Chapter 52 Chapter 52 Red & Green Flags
The sun is already setting by the time Mason finally makes it over to Gemma’s. The house is buzzing, music low but steady, voices overlapping. Nick walks in from the pool area, water still dripping from his hair.
"He just parked a lime green Lambo," he announces, grinning.
Of course he did.
It takes Mason a few minutes to make his way up the stairs. Those few minutes feel like forever. Then the doorbell rings.
Gemma answers it.
My mouth goes dry instantly.
Mason steps inside, and the entire room shifts. Everyone is watching him. Marcus and his guys are already on the couch, having arrived just minutes earlier. I’m leaning against the bar, trying to act normal, but the silence that settles over the room is anything but.
He walks toward me, slow, steady, confident.
Four small bags hang from his hand.
Black jeans. Black dress shirt, untucked. Clean. Simple. Perfect.
The closer he gets, the hotter I feel.
Mason slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into him like it’s instinct. "Did everyone hear me earlier?" he whispers.
I nod.
His lips brush mine, soft at first, then deeper. The world drops away instantly. My focus narrows to him—his hand sliding up my back, fingers tangling at the base of my skull as he pulls me closer.
Then he pulls away.
The absence lingers on my lips, frustrating and warm.
He gives me a quick peck, then hands me one of the small bags. The room is still silent—everyone watching.
Mason moves on, handing Gemma, Tish, and Erika the others.
"Open them," he says.
We all move at the same time, pulling boxes from the bags. I flip mine open, and inside, nestled in velvet, is a gold bubble letter "E."
"Turn them!" Mason says.
I flip it over.
My full name is engraved on the back—along with my birthdate.
It’s… adorable.
"How did you know my birthday?" Gemma asks, stunned.
Mason smiles. "Elle mentioned it when we were texting. Said you don’t celebrate, but she was sending flowers. My friend makes these, and I couldn’t just get the birthday girls something without including all four of you. I know how close you are."
He looks at me when he says it.
And it clicks.
Mason is… good. Sweet. Thoughtful. He actually listens. Not just to respond—but to hear me.
My chest tightens a little.
He winks at me.
"Fucking Mason Jones setting the bar high," Colt mutters. "The new guy."
He laughs, but there’s an edge to it.
Colt and Gemma have been together for five months now. Tish and Marcus about the same. Erika and Kyle—over a year. Colt dated Tish before that… and me for a week.
Worst week ever.
"You’re just a shit boyfriend, Colt," I fire back.
"Am not. The four of you are the devil’s spawn." He looks at Mason. "You got the worst one from the Wild Four. Her horns are the longest. She’s got dick in different area codes. And I would know—I’ve dated three of them. They love sharing."
"Excuse you?" I snap. "What is your problem today?"
Gemma immediately grabs him, dragging him away. "Sorry! He’s clogged up," she laughs. "It’s been a week—we haven’t had sex!"
They disappear upstairs.
Tish turns the music up. "Yeah, I don’t need to hear my ex and my friend fucking. Hard pass!"
We all laugh.
"Gemma gets loud," I murmur to Mason, who’s still holding me. "Scared yet?"
He rubs the back of his neck, shaking his head, but I can see it—questions sitting behind his eyes. A lot of them.
Guests start pouring in, filling the space fast. I lean into him slightly.
"We can talk later," I tell him quietly. "Anything you want to know—I’ll tell you."
The house fills to capacity. Music gets louder. Colt apologizes when he comes back down, acting like nothing happened.
Mason and I settle into a corner. I sit on his lap, our heads close together as we talk in low voices. Marcus and his crew perform a routine for Tish and Erika, and Mason watches, completely unfazed by the amount of shirtless guys now dominating the living room.
Chairs get pushed aside. Music gets louder.
People start dancing.
Across the room, I spot Nick.
He winks at me.
"I’m sorry," Mason says suddenly. "I don’t really dance."
"It’s fine," I say, then pause as I see Nick moving toward us. "Do you mind if I dance with Nick? He’s coming over."
Mason hesitates.
I can feel it before he even speaks.
The conflict.
He wants to say no.
I can see it in his eyes—the instinct to claim, to hold, to control. But he swallows it.
The air suddenly feels thick, too warm, suffocating.
"Yeah, baby. Have fun."
I take Nick’s hand as he reaches me.
Gemma notices immediately and switches the music.
"Nick is about to school you all!!!" she shouts.
Nick doesn’t waste a second.
He pulls me in, slow and controlled, his movements smooth, deliberate. My arms lift around his neck, guided by him. His hand slides down my side, over my hip, then lower.
He lifts my leg slightly, hooking it against him as he dips us in a slow circle.
I feel him hardening.
Of course I do.
He spins me, pulls me back, presses me into him. His hands roam—familiar, hungry. Too familiar.
Nick turns me so my back is against his chest. He pushes me forward, bending me slightly, grinding into me as he pulls me back upright.
My breath catches.
I glance across the room.
Mason.
His face is red. His jaw tight. That same look I’ve seen when he fights.
He’s about to snap.
I tap Nick’s arm. "Stop."
I pull away immediately.
Mason is already standing, already heading for the door.
Shit.
I follow him quickly, pushing through people, out the door, down the steps after him—
But Gemma grabs my arm hard.
"We don’t chase after guys!" she says loudly.
Loud enough for Mason to hear.
He stops.
And turns around.