Page 78 of Most Valuable Player
Scarlet roars through Mason’s cheeks, and he makes a noise of dissent, putting his palm on my face and forcing me to stagger away. It’s completely deserved.
But worth it.
We clamber into my car, which is sure to reek of mildew tomorrow, but I don’t care. I got to have this moment with Mason. It sounds like it won’t be easy to keep that Liam bastard out of his life, especially if he has the Gray parents’ favor. “I’ll talk to my mom to see if you can stay with us for a while,” I say, driving along the curved roads to my little house in the woods.
“I can’t become a permanent member of your home just because there’s a chance my ex might show up at mine,” Mason says softly.
He’s not wrong—my parents will probably agree to let him stay when needed, but they won’t let it be the solution. It would be like sealing a bullet wound with a Band-Aid. A temporary fix that doesn’t address the root of the issue, which is that this man will always be a threat to Mason unless action is taken.
As to what that action should be…I don’t know. Mason can’t just pack up and move. Nor should he have to. Why can’t he feel safe and secure in his own home? It’s not fair.
“What do your parents know?” I ask, muscling through the chills raking my body. I need a hot, steamy shower. But Mason gets it first—I don’t like the ashen tinge in his skin.
“Everything,” Mason says softly.
“Like, even…?”
“I didn’t give details. I just mentioned that I think something bad happened that night. Mom said I shouldn’t judge him so harshly since I can’t remember anything. Dad was pissed for a while. Though, not anymore, apparently.”
The thought is mind numbing. “They still like him?” I ask weakly.
“ ‘Like’ isn’t the right word.” Mason hoists his knees into his skinny chest. “He’s wealthy and knows important people and my mom thinks our engagement is the only way to get in on that. There’s this banquet for his graduation they’re making me attend…anyway. Basically, they know I have a hard time making connections and think I’ll be alone forever if I don’t stay with him.”
My fingers whiten around the steering wheel as I pull into my driveway. What kind of lives have his parents led that they’re willing to accept the abuse their son has endured? I jam the car in park and twist toward him, frowning. “Can you refuse to go to the banquet?”
“I can try. But life in my house would be miserable. Mom holds a grudge and takes it out on us, especially Dad.” Mason massages his temples with frustration. “I just need to show up, eat dinner, make small talk, and go.”
“I’ll be there,” I say sharply.
Mason’s eyes shimmer, and his cold fingers creep atop my hand. “Thanks, Cameron,” he whispers. “Though, it might cause issues if I show up with someone who wasn’t invited.”
“Maybe. But with me there, maybe he’ll be less interested in bothering you.”
Mason looks dubious but smiles at me anyway.
We head inside to warm up. Mom left not long ago—sadly, with the hospital being short-staffed, she’s been having to go in morefrequently. But that just means Mason and I get the house to ourselves, since Dad’s still at the tattoo studio.
“Are you okay being alone with me?” I ask. “We can go somewhere public.”
Mason’s face softens, and he presses a hand to the small of my back, which causes tingles to rush up my spine. I didn’t even realize my heart was pounding until his touch begins to slow it, easing my tension. “I don’t mind,” he mumbles. “You make me feel safe.”
Those tingles pour into my stomach. I’m not sure how he can cool me off and light me ablaze simultaneously.
I let him wash first, and though I tell him to take his time so he can warm up, only eight minutes pass before he’s wandering out, dressed in a fluffy T-shirt and sweatpants tied tight around his waist. He looks so good in my clothes, all I can do is cough on my saliva, rush into the bathroom, and slam the door so he won’t see me blushing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mason
Cameron kisses me deliberately, and it’s not a sensation I’ve felt in years. Liam might’ve once held me this way, like I was a valuable artifact. A high-quality gemstone that needed to be treated with care.
But then he began to test my fragility—a scratch was fine, so long as I remained intact. He pushed harder, though. Bits and pieces flaked away, followed by masses that disintegrated in his palms. Over a few years, he had nothing to hold but the dust of my remains. It still shimmered, though, so he didn’t mind that there was little substance left to cling to.
Cameron and I should’ve studied longer, maybe. I have a job to do—get this boy on the field so they can make the playoffs. The scout is coming this week to observe, and I’m not even sure Cameron remembers. After everything I’ve learned, I can’t help but wonder just how invested he is infootball.He mentioned yesterday that he only used it as a form of escapism before he came here. So what does it mean to him now? Why did he go back to it?
Wedefinitelyshould’ve studied longer. But his waist feels good notched against mine, and his arm looks so sturdy braced on the bed beside my head, and the warmth of his hand is electrifying on the curve of my waist beneath my shirt. Orhisshirt, which has noticeably fallen away from my shoulder.
Liam kissed me with devotion in the early stages of our relationship. Over time, his lips stopped worshipping, and instead bit, gnawed, and bruised. Cameron means every movement he takes. The way his lips caress mine is achingly hot, and leaves my stomach in fluttering shambles.
