I had firsthand experience with his amazing hands. I knew he was good, but this was something else. And he was doing it to make me feel better. I doubted he expected anything in return since I had come to the conclusion that he didn’t want to sleep with me again.
He kneeled next to me on the bed and massaged me until I was one happy Stella. The pain was gone; I was purring like a kitten and was willing to give him anything for just another massage like that.
“Better?” he asked, and I hummed into the pillow, too tired to lift my head. I was about five seconds away from falling asleep.
The bed shifted and I felt him get up. I heard his clothes rustle, then the light switch flicked, and the bed moved when he got back in. He pulled the covers over me, and the last thing I remembered was feeling happy.
I guess it turned out he did want to sleep with me again. Just without the getting naked part and with our eyes closed.
I was nervous. So nervous that I had to reapply my lipstick twice already because I’d chewed it off. I was wearing the dress my mother had sent to the garage while I was working. It was a boring grey with capped sleeves and came down to my knees. The shoes that accompanied it were enclosed black heels. I hated both on sight. But not wearing either wasn’t an option.
My hair was up in a chignon, something I had mastered early on, since my mother insisted on me doing my hair this way. My hair was long and thick. It was also wavy and didn’t like being told what to do. So any updo required copious amounts of hairpins and a lot of cursing.
But since this wasn’t my first dinner party, I was able to get myself together in about an hour. And now I was wasting time staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. I’d been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, wondering if this was the beginning of the end of my freedom.
And that was something I just couldn’t accept. I couldn’t live with my mother again. I would rather be homeless than move back in her mansion. It might still come to that. After all, I only had my current job for a few more weeks, and my mother had made sure that I was unable to get a job anywhere in Humptulips but at her office. The amount of pull she had over the town sickened me.
I wasn’t ready to leave my friends behind, and working in another town meant I had to drive about an hour just to get there. I wouldn’t be able to get a well paying job so soon after graduation. The gas money would take up most of my income and I would be right where I started. I was stuck for now.
Despite my worry about tonight, my thoughts kept drifting to Mason. When we woke up this morning, I was splayed over his chest, holding onto him like he was the last available door to hang on to on the Titanic. One of his hands was on my back, holding me in place, the other was buried in my hair.
I had never cuddled with someone all night. I didn’t think I would like it. But I guess Mason was good at showing me how different life could be, if I just let go of some of the control I cherished so much.
When I tried to move off him his arms tightened around me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he had asked in a voice raspy from sleep. I was ready to melt, and he hadn’t even done more than talk to me. This was getting out of hand.
“Bathroom?” I asked, more than stated since I didn’t really have to go.
“I locked the door to the bedroom and hid the key. So if I let you go to the bathroom, the easiest thing for you to do would be to come straight back to bed.”
Now someone normal would have been freaked out by this. But since I was anything but normal and about to enter another Mason fog—I had been touching him after all—I found the gesture oddly romantic.
“Got it. Bathroom, then back to bed.”
I lifted my head and found Mason grinning down at me. His hair was all over the place and I resisted the urge to smooth it down just to feel the soft strands glide through my hand; in that moment he looked like my every dream come true. Maybe he wasn’t so adverse to exploring things between us after all.
I felt his eyes trail me to the bathroom, so I gave my hips an extra swing. Mason’s massage had worked wonders, and it helped that I slept better than I had in a long time. I quickly used the facilities and washed my hands, taking my time brushing out my hair with my fingers and swiping some toothpaste across my teeth.
I had been nervous walking back, hoping I read the signs right.
Mason lifted the covers for me to slip back under and pulled me back into him. We were facing each other, our noses nearly touching. He entangled his legs with mine and shuffled closer, bringing our fronts flush together.
“So here is what’s going to happen,” he started while trailing a hand up my side. “We’re going to explore this thing between us.” His fingers were wandering higher, brushing hair off my face in a gesture so tender I had to swallow the sudden lump in my throat.
He traced a finger across my cheekbone and lips, making me shiver. He replaced his finger with his lips, talking in between kisses.
“We are not doing friends with benefits. You’re either in, or you’re out.” He paused for another kiss, this one on the corner of my
