Sometimes Never (25 page)

             
“That I like this. You. Being with you.”

             
He grins widely and I feel so warm, in a good way. Have I been walking around cold inside this whole time?

             
“I like it too.” His expression clouds for a moment, his eyes seeming to look through me for a just a second. Blinking several times, he focuses on me and his next smile is off. As his eyes dart over my face, he squeezes my waist. He looks…anxious. His heart thundering under my palm verifies it.

             
“What?” I ask slowly, suddenly scared.

             
“Are you all right? I mean, this,” he lifts his arms, indicating us in the bed. “It didn’t…bring up memories or… You aren’t going to…” He rubs one hand over his face and closes his eyes tightly.

             
“Am I going to cut myself? Am I thinking about—
him
?” I sit up quickly and grope the floor for my clothes awkwardly. Who does that? Why? Why would he go there? Why would he summon the memories knowing how awful they are? My stomach churns.

             
Mason grabs my hand, but I jerk away from his touch. “Whoa. Hey. Hope, calm down. I’m sorry.” He goes for my hand again and I slap his wrist away. I can’t be touched right now. His brows merge and his teeth grind out a sound that makes me cringe. “It’s a legitimate question. I want to know you’re okay. If you freak out and regret this,” he shakes his head, jaw working, “regret
us
, it’ll crush me. Just tell me how you feel right now.” He stands and shoves his legs into his pants, not bothering to button them.

             
I get my shirt adjusted before I respond, needing the layer of protection. My hands shake as I push them through my hair, yanking until I can breathe easier. “I was fine. I was happy. Then you go and
ruin it
. Why would you bring
him
up right after we have sex? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want me to think of him every time we’re together?”

             
Mason glares at me and I flinch away from his anger. “Of course I don’t want you to think of that piece of shit when you’re making love to me. Jesus. I was worried it might have brought up the memories because—because…similar—because we had sex.”

             
“Nothing about this is similar to Andy you dumb asshole. He is a pedophile. I didn’t care about him. I didn’t want what he did to me. I wanted you, Mason. There is a huge difference. I never—he didn’t… You are the only one that I’ve done this with. My mind was so far away from that shit until you went and brought it up.” I slam my fist down on my thigh as hard as I can, trying desperately to erase Andy’s face from my mind. I should never have talked about him. It’s too fresh. Too raw. I just want it to go away. I want a razor so badly. I need it.
Shit. Shit. Shit
.

             
I get my shorts on and spin, looking for my shoes. I find one, slip my foot in, and drop to the floor on my hands and knees. I need to get out of here.
Where the hell is my other shoe?
Flipping the blanket away, I search under the bed.

             
“Hope? Calm down,” Mason murmurs. His hand brushes my arm and I jump back, smacking my back against his dresser. One of the knobs digs into my spine, setting off a shooting pain. I take a deep breath, sighing. Papers flutter around me. Something rolls off the dresser, thudding loudly on the floor. I do it again, this time on purpose. The sensation so satisfying, I do it again.

             
Mason wrenches me away from the dresser, his hands forming vice grips around my wrists. He shakes me once. I look up into his daunted eyes. “Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t.” Strong arms enclose me in a hug. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

             
Something hot slides down my cheeks. Am I crying? I didn’t realize. My back is so sore. “It wasn’t just once,” I mumble into his collar bone. “He did it for months. I tried to stop him after that first night. I tried to fight him. Tried. And tried. And tried. Until I quit trying. I hated him. I hate him. You are nothing like him. Don’t ever bring him up again. Don’t ever do that to me again. Don’t ask about him again. Don’t ever.”

             
He shakes his head. “I won’t. I swear. Never again.”

             
“I can’t find my shoe,” I say gravelly.

             
He leans around me and comes back with it in hand. “Let me see your back.”

             
I gently pry my shoe from his hand and turn around. He lifts the back of my shirt and inhales through his teeth. “Jesus Christ.” I stand up quickly, pulling my shirt into place. “FUCK!” I jump at his outburst, my eyes refusing to meet his. Mason punches the dresser, rocking it back and sending more papers and other miscellaneous items flying. I jump again and take a step away from him.

             
His gaze is burning into me and I finally meet it reluctantly. Immediately wishing I hadn’t because there it is. The horror. The repulsion. The regret. My feet move of their own volition, backing me up until I can’t go any further. Mason moves to stand in front of me, blocking me with his body.

             
“I won’t let you do this to yourself anymore. I said I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again and I was serious. That means you too.” The determination on his face makes me swallow my retort. “I know this is my fault. I shouldn’t have said that. I hate myself right now and I can’t explain how sorry I am.” There are those magic words yet again. He closes his eyes and brings his mouth to mine, hovering just a breath away. “I want to make it go away.
I
want to make you forget.
I
want to make you feel better.” I want that too. His tongue traces my bottom lip and I open my mouth for him, letting my eyes shutter. I need this. I need to feel Mason. To know it’s him and me. As the kiss deepens, he twists his fingers into my hair, tugging it in a way that makes my knees go weak. Working through my hair, he grazes his palms down agonizingly slowly, applying a perfect amount of pressure. He’s just on the edge of hurting me. Drifting along the line between pleasure and pain. Something I’m overly familiar with. His touch is rough, but sensual.

             
I gasp as he drives his fingers into my hips, nails digging into my flesh. His teeth nip my lip, my tongue, and I moan loudly as I grab onto him. He turns us around quickly, walking me backwards and bending me onto his bed. I watch in dazed captivation as he peels my clothes away and moves his lips over my body, his teeth biting gently at all the right places.

             
I expect him to remove his own clothes, to make love to me again, but he doesn’t. He captures me with his ravenous gaze as his fingers work me into a frenzy. I bite my lip to keep from screaming and Mason presses his mouth firmly to mine as his fingers press against me, releasing an explosion of ecstasy throughout my body. It’s over quickly, but little pulses tingle throughout me and I loosen my grip on him, suddenly very tired. Sated.

             
His kiss softens, turning tender and it finally clicks what he did for me. He pulls away enough to look at me. “Your back is bleeding,” he says gruffly. “We should clean it up.”

~***~

             
I take my seat in Biology, ignoring the irritated glares from Carly I’ve been receiving all week, and pull out my notebook. I know the moment Mason comes in because Carly turns in her seat, facing the chair to her left. I look up just as he leans down. He kisses me, a soft brush of lips, but it lingers. He pulls away slowly and produces a package of Twizzlers from behind his back.

             
The corners of my mouth turn up as I take them. “Thanks,” I say. He grins and dips his head with one nod before dropping into his chair. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I wiggle it out to look at the screen.

             
“Why doesn’t Guy have a nickname?” Mason asks, his lips pouting out in confusion.

             
“’Cause he’s Guy,” I say. I press the button and try to hide my cell underneath my hair. “Why are you calling me during school?”

             
Guy sighs. “Obviously because it’s important. We got offered two hundred bucks to play Warren Grant’s party Saturday.”

             
“Warren Grant can’t afford two hundred bucks. He spends all his money on
herbs
.”

             
“His stepdad is paying. Guess the dude’s loaded and sucking up to Warren, trying to bond or some dumb shit like that. The point is that’s like… How much is that a person?”

             
“Fifty,” I sigh.

             
“Exactly. Fifty bucks a person. We all need the money. Plus, it’s Warren Grant’s party. Everybody will be there. We could develop a whole new following.”

             
Mason raises his brows, only getting half the conversation and apparently curious about the other half.
Nosy
. “Yeah, everyone will be there,” I mutter. “Warren hangs with all the
assholes
in this school.” I look pointedly at Carly as she glowers at me.

             
“It’ll be good for the band,” Guy whines.

             
I turn sideways in my seat, away from Mason. “Is there still a band? I had a pretty unpleasant conversation with Park last night. He’s pissed. Like, seriously pissed.”

             
“How pissed is seriously pissed, exactly?”

             
“Shut up. Talk to Park and Chase and get back to me.”

             
“Already did. They’re all for it. Park just has one condition,” Guy says quickly.

             
I freeze. “What is the condition?”

             
He clears his throat and I know he’s uncomfortable relaying this information. “No Mason.” Something flutters in my stomach and I feel like I could throw up. I don’t like that sentence one bit.

             
“What does that mean? Like at all, or during the party?” I glance at Mason. He’s watching me closely, an obvious annoyed expression plastered across his face. I frown at him. He couldn’t have heard Guy. Could he?

             
“During the party.” Not that it really matters because my answer would be the same either way.

             
“No.”

             
“Come on, Hope. I know it’s stupid and he has no right to be a prick, but it’s the only way he’ll do it. We need this.”

             
“No. Goodbye.” I end the call and shove my phone back into my pocket. There’s no point arguing about this. I will not give Mason up, even for one night.

             
“When did you talk to Park?” Mason asks immediately.

             
“Last night,” I say trying to understand where his clipped tone is coming from. “Why?”

             
He leans on my table, hugging his elbows. “Before or after you came to my house?”

             
“Before. Again, why?”

             
“Well, gee, I don’t know, Hope.” He leans closer, dropping his voice. “Maybe I’m just curious if my girlfriend was talking to her ex-boyfriend before or after we had sex for the first time.”

             
Oh.
“Okay. One, I can talk to whoever I want. Park’s been my friend for a long time and just because I’m pissed at him doesn’t mean he doesn’t matter to me anymore. Two, he’s not my ex-boyfriend and you know that. And three, he is the lead singer of the band I’m in. We are going to see and speak to each other a lot.”

             
“All right. Fine. But you could have mentioned it to me.” He pulls back, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looks at me expectantly.

             
“Really? I need to give you a detailed summary of every conversation I have with Park? Or does it even stop there? Do you want a report when I talk to Guy and Chase too?”

             
“No. Just Park. And just the general idea.”

             
He’s serious. Is this normal? I honestly don’t know. I never did this whole boyfriend thing before. Park never cared who I talked to. Of course, I never really talked to anyone.
Damn it
.

             
I raise a brow and purse my lips. “Fine. Annie said he didn’t think you and I would last. He was waiting for you to get tired of my lack of commitment. I set him straight. He didn’t take it well. Happy?”

             
Mason’s lips twitch like he wants to smile, but thinks better of it at the last second. “Yes. Thank you.” He stops fighting it, freeing the dimpled grin. “So what’s going on?” He gestures at me, indicating my phone call with Guy, I assume.