Mason (Trinity Academy Book 2) Page 5

  “I get jumped by a sleeping madwoman, and you’re both laughing your asses off. I see how it is.”

  I struggle to keep a straight face as Lake slides to the floor, holding onto Falcon’s leg while he almost pisses himself cracking up.

  Falcon has to brace his hands on his knees, so he doesn’t go down, his shoulders shaking.

  Giving up, I smile because even though they’re laughing at my expense, there’s nothing as good in the world as seeing my friends happy.

  Laying in bed, with my hands tucked behind my head, I stare up at the dark ceiling.

  Lake’s out in the living room, and for what has to be the hundredth time, he begins to whistle the fucking wedding march.

  “Lake!” I shout.

  It’s silent for a couple of seconds then the fucker starts again. I let out a growl as I throw the covers back, and grabbing my pillow, I dart out of bed. Yanking my door open, I run to where Lake’s lying on the couch, and it has the fucker squeaking like a girl. “Shit!” He shoots up and over the back of the couch.

  When I catch up to him, he sinks to the floor, and I smack the shit out of him with the pillow.

  “Ah-hh-hh-hh!” he yells while laughing at the same time.

  “You’re seriously having a pillow fight?” Falcon asks from where he’s leaning against the door jamb of his bedroom.

  “No, save me,” Lake wheezes through the laughter.

  “From what?” I ask. “It’s a goose down pillow. The shit is softer than a newborn baby’s ass.”

  “Soft like Kingsley’s lips?” Lake asks as he crawls away.

  I throw the pillow against his back.

  “Lake,” Falcon says, his voice surprisingly serious, “give Mason a break.”

  Lake gets up, nodding as if his father just scolded him. He even has the fucking innocent look plastered over his face.

  Falcon continues with the same serious tone, “He hasn’t been with a woman in… what? Three months?”

  Lake’s face begins to turn red from keeping in his laugher as he keeps nodding. “It’s a new record. I can understand why he’s shocked by a kiss.”

  I walk up to Lake and slap him upside the head before I make my way to Falcon, but the fucker darts back into his room and slams the door shut.

  Behind me, Lake begins to whistle the fucking tune again, and as I turn around to him, he runs for his room. A second later, the door slams shut behind his ass.

  “That’s it. I’m getting my own place,” I yell and walking over to my pillow, I pick it up.

  “You love me too much,” Lake yells from behind the safety of his door.

  “You can’t live without us,” Falcon joins in.

  “Fuckers,” I grumble with a wide smile on my face.

  But they’re both right. I love them, and I can’t live without them.

  Classes have started again and sitting in the restaurant, I watch Lake gorge down a bigass lobster.

  “You know Lobsters are arthropods, right?”

  Lake swallows the bite he took, and cracking the lobster’s shell open, says, “Don’t care.”

  Pulling up an image of arthropods on my phone, I hold it up to Lake while pointing at the screen. “Lobster equals this shit.”

  Lake’s eyes dart up, and when he focuses on the picture, he drops the tail. “Aww… fuck. You just killed lobster for me.”

  I grin at him. “Revenge for last night.” Having succeeded in my mission, I get up and walk away while whistling the wedding march that’s been stuck in my fucking head all morning.

  “Who’s getting married?” Serena asks while she gathers her books and gets up from a nearby table.

  Not being able to resist the opportunity, I taunt her, “Not you, that’s for sure.”

  West comes to stand behind Serena and fuck, it actually turns my stomach seeing the two leeches together.

  “You know who else isn’t getting married?” West asks.

  Don’t fucking go there.

  Our eyes lock and the hatred I feel for the fucker rushes through my body. I close my hands into tight fists at my sides, so I don’t fucking kill him right here.

  West walks closer, stupidly putting himself between me and the exit. He begins to grin, and the students must feel the tension because they clear the area around us.

  The fucker must have a thing for pain. He’s much shorter than me and has never won a fight between us, yet the idiot keeps coming back.

  “Just leave, West,” Lake says as he comes to stand next to me.

  “Why?” West gives Lake a smug look which has me narrowing my eyes. When the fucker takes a step closer to Lake and then dares to shove his finger at Lake’s chest, rage explodes behind my eyes.

  “You’re no –” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence as I grab hold of his shirt and yank him away from Lake, and out of the restaurant. The second we’re outside, my fist connects with his jaw. I feel the hedonistic satisfaction, I can only get from beating the life out of this piece of shit, begin to course through my veins.

  “Don’t ever fucking touch Lake,” I growl as I repeatedly slam my fist into his face.

  I pull my arm back, but then West chuckles while he brings a hand to his nose. Wiping his fingers through the blood, he chuckles again, but the sound is hollow and bleak.

  “There must’ve been a lot of blood when the branch skewered your arm to her.” A guilt-ridden expression flashes over his face before it’s replaced by the usual look of smugness.

  My entire body begins to shake as haunting memories of that night flood me all at once.

  Her cheek is resting on the branch as if she just leaned forward and decided to fall asleep.

  Blood trickles from her mouth, and I hear the gurgling sound again.

  “Jen!”

  I’m stopped by the branch pinning me to her chest.

  She gasps for air.

  “Jennifer!”

  Chapter 8

  Kingsley

  “Layla!” I point a finger to where Mason is punching the shit out of West.

  “Crap, I’ll go get Falcon,” she says and then runs toward the dorms.

  I jog closer to the fight, not having any idea of what to do.

  “There must’ve been a lot of blood when the branch skewered your arm to her.”

  The words shudder through me and fill me with shock, bringing me to a stop slightly to the right side of West.

  My eyes dart to Mason, and his face is set in hard lines, his body shaking, and it’s then I realize what Mason looks like when he’s angry.

  He looks like thunder.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Mason growls, and I let out a shriek when his fist connects with West’s face.

  Lake tries to intervene, but Mason glares at him like a raging maniac, “Stay the fuck back!”

  This is bad.

  I glance over my shoulder to see if Falcon is coming, and when there’s no sight of him, I tighten my hands at my sides, anxiety making me feel jittery.

  “You don’t get to talk about my sister.” Mason’s breaths become harsh gasps, and he doesn’t stop punching West.

  Falcon suddenly runs up to the fight, and he darts between them. He shoves West hard, and my eyes only have time to widen before West crashes into me.

  I go down with a shriek as West falls over me, and something hard connects with my mouth. I freeze from the jolting pain, shutting my eyes tightly.

  When a copper taste fills my mouth, I shove West off of me and dart up. I spit and almost gag. “Eww… I got his blood in my mouth.”

  Layla rushes to me, and using the sleeve of her sweater, she wipes over my mouth, but it has me flinching away.

  “Crap, Kingsley,” she gasps. “It’s your own blood.”

  “It is?” I frown and brushing my thumb over my lip, I flinch again. “Ugh, it is.”

  “Are you okay?” Lake asks as he places a hand on my shoulder, leaning a little down to see my face.

  “I’m okay.” I feel blood dribble do
wn to my chin, and quickly cover my mouth so I won’t bleed all over the place. “I’m going to clean up,” I mumble behind my hand and begin to walk toward my dorm.

  Seconds later, I hear Layla say, “I’ll take care of her.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I see Mason stalking after me. He catches up and darts in front of me. Grabbing my shoulders, he snaps, “Let me see.”

  “It’s nothing,” I argue not moving my hand.

  I swear I hear him growl as he grabs hold of my wrist, yanking my hand away.

  His eyes land sharply on the cut, and when the blood trickles all the way to the bottom of my chin, he reaches up with his other hand and wipes the blood away. He rubs it off on his jacket, which makes my eyes bulge with surprise, and without another word, he begins to drag me toward The Hope Diamond.

  “I’m okay.” I pull back against his hold, but Mason just ignores me and drags me all the way to the elevator.

  A drop of blood splats on the clean floor, and I quickly cover my chin and bottom lip with my free hand, so I don’t end up leaving a trail.

  Mason presses the button, still not letting go of my wrist and when the doors ping open, he yanks me inside. I catch myself from stumbling into him.

  Mason leans past me and presses the number for the top floor, and pulling back, his eyes land on my face. He finally lets go of my wrist and shrugs out of his jacket. Shoving my hand away, he almost freaking smothers me when he presses his jacket to my mouth.

  “Can’t breathe,” I mumble, glaring at him.

  “Just hold the fucking thing there,” he snaps angrily.

  I take hold of it, moving it a little down.

  The doors open and Mason grabs my left arm, dragging me again.

  “Hey!” I snap, but the stupid jacket muffles it.

  He doesn’t stop once he’s inside, but instead, stalks toward a bedroom, and right through it to the bathroom. My eyes dart curiously around the room, but the place is pristine, unlike my own.

  In the bathroom, Mason lets go of my arm, then grabs my hips, and I let out a squeak when he lifts me, setting me down on the counter next to the sink.

  He leans into the shower and grabs a face cloth, then wets it and washes his hands at the same time. Impatiently he shoves my legs open so he can step into the open space.

  Ahhhh… My brain hums with surprise, unable to think of a suitable reaction. All I can do is blink from all the manhandling.

  Mason begins to dab at the cut, and I flinch back from the sting. “Dude… it hurts.”

  He takes hold of my chin and keeping me still, continues to dab at the cut, but at least it’s softer this time. He cleans the blood from my chin, then reaches up to the cabinet against the wall, totally leaning into me.

  With the extreme close up view of his chest, all I can do is stare like an idiot. His spicy scent wafts up my nose, and it makes me lose my mind for a moment.

  “Love the aftershave.”

  Mason pulls back and sets a small first aid kit down next to me. His head is bowed as he looks for whatever he needs, and my eyes glide over the sharp lines of his jaw, which is covered in a light dusting of stubble.

  “Are you taking a break from shaving?” I ask.

  “Shut up, Hunt,” he growls low.

  He takes out an alcohol swab and brings it to my face.

  I yank back. “It stings.”

  His left-hand shoots behind my neck, and with a tight grip, he forces me to keep still.

  As he begins to clean the cut, my eyes start to water from the sharp smell. It burns the cut, making a whimper slip from me.

  “Almost done,” he whispers, his tone much softer.

  He drops the swab in the sink and tilting his head, he leans even closer to me, as he looks at the cut. I feel his breath fan over my neck and freeze as a wave of awareness wells up in me.

  “It doesn’t look like you need stitches,” he says, totally oblivious to my reaction of having him so close to me.

  When he moves back a couple of inches, and his eyes meet mine, I quickly glance to the side.

  “Relax, Hunt.”

  Dude, you’re all up in my personal space. I get a front-row view of your jaw, your mouth, your… everything. Oh, and you smell sooooo good.

  Yep. No way I’m going to relax.

  He squirts some ointment onto his finger, then takes hold of my chin as he dabs it over the cut.

  I glance away again, so I don’t keep staring at his face, and my eyes land on a scar on his left arm which stretches from above his wrist and all the way to his elbow.

  Not thinking, I lift my hand and brush a finger along the length of the scar.

  Mason freezes, and when I feel his eyes burn on me, I drop my hand quickly.

  “You better not be pitying me right now,” he warns.

  “Just a moment of insanity brought on by the fumes of all the crap you’re shoving in my face,” I quickly defend my stupid action.

  He sticks a butterfly bandage over the cut, then he brings his eyes back to mine as he places his hands on the counter on either side of me.

  Uhmmm….

  I stare back having no idea what to do right now.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, thinking that’s what he’s waiting for.

  His eyes are still smoldering with anger from the fight with West, and I’m about to start squirming when he says with a low rumble, “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

  My eyebrow shoots sky-high because I’ve never heard this man use the words ‘I’m sorry’ before.

  He pulls back. “Don’t give me that look, Hunt. You’re going to make me regret apologizing.”

  I point to my face. “You mean this look of total disbelief?”

  “Kingsley!”

  “Ma-aason.” I widen my eyes, and when a smile starts to pull at my lips, I cringe from the sting.

  “Serves you right,” he mumbles as he begins to clear the mess from the sink.

  Maybe I have a temporary concussion because I hop off the counter and pat him on the arm. “Thanks for fixing me up, but seriously, it’s a good thing for all of mankind you didn’t go into the medical field. You have zero bedside manners.”

  Mason swings around, drops the cloth back in the sink and then he’s crowding my personal space.

  He leans even closer, and I swallow hard when I feel his breath fan over the side of my face. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my bedside manners, Hunt.”

  Don’t argue. Let him win this round.

  Don’t!

  “Is that a dare?” I whisper back.

  Oh, woman. Why? Why do you have to have the last word?

  He pulls slightly back, his eyes locking with mine. I resist the urge to swallow hard. This time he stares at me until I feel thoroughly out of my depth, because deep down I know he’s too much for me to handle.

  He’s too hot, too intense, and so much stronger than me. With the emphasis on the hot part right now.

  His eyes slowly drift down to my mouth, and I almost lick my lips, but luckily, I still have some common sense left, and remember the cut.

  “You’re quick with that mouth of yours, but the way your eyes dilated and your breaths sped up, tells me you’re all talk and no action,” he murmurs.

  The sound of a door slamming shatters the moment, and then I hear Layla call, “Kingsley, are you here?”

  I pull away from Mason and rush out of the bathroom to where Layla is standing in the living room.

  “All patched up,” I say sounding a little breathless and taking her hand, I drag her out of the suite as fast as I possibly can.

  “Are you okay?” she asks when we get to the elevator.

  “Yes, and I’m starving,” I use the excuse because we were on our way to get something for lunch when we came across the fight.

  “Doesn’t it hurt? Will you be able to eat?” she asks, her eyes scanning over my face, and I just know she can see something happened between Mason and me.

  “I will suck it through a damn straw
if I have to,” I say, and when the corners of her mouth tip up, I begin to ramble, “It’s just weird when he’s not biting my head off and doing… ahh… you know, patching up the cut.”

  “Yeah?” She nudges her arm against mine. “So weird you forgot to wash your hands?”

  “Shoot.” I look down and then pull a grossed-out face.

  “Yeah, I thought so,” she chuckles, and we first stop by her room so I can clean up, before going for lunch.

  Chapter 9

  Mason

  Standing with my hands braced on the counter, I stare at myself in the mirror.

  What the hell was that?

  Definitely not attraction.

  She’s not my type.

  And she annoys me.

  She might be cute and have incredible blue eyes, but that’s where it ends.

  And that mouth…

  Which got hurt because of me.

  The thought is sobering, making me remember the fight.

  Hatred burns through me, turning my gaze hard. I’m going to end West. It’s only a matter of time.

  “Are you okay?” Falcon asks.

  Turning around, I see him standing in the doorway, and I nod.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” I lie because I hate making Falcon and Lake worry.

  “I’m going to ask him to leave. You guys can’t keep going on like this.”

  “That would be for the best,” Lake agrees as he leans sideways against the door jamb next to Falcon.

  I shake my head. “That won’t solve shit.”

  “Why do you want to keep him around?” Falcon asks.

  “I’m not keeping him around,” I answer, then my voice drops low, as I admit, “I’m torturing him.”

  “Yeah, the guy looks like he ran into a wall,” Lake mumbles.

  “You want him to live with the guilt?” Falcon asks.

  The corner of my mouth twitches because I’ve seen small changes in him since he started dating Layla. He doesn’t brush shit off anymore but digs until he gets to the truth.

  “Yes.” I let out a breath. “I can’t carry it all by myself.”

  “Can we continue this conversation in the living room?” Lake asks.