Chapter 50 Chapter 50 The Date
"Wear something comfortable." Mason’s smooth voice echoes in my head. I swear there is nothing between my ears sometimes. Why did I agree to this date?
I glance at myself in the mirror one more time. Light blue jeans, pink T-shirt, and my pink Chucks. My hair is gray now—it took weeks of bleaching, but it actually looks cute. After this, I’m dyeing it pink again.
School started a month ago, and so far, senior year is amazing. Soccer season is coming up soon. Everyone’s busy, so we haven’t really seen each other since the end of summer. Ivan texts here and there, but it’s nothing more than quick check-ins. Vince is engaged to the demon. Good for them. She’s going to poison him one day—I wouldn’t trust her with anything.
The doorbell rings, snapping me back to reality.
I grab my bag from the foyer table and open the door. Mason is leaning casually in the doorway, and damn—his hotness hits like a burn. He blinks those long, dark lashes at me, hazel eyes warm before his lips even move.
"You look cute. Ready?"
I nod, and he takes my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He opens the door to his baby blue Rolls for me. I slide in, the interior still carrying that new-car smell. Mason walks around and gets in, and seconds later we’re pulling away from my building, heading north, out of town.
I glance over at him.
"You’ll love it, I promise," he says, grinning, eyes fixed on the road. Both hands on the wheel—focused, controlled.
As we get closer, I recognize where we’re going. A small zoo just outside Vegas. Free-roaming animals, an old Western town setup, a restaurant, and a cute little pond. So, he stalks my socials too. I love animals. If I wasn’t so busy with school, sports, and boys, I’d have a dog. Honestly, I’d drop the boys for a dog in a heartbeat.
Mason parks in the dirt lot. I hop out before he can open my door, scanning the area.
It’s empty.
I turn to him, confused.
"So... I might have rented it out for the afternoon," he admits with a sheepish smile. "I get recognized a lot, and I didn’t want distractions on our first date."
I smile despite myself. He really is something else.
He grabs my hand again and leads me inside. We wander around, petting deer and goats. There’s a baby zebra, an ostrich, pigs, monkeys, and so many birds. We make easy conversation—school, soccer, my friends. We’ve been talking for months, but my nerves are still shot.
At least my hands aren’t sweaty.
He hasn’t let go of me once.
He asks why he hasn’t seen me at T-Time, and I laugh.
"I only go on Mondays. After school."
Apparently, he’s been hoping to run into me on weekends. I’ve basically just scheduled myself a few Monday nights with him.
"Can you ride?" he asks.
I start laughing immediately.
"I’m sorry—my mind is always in the gutter. Ride what?"
"A horse," he says, laughing, his face turning slightly red. "An actual horse."
"Yes," I say, biting back all the extra comments I could make. Like listing everything else I can ride—including him.
Mason tries to give me a boost, but I hop on like I’ve done it a thousand times. He smiles as he mounts his horse, then leads us out into the valley, through the mountains.
As we near Red Rock, I spot it.
A picnic.
Set up perfectly.
It’s adorable. It really is. But something about how romantic it is gives me a weird ick I can’t explain.
We tie off the horses and sit on the blanket. He pulls food and drinks from insulated baskets. Every time our eyes meet, little sparks roll through me.
"Can I ask an inappropriate question?" I say.
His eyes widen. "Umm... shoot."
"What’s your ethnicity?"
He exhales, laughing. "Oh—you scared me. I’m Native American and white. My mom is Paiute."
"Am I scary?" I tease.
"You’re intimidating," he admits. "Especially after I already made myself look like a fool." He pauses. "Your friends know, right? That’s why they were laughing and teasing you at the club?"
"Yes. No secrets with them. And I’m already apologizing in advance for how crazy they are. Did you tell your friends? They were laughing too."
"Unfortunately, yes," he groans. "They won’t let it go. Keep asking when I’m going to redeem myself. Just so we’re clear—that awkward moment? I’m never that forward. I don’t put out on a first date either."
I laugh. "Somehow, I already knew."
"Can I ask an inappropriate question now?"
"Please," I beam, resting my face in my hands.
"What happened between you and Sergey? How serious was it?"
"Damn," I laugh, then sigh. "It was intense. At least I thought it was. About a month and a half. He proposed. I said no. He moved on in three months... it took me five."
"Wow," he says softly. Then, more carefully, "Would you come to our rematch in two months? It’s here."
I make a face.
"Not in the crowd," he quickly adds. "In the box. With my guys. Bring your friends."
I tilt my head. "I’ll make you a deal. Come to Erika and Tish’s double birthday at Gemma’s, and I’ll think about the fight. I need to see if you can survive my friends."
"Deal." He pauses, studying me. "Can I kiss you?"
I nod.
His hand cups my face, warm and steady. His tongue brushes my lips, and I part them without thinking. The kiss deepens instantly, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and everything else fades. Sparks ripple through my body, building fast.
He leans closer, his other hand gripping my hip, pulling me toward him. I shift, straddling him, staying on my knees instead of fully sitting in his lap. My hands move to his face, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
His lips are soft. Too soft.
His hands slide lower, settling on my hips, then drifting to my ass. He doesn’t grab—just rests there—and it drives me insane. I want him to grip me harder, to take more.
I’m already wet. Already wanting more.
If he wasn’t so damn wholesome, we’d be fucking right here.
I wait for him to pull away, torturing myself.
Instead, he pulls me fully into his lap.
I freeze for a second, sitting on his hard-on, forcing myself not to grind down on it. My body is already reacting, already unraveling.
He pulls back slightly, both of us breathing harder.
"This is... way harder than I thought," he mutters.
Then he kisses me again.
This time, his hands guide my hips, slowly pulling me forward and back. The friction hits instantly, sharp and addictive.
I gasp against his mouth.
The movement builds, steady, controlled, and I can’t stop it. My body takes over, chasing it, needing more.
I bite his lip as the tension snaps.
And I let myself go over.