More Than a Game | Mason Mount

Forty Four

I trailed behind a wobbly Kyle up Mason's steps. Natalie, equally as drunk as her boyfriend, rattled off a story ahead of us while Mason unlocked the front door. Cold air nipped at my exposed legs and, despite the jacket Mase had draped over my shoulders, my arms prickled with goose bumps. Kyle stumbled into the house as I reached the top step, but recovered enough to wrap his arm over Natalie's shoulder. 

"Anyway, moral of the story is, don't challenge a German to a boat race," Natalie finished. "Kyle learnt that the hard way." 

"No regrets, though," Kyle said with a screeching laugh. 

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. The couple stood in a fit of giggles at the base of the stairs. Mason, meanwhile, stood stiffly to the side, his free hand in his pocket and his lip in his teeth. He'd looked tense since we left the hotel – dragged out by a rapidly fading Kyle – and, apart from offering a lift in his taxi and giving me his blazer, he'd been silent. Worry pitted in my stomach: what if, just as I'd had a change of heart while we danced, he'd had the same? 

"Anyone want some tea?" Mason asked, his voice silencing Nat and Kyle. His gaze flicked to me, but he settled it on Kyle. 

"Tea? All I want right now is bed," Natalie moaned, snuggling into Kyle's side. 

"Come on, Mitch, we all know it's not tea you want," Kyle said, grinning at Mason. My stomach turned as I anticipated what could come next. "We'll leave you two alone, don't worry." 

I shut my eyes, unable to so much as look at Mason. He mumbled something under his breath, but Natalie drowned out whatever he said. 

"Kyle." I opened my eyes, but stared down at the wooden floors. "Let them be, yeah?" 

"That's what I'm trying to do." 

"Well, I want some tea," I mumbled. I couldn't take the embarrassment, and the kitchen offered my only quick escape. "I'm going to put the kettle on." 

"Night, Beck!" 

Natalie's call followed me as I walked past Mason into the kitchen. Waves of tension hit me as I passed him. God, what was going on in his head? I stopped at the kitchen island and rested my hands on the cool surface. 

"Hey, Nat," Kyle's voice echoed through to the kitchen. "I'll meet you upstairs in a bit." 

As Natalie bid goodnight to Mason and the hushed voices of him and Kyle whispered in the air, I pressed my hands to my scorching cheeks. Curiosity spiked in my chest. I wanted so badly to know what they said. Was it about me? Shutting my eyes, I strained my ears. All I caught was a chuckle from Mase and another roaring laugh from Kyle, though. I lowered myself into a seat as Mason mumbled a goodnight. 

By the time he entered the room nerves turned my stomach inside out. Mase caught my gaze for a second and his face twisted into a small grin. I dropped my eyes to my shoes, though, caught off guard at how his smile made my heart skip. 

"Didn't make it to the kettle, then?" Mason asked. 

I breathed out a chuckle. "Sorry, I'm just so done with these shoes." 

My feet ached after being on them for too long tonight: even in normal circumstances, I couldn't last more than a few hours in heels. I kicked off my right shoe and it cluttered to the floor. The echo was too loud: without the laughter of Kyle and Natalie and with the current state of Mason, a twitchy silence hung around the kitchen. I cringed and lowered my left shoe onto the floor gently. 

"How is your foot?" 

Mason stood next to the kettle, eyes wide. He'd set his prized bottle of wine next to it, and the shiny blue ribbons looked out of place against the white walls and black countertops. I shrugged and lifted my foot above the island, grinning as his nervous expression softened.