Page 89 of Most Valuable Player
“Water boy?”
“You look really good in a suit.”
I snicker, drawing back to pose seductively. “Is there anything I could make look bad?”
Mason rolls his eyes, then heads to his bed to finish getting dressed. He fumbles with his shirt buttons, though his fingers are too shaky, so I join him and take over. His vest and tie are burgundy, which looks good against his porcelain-white skin.
Mason’s eyes remain resolute. He’s ready to tackle this night despite what his body is trying to convince him.
A half hour later, we’re entering the banquet hall.
The stars glimmer overhead and the parking lot is alight with dimstreetlamps. I thread my fingers through Mason’s as we follow his parents toward the looming glass structure, within which we can hear a live orchestra. The hallway leading to the banquet rooms is carpeted and framed with golden chandeliers and exquisite paintings that slow Mason’s pace so he can better examine them. At least until his mother snaps, “Keep up, boys,” forcing us to abandon them.
“We can look at them on the way out,” I suggest.
Mason smiles, squeezing my hand tighter. I resist the urge to scoop him off his feet and go running far, far away.
We step into the most beautiful ballroom I’ve ever seen. Diamond chandeliers drip from the ceiling and jut from the room’s pillared perimeter. A warm golden ambience rains over the hall, causing the silver-trimmed chairs to glint as brightly as the china meticulously placed at the rounded tables. Delicate flower bouquets are centered atop each silky cloth.
The room is flooded with a hundred upper-class people wearing fancy jewelry and clothing, swirling champagne. When we clear the entryway, we’re stopped by a couple decked out in the flashiest garb of everyone. The woman is dressed in a shimmering gown with a plunging neckline, tall and elegant, her makeup smoky against her striking, ice-blue eyes. The man beside her wears a velvet tuxedo and buckled shoes.
“How good to see old friends!” the woman says with a honey-sweet smile, gliding forward to encompass Mrs.Gray in a hug. She draws back before Mason’s mom can even wrap her arms around the woman. “You’re stunning. I’m sure it’s not often you can dress up like this, mm? Oh, and Mason, my darling little thing, come here!”
She sweeps toward Mason and gathers him into a more lingering hug, forcing him to drop my hand. “Hello,” he says lightly.
“I’m so happy you made it. Liam will be thrilled.” She takes hiswrists, smiling earnestly at him. “Whenever we speak on the phone, all he wants to discuss is how much he misses you.”
Mason doesn’t smile back. “I came to talk to him,” he says, eyes roving the hall, clearly seeking Liam out.
“Oh good! He’s more than ready to spoil you, pumpkin.” She chuckles, drawing her husband to her side, who looks between everyone with slight distaste, like we’re not worth his time. At least until his eyes latch on to Mason and appear to soften.
“Mason,” he says warmly. “Our boy’s been out of sorts for months. You should’ve thrown him a bone so he could better focus on his studies.”
Mason’s expression remains unchanged, but their casual words make me grind my teeth. Why are they talking like the only reason he exists is for his shitty ex? I want to snap at them, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m his emotional support, his quiet bodyguard. He can handle himself.
“Liam is a grown man who knows where to place his priorities,” Mason says, snatching my fingers. I can almost feel his nerves shooting through me. “I’m sorry to say he’ll need to learn how to live without me. Though, it’s lovely to see you both.”
Mrs.Gray’s face contorts with horrified anger. Apparently she didn’t realize Mason’s goal tonight was to officially end things. Likewise, Liam’s parents shoot each other a startled glance, and his mother’s gaze falls to me. “And who’s this?” she asks, her voice suddenly as frigid as her eyes.
“A friend,” Mason says.
“You’ve brought a stranger to Liam’s banquet?” Her knife-sharp jaw shifts. “He was so excited to see you, Mason. Yet you’re only here to break his heart, all while flaunting around a new boyfriend. Isn’t that rather inappropriate?”
“I couldn’t agree more, Ella,” Mrs.Gray says, her face straining. “But he refused to come without this boy.”
They’re talking about me like I’m not standing with them. Just as I’m wondering if I should speak up, Mason says, “I’ve moved on, and it’s time Liam does the same. Though, I’ll always be grateful for your support.”
I wonder how much they’re privy to. Do they know their son is an abuser? Did Liam and Mason hide their relationship until the age gap was more “appropriate”? I’m not sure. But being around these adults—theseparents, neither set of which did anything to help Mason—makes my blood boil. I bite my lips to keep impulsivity from taking over.
“Well”—Liam’s father steps away, drawing his wife with him—“we’re sorry to hear that, Mason. I’m sure Liam will be there the moment you realize what you’re missing. You’re young—I suppose you still have growing to do before you can understand the weight of your mistakes. Enjoy the party.”
They float away to greet other guests. I’m nearly bursting at the seams with anger. I want to unbutton my jacket and swathe Mason inside so nobody can look at him.
“Thanks, Cameron,” he whispers.
I blink down at him. He lifts my hand and kisses my wrist, fully aware of his mother’s glare, and the boldness flares my cheeks hot. “I haven’t done anything,” I croak.
“You’re here. That’s something.”
