Chapter 18
Traitorous Jeans
(Olivia)
Waking up feels like trying to peel wallpaper off the wall. My eyes simply refuse to open when the morning sunlight attacks me from the window. Why are the curtains open, anyway? I always close them at night ever since I caught our neighbor, Timothy Dugger, staring at me one day. Intent on getting up, closing the curtains, and falling back into bed, I finally force my eyes open. The sight of navy blue curtains, instead of the deep purple ones in my room that block out light so well, freezes thought and movement alike.
The reason for why I’m so tired comes back to me when I realize my arm is draped across Mason’s chest. Even better, my head is on his shoulder with his arm around me and my leg is crossed over his, putting my knee in a very delicate place.
My first thought is to close my eyes and pretend I’m still asleep. My second, more realistic thought, is that if someone finds me in here, we are both going to be grounded for the rest of our lives. Self-preservation beats out self-indulgence. It kills me to do it, but I wriggle out of Mason’s arms and make a break for the hallway.
I feel like I just ran a marathon as I pull the door closed behind me. My eyes dart up and down the hallway. It’s a miracle that it’s empty at this time of day. Usually everyone is scurrying around getting ready for work and school. I’m halfway down the stairs before I remember Dad is out of town until late tonight. That takes care of one person.
One look at the old pendulum clock hanging in the hallway tells me it’s barely six in the morning. That takes care of Evie, who never crawls out of bed a minute before she has to. Mom is always up at the crack of dawn, so it’s not surprising when I stumble into the kitchen and am welcomed by eggs and pancakes.
“You’re up early,” she says with a smile.
“Long night,” I grumble.
Mom puts an arm around my shoulder. “Mason’s nightmares again?” When I nod, she frowns. “I really wish you’d come and get one of us. You shouldn’t have to deal with that every time.”
I nearly choke on my orange juice at her suggestion. She looks over at me curiously. “It’s fine,” I say after a coughing fit. “I don’t mind handling it.”
If she has the same doubts Dad does about Mason and I—which apparently are well grounded—she doesn’t express them. She only smiles and goes back to flipping pancakes. Fifteen blessedly quiet minutes later, Evie ruins the moment when she plops into the chair next to me, looking like she rolled down the stairs.
I doubt I look much better, though, so I save any snappy comments for later. If only my dear sister would be so kind.
“Are those Mason’s pants?” she asks through sleepy eyes.
The spatula Mom was just holding clatters to the pan. She picks it back up quickly, but I can tell from the tension in her shoulders that she’s listening very closely.
“I borrowed them. So what?” I ask, glaring at Evie.
“Why? They’re way too big.”
“I couldn’t find mine.”
Evie looks over at me, no longer half asleep. “Not a single pair?”
As a smile creeps onto her face, I have no doubt her big mouth is about to get me in serious trouble. So I run. I push away from the table and my half-eaten breakfast, all but running for the stairs. I am cursing Evie as I grab for the bathroom door knob. One quick twist and the hope of a few minutes alone evaporates at the sight of Mason.
Standing in the middle of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, one hand on the door knob as if he were in the middle of opening it, he stares at me looking as caught off guard as I feel.
“Mason, I…I’m sorry, I…”
Red as a cherry tomato, I turn for the door. Mason is faster, pushing it closed before I can escape. I spin around as if caught in a trap. My heart rate spikes at the sight of him only inches away from me. I stumble back against the counter.
“You were gone when I woke up,” Mason says softly.
I try to say something, I do. I can’t stop hyperventilating long enough to form an actual word. My fingers begin strangling the lip of the counter out of fear that I might faint. I don’t know what to do when Mason’s hands slide over my cheeks. His fingertips brush my eyelids, closing them with a feather touch. His breath washes over my skin softly. Slowly, my own breathing calms to match his.
“Why did you leave?” he asks.
“Someone might have seen me.” Do I really have to explain that? Dad would freak out!
Mason’s fingers slide up over my cheeks to nestle in my hair, opening my eyes as they go. The smile on his face is like nothing I have ever seen on him before. Mischievous, eager…my breathing stutters…sexy and full of desire.
“So what if they saw you. Blame it on my nightmares. No one would doubt you, and it wouldn’t be a lie,” Mason says as he closes a little more of the distance between us.
“They would doubt if they saw how we were laying,” I mutter.
Mason’s hearing is too good to miss it. His lips curve up a little more and I add devilish to the list. “You’re the only one that can see me. To anyone else it would just look like you were sprawled out awkwardly.”
I try not to admit he’s right, but I can’t lie to myself. No one would have realized. I panicked and ran. That’s why I really left.
“Mason, I don’t know what’s happening,” I say in a moment of complete honesty.
His grin turns suddenly serious. “What do you think is happening?”
My mouth opens. It closes. My eyes close, just to pretend for a moment this isn’t happening. I open them again and truly see Mason. Not only is he absolutely gorgeous, he is the best friend I have always treasured, the companion I want to share my life with, the one person I would trust with every secret, my first and last thought, the man I am undeniably in love with.
“You’re not my brother,” I whisper.
Mason’s entire being lights up. “I’m so glad you finally realized that.”
He leans in before I can think to do anything at all, crushing his lips against mine, spilling out love and passion like I have never experienced. My hands reach up to his neck, pulling him to me hungrily. Mason groans and yanks me away from the counter to press against his chest. His lips drink mine in as if he needs me to live. My body sinks against his in complete surrender.
Thought completely disappears from my mind until the bathroom door cracks into the back of my head. “Olivia,” Evie snaps, “why are you standing right in front of the door?”
Her eyes widen as she stares at us…well, at me. I must look completely crazy with my arms seemingly sticking out strangely, pressed up against an invisible wall. I hastily yank myself away from Mason, but the damage is already done. Evie’s hand slaps over her mouth.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” She laughs and reaches out a hand to locate Mason. She isn’t disappointed. “This is so awesome! Dad’s totally going to kill you both, though.”
“Shut up, Evie,” I snap. Spinning away from her, I shove the door against her.
Mason grabs my arm before I can escape. “Your jeans are still in my room. I didn’t think to grab them before.”
I’m thankful for the warning, knowing that if Mom tries to straighten up and finds them in there, we’ll have to face a whole slew of inquisition-like questions.
“No!” Evie says with bulging eyes.
It’s only then that both Mason and I realize Evie was still touching his arm and heard what he just said. Mason shakes her off and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Furious at Evie, I snap, “That’s not what happened.”
“Sure,” Evie drawls.
“It’s not,” Mason says evenly.
“Don’t say a word about this,” I say to them both. Red with embarrassment, I slam the door behind me and go off in search of my traitorous jeans.