A Thousand Storms

06 villain

And damn, was he a sight to see. Cleanly shaven and dark hair styled back, his grey eyes were more prominent than ever.

Donning a loose white dress shirt and black jeans, he tucked his hands in his pockets and smiled at me. I got a whiff of that cologne he wore.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Thank you," I faltered, cheeks lighting up. "Where are we going?"

Caleb lifted his brows. "Do you like dancing?"

"Yeah, I do," I said.

He smiled. "Great," he said, and held out a hand for me.

A fancy watch was secured around his wrist, I noticed, when I took his hand. His skin was smooth and cold. I thought of Mason's scarred hand—the exact opposite.

Why was I thinking about him? I inwardly chastised myself for it.

Suddenly, I was staring into dark brown eyes.

Mason was standing right in front of us.

His hair was ruffled, and the black shirt he had on stuck to his skin in places, hinting at the body I'd seen the other day.

I blinked, considering rubbing my eyes or pinching myself. But when I opened my eyes he was still there, with that perpetual frown on his face.

He stared between Caleb and I, surprise bouncing in his eyes. His gaze dropped to our joined hands. His features retracted immediately, replaced with a sheet of blank. Caleb turned, noticing him too.

"Funny seeing you here, brother," Mason quipped. His eyes never left mine.

"Brother?" I blurted, glancing sideways at Caleb.

"Mason," Caleb said, and I could sense the surprise in his voice too. He didn't know where his own brother lived? I reminded myself not to judge too quickly.

"You two are neighbours," Caleb stated, with a piqued interest. "I guess you've already met Ever?"

Mason tore his gaze from me to scowl at his brother. "Of course," he said, his tone saccharine. "She made herself noticed."

Again, Mason's dark brown eyes returned to me, this time sweeping over my figure. He returned to my line of sight, then offered me a smirk I knew meant nothing kind.

Still, I returned the gesture with a small smile, only for the four jars of peanut butter I knew could only have been from him. I'd never properly thanked him for it—making my debt to him even greater.

"Try playing your music a little softer next time, yeah?" Mason said to me.

Thanks, Rhia. And Taylor Swift.

"I—"

"I'll have them fit in a soundproof system," Caleb answered for me. He winked at me reassuringly.

I looked up at him with a small smile, and even in my 5 inch heels, he was taller than me.

Not taller than Mason, though, who was staring at him with fuming eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Of course," Mason quipped, folding his hands across his chest. "Good old Caleb to the rescue with his heroic acts of kindness. Swipe your card and everything's fixed, right? I suppose you shit gold, too?"

I stared in surprise at him, but at this point, I wasn't sure what I expected, really. Mason had barely given me a reason to believe he wasn't a giant jerk.

The Mason that left those jars of peanut butter outside my room...I saw none of him in the Mason standing in front of me—and some part of me hurt.