RUSH

Ch. 25: A Rapture, Contained

-Bennett-

I silently cursed as Eric bolted out of the sauna, fretfully realizing I was being left to my own devices once again. My mind was already viciously whirling from our past interactions, Eric's sly remarks laced with a bit too much awareness for comfort. Thus, I was equally grateful and tense over his sudden departure, somewhat rattled even if he hadn't actually caused any issues.

At least I'd dragged myself back to reality.

The foolish notion that Eric might like me had lasted as long as it took for him to crack his first joke, which had unsurprisingly been about my obvious inability to stop shamelessly ogling Mason. And sure, I tried to play it off as my own paranoia at first, but then he flashed me a knowing smirk.

Suddenly, the floor was caving in beneath my feet.

I tried to deny it, of course. With words and facial expressions, and even tired groans of disagreement, But Eric didn't buy that at all. So, I almost expected myself to ease up once he finally left. To relax against the bench and let out the bated breath I'd been holding onto.

Instead, I looked up and met Mason's cold glare.

That was all it took, really.

A single inkling of irritation and I was restlessly glancing away, desperately evading his gaze. The panic started along with the shakiness of my hands, which I stiffly kept at my sides, and traveled throughout the rest of my body in shudders. And perhaps that would've been the worst of it, truly, if it wasn't for the fact that I was already overthinking.

Mason's stoic glare had a way of drawing out the most flustered parts of me... the nervous self-conscious part that typically tried to fill the awkward empty space with excuses and rambles, desperately pleading for approval.

Yet, in that moment, I couldn't come up with a single response.

"I'm sorry about him," Mason grumbled, glowering at the floor rather intently. "I know he can be a handful."

I shook my head, forcing a weak smile. "It's okay. He's pretty nice."

"Yeah..."

We just let the awkward silence settle over the small sauna after that. In that moment, I was more or less content with peering up at the ceiling, willfully ignoring the bouts of worry festering in the crevices of my mind. I didn't really know how to talk to him, much less how to act around him. It was infuriating, really, that I couldn't just relax. Or, perhaps, the issue was that I couldn't really look at him without feeling so flustered.

And the same question kept poking at me, each jab rougher than the last. There was no distraction that could halt my spiral now. I didn't even have my phone with me, or any real means of escape.

"Is it really okay?" I asked into the quiet room, and it sounded like a remorseful confession. "...if I go?"

Mason blinked, his dark brows furrowing further as he peered down at me. "Huh? You talking about Devon's party?

"Yeah, that..."

"Of course," Mason breathed out easily, his expression softening. "Why would you—?"

I didn't reply.

"Bennett," he called out, standing up when I quietly met his gaze, still not offering an answer.

My eyes widened with concern as he walked over, but I forced down the urge to bolt. Mason, possibly oblivious to my sheer frenzy, casually settled down beside me; he let out a deep sigh before leaning close, pressing our shoulders together. He glanced over at me nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just crowded onto my bench... into my space. "Bennett."