The peaceful look on his face doesn’t mask the restlessness in his voice. The tension crusting his words. I hear it. He worries I’m still unsure, or maybe that I’m slowly backing off and changing my mind, but I’m not.
And I hate that his brain automatically goes to that place.
“No. No if’s. We’re doing it.” I move across the room and climb onto the bed, kneeling beside him. I snag a grape off the plate. “Don’t tell Joey because he’ll never shut up about it, but he was right.” I shrug. “I want to keep you.”
The biggest, most contented smile pulls across Mason’s face.
I laugh around my grape.
God, he’s adorable.
“Say that again.”
I lean forward and kiss his mouth. “I want to keep you.”
“Mm.”
“And I really, really want to suck your massive cock.”
He moans, sliding his hand to my neck. “Jesus. You just got me real fucking hard, Brooke.”
“But, I want to eat first.”
I jerk away, smiling at the look on Mason’s face. The heaviness in his eyes and the slack in his jaw.
I pop a cube of cheese into my mouth and gesture at his crotch. “Let me know if things become painful for you. I can eat fast when motivated.”
He presses a hand against the sheet. “Fuck. My balls. What’s wrong with you?”
Throwing my head back, I laugh and then squeak when he squeezes my side. “Oh, my God. Do you hate me? I’m sorry. I’m just so hungry right now. Here.” I feed him a grape. He begrudgingly takes it. “Eat up. Your balls will be fine.”
Grabbing my wrist, he presses a kiss to my palm. “Let’s hope.”
We eat the food he’s set out for us, pulling another bunch of grapes out of the fridge when we run out. Mason laughs when I make a pile for myself on the plate, stealing all the cheddar cubes and leaving him with the remaining raisins.
“I don’t eat those,” I tell him. “Unless they’re covered in chocolate.”
“Kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”
I struggle to contain my amusement. “Oh, God. You were that kid at the birthday parties who hovered over the veggie tray, weren’t you? Trying to get your little mates to eat carrots instead of chips and cookies. Bless you. Were you bullied, sweet boy?”
He pulls me against him and tickles my side until my eyes water and I cry out for mercy. He kisses my cheek and steals a cheese cube, grinning.
I grab a water for us to share and return to the bed.
“So, that class tonight. Have you taught something like that before?” I ask, washing down my grape.
“No, but I’ve wanted to. My sister, Ellie has Down Syndrome. She’s the reason I got started in yoga.”
I lower the bottle to my lap, searching my memory for the information Mason’s already given me on his family.
Seven sisters. Mason being the baby of the group.
I know he’s mentioned Ellie. I remember her name, but he’s never told me much more than the fact that he’s close with her.
“I’ve never met anyone . . .” I pause, considering my wording. “With that before. How is she?” I shake my head, my hand covering half my face.
Christ, she isn’t sick, Brooke.
“Sorry. I don’t know a lot about that.”
His face softens with a gentle smile. “She’s good. Really good. She lives close to my parents’ house with a few roommates. That way she has her support, but also her independence. It’s good for her. My mum drove her a little nuts, I think.”
“Mums can do that,” I chuckle, offering him the water after he sets the empty plate on the night stand. “How did Ellie get you interested in yoga? Does she do it too?”
“She did. Once.” He takes a sip of the water, making a face. “Not really her thing. But, when she wanted to try it out, I gave her a lift to the studio. She didn’t have her license.”
“That was your first class too?”
“I just watched. It was for people with disabilities. But I signed up for my own class the next day.”
“How old were you?”
“Eighteen.”
I smile, thinking about a younger version of the man I’m staring at. A sweet boy helping his sister, and in the process, discovering a passion that would lead to a career.
I imagine Mason’s face as he takes on the role of spectator, watching a class like the ones he teaches from a perch on the wall. His blue eyes magnetic, engrossed in the movement and discipline of the instructor. Soaking it all in and connecting with it.
“I think it’s really great, what you did. Amazing, actually.” I kiss his jaw and fall back onto the bed, my head hitting the pillow. “Does Ellie like cupcakes? Or does she eat like a caveman too?”
He smiles, capping the water and tossing it. “She loves cupcakes.”
“Mm.”
Maybe if we ever visit Australia together, I can make her some.
“So, speaking of sisters, Juls is having me over for dinner Friday night. Do you want to go with me? It could be our official coming out as a couple debut, or whatever. If you’re busy, that’s okay. It isn’t a big deal or anything. It’s just dinner.”
I stare at my fingers as they twist together on my stomach.
Way to play down your looming sadness, Brooke.
Geez. Why do I already feel disappointed? As if the possibility of Mason having other plans that don’t involve me is too depressing to even consider. We don’t have to spend every weekend together. He’s allowed to have a life without me. Visit his own family without me . . .