He looks at my face and laughs at my reaction, eyes bright. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I brush my hair off my face, avoiding looking right at him. I still can’t face him, not completely. “It’s fine. I thought everyone went off to bed.”
“I was, but I heard you makin’ so much noise I had to see what was going on. Sounded like you were skippin’ rope or havin’ a dance party with no music.”
I look back at the top of the fridge, Noah’s shirt at the very back, taunting me. Mason follows my gaze, a smile breaking out when he realizes the current situation.
“You know, you could’ve just gotten a chair—”
“I don’t need a chair! I can do it myself.” I narrow my eyes at the stupid white shirt, mocking me for my shortness.
“Wow. Good to know drunk k-bear is competitive.”
With squared shoulders, I focus my full attention on the shirt. When I jump for it again, big hands land on my waist, lifting me up higher so I can reach the back of the fridge. I snatch the shirt and Mason lowers me back to the floor.
“Yes! Stupid shirt. I win!” I feel like whipping it onto the floor like it’s a football and I just scored a touchdown.
“Technically, I win, because without me you wouldn’t’ve gotten the shirt,” Mason slurs with a smile, still buzzed from the game.
“Whatever. I’ve still got the shirt in my hand.” I turn around to literally rub my prize in his face.
He laughs, and it’s then I realize his hands are still on my waist as they tighten, pulling me closer to him, unconsciously, I think. There’s a sudden palpable shift in the room. It was light, airy, and fun, but now it’s serious, almost suffocating me with the intensity. My eyes widen as I end up chest to chest with Mason, who’s looking down at me and smiling like I’m the most interesting girl in the world.
I clear my throat and try taking a step back. “Um, might wanna let go now, Mason.”
He looks at me as if in a daze. “What?”
“She said let go,” a harsh voice says from behind us, cutting through the room with undeniable authority.
At the sound of Aiden’s deep voice, Mason shakes his head and drops his hands like I’ve physically burned him.
“Oh, umm, sorry. Dazed off there for a bit.” He laughs forcibly, almost awkwardly.
“It’s okay.” I smile at him reassuringly as Aiden crosses the room in a few big strides.
Once he reaches me, he grabs my hand, possessively intertwining his fingers with mine, his eyes shooting daggers at Mason.
“We’ll all help finish cleaning up tomorrow morning. Let’s get some sleep.”
Before I can even reply, he tugs me toward his room, throwing a “good night” to Mason over his shoulder, as if an afterthought.
He leads me into his room and closes the door behind me, the muscles in his back tense.
“What was that about?” I ask him.
He turns to look at me, his face blank, but his still tense back giving him away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The whole possessive caveman act back there? And during king’s cup?”
Aiden never acts all jealous and possessive like this. Sometimes I know he is, but it’s usually cute and endearing, not all must horde the shiny object so no one else can see it possessive.
He rolls his eyes. “I am not a caveman.”
“You know what I mean. What’s going on with you?” I realize I’m still clutching Noah’s shirt, and toss it haphazardly somewhere on the floor, the previous significance of it having completely vanished.
“Nothing’s going on with me.” He’s careful to keep his face neutral, his eyes devoid of any discernable emotion. He’s good at doing that, but he usually doesn’t guard his emotions with me. I don’t like the distant way this makes me feel.
I sit cross-legged on his bed, and he leans against the door, arms tight across his chest, almost in defense.