Page 55 of Hypnotized By Love

“Yes, sure, whatever.” I wanted to kiss him again, so I definitely needed to go. It was much easier to release the belt than it had been to buckle it, so I was up and out of the car quickly.

I heard Mason following along behind me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m going to walk you to the door. The last thing I need is for you to fall and knock yourself out and for your mom to come out and find you that way in the morning. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I completely understood that sentiment, as wanting to keep him safe from physical harm had been driving my actions for the last couple of days.

He walked with me up to the front porch.

“Good night,” I told him, ready to make my escape and go to bed. My hazy happiness had started to wear off, and instead my brain was uncomfortably reminding me that I had tried to kiss him and he’d rejected me.

“Night,” he said.

Again there was that moment where I felt like we both wanted more, but he’d already said no, and I wasn’t in the mood for further humiliation.

I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted it, but it was locked.

“Oh no! Locked.” My parents didn’t lock the door until they went to bed. They must have turned in early tonight.

“Don’t you have a key?”

“No, I haven’t needed one. Usually somebody is always up when I come home.” I registered how sad that was—that my middle-aged parents were typically wide awake when I came back from a night out because I tended not to stay out very late.

I walked away from the door, headed for my backyard. It took a second for Mason to follow me, as he was obviously confused by my actions.

“Where are you going?” he asked as I let myself through the gate.

“To the back door.”

“Why don’t you just ring the doorbell? Or call somebody to open the door?”

“Because I’m not going to let my parents see me drunk!” I said as we walked along the path toward the back of the house.

“You’re twenty-four years old. I’m pretty sure they know you drink,” he said.

“But I’m the one who has to be perfect,” I responded. The one who didn’t worry them. The one who did everything right and always succeeded so that I wouldn’t add any stress to their lives.

I didn’t say that part, but from the look Mason was giving me, it was like he understood.

Worried that he might ask me to explain myself, I added, “My mom knows I was with you, and my current state would just be grist for the mill, and I do not need her input tonight. Plus, my dad would come out here and grill you about your intentions.”

He put his hand over his heart. “I could assure your father that my intentions toward you are purely sexual.”

Molten heat exploded in my abdomen, and I had to focus on breathing because my lungs had stopped cooperating. He’d obviously meant it as a joke, and I felt like I needed to let out a forced laugh so that he wouldn’t guess at the reaction I was having to his words.

“You don’t have to pretend to laugh just to humor me,” he said with a smile, as if he hadn’t said something so provocative that I was still trembling from it. He walked over to the biggest tree in the backyard and peered up at our treehouse. “I remember when we used to play up here.”

“I had plans in high school to lure you up there.” I didn’t know why I’d said it but regretted it the second I did.

“What were you going to do with me if you’d succeeded?” he asked with interest.

There was no way I was going to elaborate. I’d had enough rejection for one night. My reply was to keep walking to the back door. Mason followed closely behind, and the warmth from him, his scent ... I was feeling intoxicated all over again.

The back door was locked as well, just as I’d suspected—my dad was always thorough in his nighttime routine—and I took off my shoes.

“What’s the plan?” Mason asked.

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