Page 30 of Penalty Box
“Trucks are easier than people.”
With a flourish, he launched his empty beer can into the trash for an easy two-pointer. “Guess that explains why you’re always elbow-deep in engines.”
I sat on the edge of his workbench, eyeing him curiously. “What’s your excuse?”
“Honestly? The quiet.”
He said it so simply, it stole my breath. Because beneath the flirting and the walls he kept halfway up, I could see it again. The weight he carried around like it was stitched into his skin.
“Then I’ll try not to talk so much,” I teased.
“Don’t do that.” His voice had dropped, and he was standing in front of me with a look I couldn’t quite read.
“Do what?”
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Not wanting to lose contact just yet, he traced his finger all theway along my jaw. Then his hand dropped away, and I could breathe again.
“Don’t act like this isn’t exactly what it is.”
That electric charge that was always between us pulled tight, rushing through me in pure white heat and nothing else.
“And what exactly is it?”
“You tell me,” he said, never once taking his eyes from mine.
I stared at him, pulse racing. “I thought we were changing ball joints.”
He stepped closer, right between my legs. I could count the flecks of black scattered in his eyes. My lips parted slightly, and I wet them with my tongue.
“You really don’t know that I know?”
This was the part where he was supposed to lean in and kiss me. Where I let him finally kiss me. Instead, he went and said something that made no sense.
“Know what?”
Mason reached past me to grab another beer, and straightened. As the can hissed open, he said, “That you’re not just Cass. You’re CassMcAvoy, specifically Coach McAvoy’s daughter.”
The shockwave beating down on me should’ve been anticipated. The video had gone viral. Of course my dad would’ve found out. And being himself, of course he would’ve cornered Mason about it.
“What did he say to you?” I demanded. “Is that why you didn’t text me back last night?”
His laughter was caustic, slicing through the built-up tension like a freshly sharpened blade. “He told me I could date whoever I wanted. Just not you.”
My fingers twitched. I wanted to reach for him. To pull him back into the bubble we’d made for ourselves, untouched by reality. But I couldn’t. Not when the rules were laid down like land mines and both of us were standing on top of one.
“I’m not good at this,” I admitted. “At the whole… being someone’s complication thing.”
“You’re not,” he said, fierce and sure. “You’re the only thing that’s felt remotely normal since I got here.”
“Then why does it feel like we’re being punished?”
The silence between us roared with things unsaid, touches never made, and the kind of heat that could torch us both if we let it.
Mason took one more sip, then set his beer down. “I respect your father. But Cass, do you want me to stay away?”
I hesitated. Just long enough to find the most honest part of me.
“No.”
