Page 81 of Saving the Rockstar

"Speaking of you two," I said, unable to resist the opportunity to tease, "how was your date last night? From the looks of those hickeys, I'm guessing it went well."

Mason's hand flew to his neck, his eyes widening in horror, as Dylan let out a cackle of delight. "Oh, it went very well," he purred. "In fact, I'd say it was a rousing success."

Mason scowled, his cheeks flushing a dull red. "It was fine," he grumbled, avoiding my gaze. "Nothing to write home about."

Dylan gasped, clutching his chest in mock affront. "Excuse you, I was a perfect gentleman. I pulled out all the stops - fancy restaurant, romantic walk in the park, the whole nine yards."

Mason rolled his eyes, but I could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "If by 'romantic walk in the park,' you mean 'getting us kicked out of said park for trying toreenact the lift from Dirty Dancing on a park bench,' then sure. Very romantic."

Dylan sniffed, tossing his head haughtily. "It's not my fault you have no appreciation for the classics. And besides, you loved it. Don't think I didn't see you laughing."

"I was laughing at you, not with you," Mason retorted, but there was no heat behind it. "You nearly gave that poor old lady a heart attack."

Dylan huffed, turning to face him. "Well, what do you want me to say? That you were a perfect gentleman, with your fancy suit and your expensive wine?"

Mason's smirk widened. "I seem to recall you enjoying that expensive wine quite a bit. In fact, I distinctly remember you proclaiming it the 'nectar of the gods' after your second glass. And let's not forget your dramatic gasp when the waiter brought out the dessert. I thought you were having some kind of fit."

Dylan huffed indignantly. "It was a work of art. That chocolate soufflé deserved a standing ovation."

"It was a dessert, not a Broadway performance."

Dylan's blush deepened, and he looked away, mumbling something under his breath.

I bit back a grin, watching the fond exasperation play across Mason's face. For all their bickering, for all their posturing, it was clear that they cared for each other deeply. It was in the softness of Mason's gaze when he thought Dylan wasn't looking, in the way Dylan leaned into Mason's space, always seeking his warmth, his steadiness.

"So," I said. "When's the second date?"

Mason blinked, looking startled, as Dylan's face lit up with unholy glee. "Yeah, Mase," he said, nudging Mason with his elbow. "When are you going to ask me out again? I'm waiting with bated breath over here."

Mason scowled. "I'll ask you out again when you agree to behave yourself for once. No more shenanigans, no more ridiculous stunts. No more trying to convince the waiter that you're a famous actor doing research for a role. Just a nice, normal date."

Dylan pouted, his lower lip jutting out. "But where's the fun in that? You know you love my shenanigans. They keep things interesting."

Mason huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Interesting is one word for it. Migraine-inducing is another."

But there was a fondness beneath the snark, a softness in his gaze that belied his words.

Dylan pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe if you want to keep me under control, you should just ask me to be your boyfriend."

The words hung in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once. I watched as Mason's eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

But then he was stepping forward, his hand coming up to cup Dylan's cheek. "Dylan, will you be my boyfriend?"

Dylan stared at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. For a moment, I thought he might actually faint.

But then a slow smile spread across his face, his eyes shining with joy. "Yes, of course I will."

The whoop of joy that Dylan let out was so loud, so explosive, that I nearly toppled off the couch in surprise. Helaunched himself at Mason, peppering his face with kisses as Mason laughed and halfheartedly tried to fend him off.

"You're ridiculous," Mason grumbled, but he was grinning, his arms coming up to wrap around Dylan's waist. "Absolutely ridiculous."

Dylan beamed, unrepentant. "Yeah, but you like me anyway."

And Mason, to my surprise, didn't argue. He just smiled, soft and sweet, and pulled Dylan in for a kiss that had me averting my gaze, feeling like an intruder in my own home.

When they finally surfaced for air, both of them flushed and grinning like idiots, I cleared my throat pointedly.

"As happy as I am for you two," I said, fighting back a smile, "we still have work to do. Namely, figuring out how I'm going to win Jared back."

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