Page 29 of Take Me
“It’s not a dress, it’s a skirt.”And I could count on two hands the number of times Mason’s seen me in either.I twirl for effect, feeling the skirt flutter around my knees.“I wasn’t sure what to wear for a wedding in a barn, so Hazel helped dress me.I need a second opinion.”
Mason quirks an eyebrow.“You’ve got the queen of fashion guiding you, and you cameherefor a second opinion?”
Scrumpy barks sharply, and Mason looks down.“My point exactly.”
“Are you inviting me in or are you gonna let me stand out here freezing my tits off?”
He blinks in surprise, then steps aside to usher me in.“I wasn’t even aware you had tits until—never mind.”
“Nice, Mason.”I punch him in the abs—those ridiculous, hard-as-steel abs—as I walk past him into the living room.I tug at the edge of my top, which took ages to hook by myself.I might have gotten it a little too tight.“My tits might not be big, but they’re perky as hell.”
Hazel confirmed it when she dressed me, and I’m hardly self-conscious about my assets.Ilikebeing less busty.
As I stride toward the sofa, Mason pulls the door shut and heads for the kitchen.“Not what I meant, and you know it.”There’s some banging around as he rounds up whatever refreshments he’s after.He might be a doofus, but the man makes good snacks.
“What did you mean then?”I’m standing by his sofa, studying his wall of family photos.There’s one in a frame from the day Jake and Cass got engaged.There’s another of Kaleb with his arm around Brooke at the edge of the highway.Off to the right, there’s a much bigger grouping of old photos.His mom in a wedding dress, looking frightened and young.His dad at the helm of a fishing boat, framed up by glacier-slick mountains.
There’s one of his grandparents with their arms wrapped around a whole mess of kids.I spot twelve-year-old Jake with a scowl, standing beside a gap-toothed Mason and Lucy.There’s Noah and Kaleb, and Parker before Parker was Parker.With six years between us, I hardly remember the youngest Spencer-King kid asParis.
But I always admired how lovingly Mason embraced his sister becoming his brother.Have I ever told him that?
“Here.”He thrusts an icy pint glass into my hand.“For the record, I wasn’t saying your tits were small.”He winces as he says it.“I never thought about your tits or looked at your tits or talked about your?—”
“Could you please stop saying ‘your tits’ like it’s the name of an eighties hair band?”I sip my beer, which is different from the one I tried earlier.I wriggle again as the top digs into my armpit.“Dad brought home your lime Kolsch earlier.This one tastes more like lemon and grapefruit.”
“It’s a new Saison I’ve been playing with.”He flops onto the couch and sets down a big bowl of chips.Beside that, I recognize his famous artichoke dip.“Low ABV for people who have to drive home.”
“Hmm.”I smile as I sip it, meeting his eyes over the rim of my glass.“You weren’t thinking I’d stay the night here with my new boyfriend?”
He gives me a one-shouldered shrug.“Would the two of you like the guest room?”
“Very funny.”I set down my glass and do another twirl.“Seriously, I need your opinion.You made that snarky comment about Harper and a strapless dress.I want to make sure this isn’t too skanky for a wedding.”
Mason’s eyes trail my body like he’s seeing me for the first time.They drag down my torso, snagging on peek-a-boo patches of flesh where the hem barely kisses the top of my skirt.His gaze dips lower, gliding down my bare legs to the tops of my boots.He takes his time scanning back up my body, coming to rest near my bare collarbones.I feel myself blushing, and I tug at the top again.
His eyes lift to mine like he’s coming out of a trance.“You look good.”There’s a croak in his voice, and I frown.
“Are you bullshitting me?”
“What?No, of course not.”He picks up his beer and takes a big gulp.“I’m just not used to seeing so much of you.”
Um, okay.“Why do you say it like that’s a bad thing?”
“It’s not a bad thing.Just different.”
“Mason—”
“You don’t look skanky, okay?”
“But do I looknice?”Maybe I want to look better than nice.That’s the first time I’m thinking it, but now that I have, I realize something.“I haven’t hung out with some of these people since before Neil dumped me.I want to look pretty, okay?”
“Okay.”He’s not meeting my eyes as he picks up his beer.
Something’s wrong here.
“Just tell me, okay?We’ve been friends a long time, and if you can’t be honest with me about wearing something inappropriate for?—”
“Jesus, Erika.”Mason bangs down his glass, his blue eyes blazing.“You look fucking fantastic, okay?Like, yank out my tongue with pliers, throw it in the gravel, and stomp it to pieces under those boots that make your legs look like a fucking dream.Are you happy now?”
