Sometimes Never (12 page)

             
Hope clears her throat. “Hey everyone,” she begins. Her voice trembles as she continues. “I had a lapse in judgment yesterday, so in retribution, I have to sing for Alec. I’m supposed to take requests, but since it’s his birthday, he gets to choose.” Her eyes move over the faces, seeking out her foster dad—uncle—whatever she calls him. She sees me then, her gaze pausing on me and she smiles before moving on. I can tell the moment she finds him. She tilts her head slightly and waits.

             
“The beautiful song,” Alec calls and Hope smiles widely.

             
Chase sets his bass down and hops off the stage throwing up his thumbs reassuringly. Guy switches out his electric guitar for an acoustic and heaves himself onto the folding chair. Hope puts the mic on the stand and lowers it between them.

             
Guy strums the strings as Hope’s voice fills the air.

             
“Pink lips, and rosy cheeks; eyes so light and hair that shines. They tell me that you’re beautiful.”

             
The way she sings it, soft and low, it’s something I’ll never forget, striking at my core, and changing something inside of me forever. My feet are moving me as if of their own accord. I drift forward, her voice compelling me closer. I can’t fathom why she doesn’t like to sing when she does it so well.

             
“Five foot nine, size two dress, bones protruding from your chest. They tell me that you’re beautiful.

             
“Inflated breasts, extended hair, pigment perfected. They tell me that you’re beautiful.”

             
Hope tips her head up, her eyes closed. The music grows faster, my heartbeat with it.

             
“Shape me, mold me, manufacture me, and tell me that I’m beautiful. Wax me, dye me, chop and dice me, and tell me that I’m beautiful. Choose me, use me, take me, break me, and tell me that I’m beautiful. Bleach it, cover it, go ahead and remove it.

“Erase all that
is beautiful.” She nearly shatters me with one song. Her words echo in my mind. When she opens her eyes, she stares at something only she can see.

“Starving, purging, implanting, and
medicating
. Erase all that is beautiful. Pretend,
ignore
,
deny
, ratify, inculcate. Tell me what is beautiful.

“Tell me. Tell me. Tell me what to be.

“Shape me, mold me, manufacture me, and tell me that I’m beautiful. Wax me, dye me,
chop and dice me
, and tell me that I’m
beautiful
. Choose me,
use me
, take me,
break me
, and tell me that I’m
beautiful
. Bleach it, cover it, go ahead and remove it.

“Break me. Break me.
Break me
to fit you.”

Guy strikes
the last chord. It thrums through the silence as Hope looks at me and whispers the last line.

“I don’t want to be
beautiful
.”

Everyone claps and Guy grins up at Hope proudly.

*******

             
I’m still star struck as the evening wears on. I try not to say much, but I tell her that they were great. I tell her that I loved her songs. I tell her how wonderful she plays the cello. I tell her she’s beautiful whether she wants to be or not. I finally shut up when Park makes his way over.

             
He hands Hope a bottle of water. “You better start drinking that now or you’ll end up hung over tomorrow,” he says.

             
I watch her carefully. She doesn’t seem drunk. Her voice isn’t slurred, she isn’t stumbling. I don’t even smell anything on her. She nods and takes the bottle.

             
“You want a shot?” Park asks me. I shake my head.

             
“No, man. I’m good. I’ve got my brother here.”

             
He looks back to Hope. “I got to get Jessie’s equipment back to him. I’ll be back later.” He touches his fingertips to hers and smiles. “You were awesome tonight.” His lips brush against hers and I turn my head. I don’t look back at her until I know he’s gone. When I do, she’s staring at me. I stare back.

             
“Blow bubbles,” Addie says, shoving a bright orange bottle at me. I look down at her and she takes a step back toward Hope as if she’s still unsure about me.

             
I accept the bottle and blow through the wand. Bubbles float in the air and Addie giggles. She and Hope race to catch them, so I blow more and more until my head is light. “I need a break,” I say rubbing my forehead.

             
“Mason’s about to pass out Addie,” Hope says. “Let’s give him a breather.”

             
“You blow,” Addie insists.

             
Chase laughs from his seat a few feet away, nearly choking on a piece of pizza. “Yeah, Hope. You blow,” he chuckles.

             
She rolls her eyes as she dunks the bubble wand into the bottle. “Just for a little bit, Add. There are perverts present.” She shoots a disgusted look at Chase, making him laugh louder. Addie eyes him seriously, tucking her streak of green hair behind her little ear.

             
“Chase is nice,” she declares.

             
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m nice.”

             
Hope licks her lips as they round in an O shape and she blows softly across the little plastic stick. It’s right about now that it occurs to me that I’m a pervert too, because this is hot. This whole night has been a slow death.

             
She looks over, and without taking her eyes off me, she hands the bottle to Addie. “All done. Go ask Chase to blow some for awhile since he’s so nice.” Taking my hand, she pulls me toward the house. We’re barely through the door when she turns to face me.

             
“Do you still want to kiss me?” Her voice is just above a whisper, her breathing accelerated.

             
Hell yes I do
. I nod, staring at her mouth. “More than ever.”

             
She looks up at me through her long dark lashes and I don’t think I can live another second not knowing how she tastes. “Then kiss me,” she murmurs.

14

Hope

Mason doesn’t hesitate. His hands slide up my neck, his fingers brushing gently over my jaw line. He cups my face and leans in. I close my eyes in anticipation.

             
“Have you been drinking?” he asks, his mouth so close to mine I can feel the warmth of his words.

             
I open my eyes and nod. “I had a few shots, but that was hours ago.”

             
“Are you drunk?”

             
“No,” I say firmly. I’m not. I’m feeling good, but I’m not at all drunk.

             
He smiles. “Good.”  His lips caress my jaw, he plants light kisses, moving toward my mouth.

             
“Hope—oh, hey,” Annie fumbles, her eyes wide, brows raised. Mason and I pull away from each other like we were doing something wrong. “Sorry. Mom sent me to get you. We’re doing the cake.” She gives me an apologizing look and mouths, “Oh, my God. Hot.”

             
I burst out laughing and Mason shifts beside me. “I will be right out,” I manage to say. He presses his head against my shoulder with a frustrated groan and I laugh harder. “Come on. I need some cake.”

             
He reaches out as I turn and glides his fingers across the back of my shoulder, over my tattoo. “Hey. A blackbird. That’s what I named you in my phone.”

             
I look up at him trying to determine if he’s joking. “What? Why?” I love that song. There was a time I honestly felt like it was written for me, but there’s no way he could know that. I’ve never told anyone how the lyrics touch me.

             
He smiles at me as he opens the door. “The first time I saw you, you were wearing that Beatles shirt with the blackbird. I think about that moment a lot, so I thought it fit.” He nods at me as I move past him. “And now that I see your tattoo, I think I made a good call.”

             
He grins at me proudly and I can’t help but smile back.

             
We make it just in time to sing Happy Birthday. Alec blows out his candles. Yes, Jenny put all forty candles on his cake. I let the birthday boy, and all the little kids get a piece of cake before I secure slices for me and Mason.

             
“Are you ever going to tell me what my name is?” Mason asks. He licks icing off his finger and I watch his movements carefully. My body is so aware of everything he does. Especially when it involves his tongue.

             
I pick up my plate and bite my lip, contemplating what I’m about to do. His green eyes meet mine and I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “My phone’s in my room,” I say slowly. I stand up and move in a determined line to the house, hoping he’s behind me. What if he thought I was just running in to grab it? What if he didn’t understand that I want him to come with me to the privacy of my room? What if he did get it? I don’t know which makes me more nervous.

             
The door closes behind me and I glance over my shoulder. Mason meets my gaze and for probably the first time since I’ve met him, he isn’t smiling. I feel my cheeks warm as I move up the stairs. In my room, I place my paper plate of cake on the desk and turn around to face him.

             
Mason’s eyes shift around the bedroom, moving slowly over my side. I turn the lock on the door. I don’t want Annie walking in on us again. The click causes him to turn his attention in my direction. He glances at the door knob then back to me. My stomach flutters and a chill skitters down my back.

             
I don’t move. I’m not sure I’m capable. “Kiss me,” I whisper.

             
His long legs have him across the room in front of me before I can even force myself to exhale. One of his hands touches my cheek, the other grasps my lower back, his fingers bunching the material of my dress. I look up at him and I have only a second to comprehend that I’m not scared. My heart is racing, my pulse pounding, my stomach is a mess of nervous excitement, but I’m not afraid of him. Then Mason’s mouth is on mine. My shoulders crash against the door as he presses into me.

             
His lips are surprisingly soft and warm as he uses them to part mine. I open my mouth for him and his tongue slides in slowly. I skim my hands up his arms and into his hair. His grip on my back tightens, pulling my body flush with his and he moans quietly. I feel the vibration on my lips and my whole body responds.

             
I don’t know what comes over me, but I like it. I push against him, guiding him backward until we fall across my bed, our lips separating only from the impact. I bring my legs up so I’m straddling his hips and he pulls my head back to him. I gasp as his fingers slide under my dress and sink into my thighs. I can’t believe I’m allowing him to touch me like this. I can’t believe I like it as much as I do. The way Mason makes me feel, the comfort I find in his warmth, it’s unnerving, but in this really great, crazy way. I know I’m risking everything. Taking the chance he’ll discover my secret.

             
Mason moves his mouth to my neck, his tongue sliding over the sensitive skin and he growls. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice husky. I love his voice. I move against him, setting off another moan and I like that I can do that to him. I like making him feel good and I decide he may very well be worth the risk.

             
We find our way back to each other’s mouths and as I run my tongue over his bottom lip, he smoothes his palms down my sides. He takes hold of my hips and now I moan as he presses against me.

             
With a groan, Mason breaks away gasping. “We need to stop,” he pants. “Or I’m going to take this too far.”

             
How far is too far? How far do I want this to go? I don’t know, but I don’t want to stop. Not yet. He feels too good to stop. Too right. I nod my head like I’m in agreement, but crush my entire body against his, embracing him as I caress his neck with kisses.

             
“Oh, my God,” he breathes. Then his hands are under my dress again, grazing the skin on my back. He pauses. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

             
“Hm-mm. Not with this dress.” He grunts and his hands clamp around my arms.

             
“I think we need to stop. Now. Because I’m nearing the point where I won’t care you have a yard full of party guests.”

             
I sit up, but I stay on his lap, looking down at him. His cheeks are pink, his hair messy. He’s adorable. I shake my head. “I trust you, Mason.” His eyes rake over me—my face, my body. “I trust you,” I whisper. The fact that I mean those words scares the hell out of me.