thing.” He’s put on this funny-guy act, but I see right through it when he takes my hand in his, squeezing gently. I look up at him to gauge what he’s thinking, but he’s staring straight ahead toward frosted double doors.
Duke has a card that he swipes to let us into a spacious room. Upon entering, I’m surprised by the sheer size and grandeur of the space. It’s like some sort of weird trick of the eye. I wouldn’t have thought this room was as big as it is. Butman.They are living the high life up here. Delicious-smelling food, their own open bar, and a waitstaff ready to meet their every need.
And it’s for that reason my eyes are wide like saucers when I turn around and come face to face with Tristan.
“Good to see you’re taking in a game, Lennon.” His blue eyes, so like his son’s, are trained on me, studying me like I’m an ugly, wriggling bug under a microscope. His piercing gaze dips down to my T-shirt. “You’ve even got a bit of school spirit, huh?”
I tamp down every feeling I have about my stepfather because at the moment, all eyes are on us—and I know there’d be nothing worse than if I made a scene in front of all of theseimportantpeople.Insert eye roll here.But yeah. He’d take offense to it in a big way, one that I’d be sure to regret later.
When he and my mother were married, they had a huge—expensive—outdoor wedding at a beautiful venue. For some reason, I thought once we got past the ceremony I’d be able to slip away unnoticed to sit in the shade of a tree a short distance from their reception.
Boy, was I ever wrong. Afterward, Tristan had let me know exactly how much of an affront that was, what a disappointment I’d been, and how humiliated my mother had felt when I hadn’t been there to meet hisvery importantfriends.
The funny thing is, Mom had been fine—totally in her element—mingling with all the people she’d always imagined she should be rubbing elbows with. She’s been living out her dream from the moment they got engaged.
Mom honestly hadn’t given a shit where I’d been. I’d asked her about it later. I still have a hard time looking at Tristan without remembering how he’d shouted at me. His fury had been unrivaled. Duke had witnessed his father’s tirade from a distance, and I remember the embarrassment I’d felt, having his eyes on me while his father laid into me. I still have no idea if he’d heard what his father was saying.
Before I get a chance to respond to Tristan, his son puts a careful hand to my back, surprising me in much the same way he had when he made the same protective gesture at the frat party. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, but he’s too busy staring daggers at his father to notice he’s caught me off guard.
Tristan does, indeed notice Duke’s gesture of reassurance and Mason holding my hand. His jaw works to the side, as if he can’t quite figure us out.
Bolstered by the show of unity among the three of us, even if I wasn’t expecting it, I finally nod, meeting Tristan’s eyes. “Yes. Bear gave me the shirt to wear this morning.”
I hardly breathe the entire time he slowly assesses me. “We’ll have to get you a proper jersey. A new one. They make a woman’s cut that looks way better on the female form.” He reaches out, tugging on the knot at my waist. “This doesn’t quite suit you.”
I suck in a breath, flinching, but I don’t know if he saw it, because his eyes are still trained on the knot at my hip. My heart rate accelerates. I couldn’t care less about the cut of a jersey, and I can’t stop the smart comment that flies from my mouth. “This T-shirt suits me because it’sBear’s. I’m sure he’ll get me a jersey if he wants me to wear one.”
Before Tristan can respond to my direct snub, a huge guy with broad shoulders and a massive chest joins us, and my eyes widen. This can only be one person.
“Did I hear you say you’re wearing something of my son’s?”
Duke’s hand flexes on my back momentarily, almost as if he’s warning me of something. Same with Mason, who gives my hand a squeeze. The crazy thing is, I think I understand them perfectly well. They want me to be alert, to stay on my toes with this one. And I have a feeling if Bear were here, he’d not only share the opinion but might also stand between us, physically shielding me.
