Louder Than Words (Fall For Me) (11 page)

CHAPTER 31

After Mason’s heartfelt words, I
sat in a warm silence, drinking in his beautiful words. They warmed my heart.
My whole soul.
I sat there alone a long time, just basking
in a wondrous reverie. But Mason didn’t. He didn’t have time. He was in high
demand.
From everyone.
Everyone needed his help.
With everything.

Finally, things seemed to settle
down. Like the long day was finally coming to an end. A large group had
gathered around the campfire, visiting and joking and making the best of
things. Most of the younger kids were in bed by now. And the few adults that
came seemed to have all gone to bed as well. Now there
was
just the teen volunteers that had come on the trip to serve kids in need (the
ones that didn’t have adults in their lives to take them on the activity).
That’s mostly what the group consisted of—teens that wanted to help make
a difference in a child’s life.

They called me over to the group,
but I shook my head, feeling I should stay in front of the tent and guard poor
Danny while he slept. Guard him from what, I had no clue. But I felt protective
of him.

However, watching Mason in the
firelight at my safe-distance started to feel a little … creepy. Like I was a
stalker watching my (gorgeous) prey. Not good.
Or healthy.
(For my brain,
or
my heart.) I
mean
,
we held too much baggage from our past to ever
get involved romantically. Right? Besides, there was the glaring fact that all
Mason did was break girls’ hearts—I mean, the ones he didn’t consider a
sister. And let’s face
it,
I couldn’t take my heart
breaking from Mason again. I just couldn’t. I mean
,
it
took almost a whole, entire
year
to even talk to him after he moved out. And even then it was only because I
needed him to smash a guy’s face in.

Yeah, I held a grudge. Big time.
But even more than that, I guarded my heart—now more than ever.

So, sigh, though my heart ached for
Mason, I knew I needed to keep my thoughts sisterly towards him. But man, it
was hard!

With a resigned sigh, I bagged my
stalking, and finally wandered over to the group.

They were playing a bizarre,
made-up form of poker and dealt me in on the next hand.

“What are we betting?” I asked
skeptically.

“Not money,” a girl from school
answered. I think her name was Heather. Don’t judge me, but I often don’t care
what people’s names are. I’m going to call her Heather—but not out loud
in case I’m wrong.

Anyway, Heather answered that we
weren’t betting money.

Then Mason added with a grin, “Or
clothes.”

Like he’d voted for strip-poker
(that was a big duh), but he’d been shot down (which was another big duh).

“Favors,” President Philip
answered. “That’s what we’re wagering—favors.”

My eyebrows rose.

“More like
chores
,” Heather explained quickly. “Like who’s going to gather
fire wood in the morning—turns out it’s Philip, the big loser.”

“
Poker
loser,” Philip said with a smile, dramatically
emphasizing the word poker, as if to infer that he himself is not a loser.
(Which is wrong.)

“Hm. Okay,” I finally said, like I
was game.
Because I was.
It was too dark to sit at my
tent alone—alone where all I did was stare at Mason in the firelight like
he was a Greek God or something.
So, not sisterly.

We played a couple of uneventful
rounds. Then there was just
me,
Heather, Philip and
Mason left in the game.

It was my turn to make a wager. Heather
was to my left—so my terms were to her. “I want your tent spot next to
Mason.”

Mason cocked his head at that. I
saw his eyebrows rise, but he made no comment. Just sat looking at me with
question marks in his eyes.

“Too rich for my blood,” Heather said,
not wanting to give up her coveted spot. Instead, she folded saying, “I’m out.”

Philip’s wager to me was said with
a grin and wink, “I want a kiss.”

I sighed warily, but I wasn’t too
worried. After all, I had a winning hand.

“Okay, I’m disgusted—but still
in,” I
muttered,
only half-teasing. Well, making it
sound
like I was teasing. But
really Philip was quite full of himself. So though he was handsome, I pretty
much couldn’t stand the guy.

Then I added
my
terms. “If I win, you have to fix my tent to stand properly.”

I turned my gaze on Mason, eying
him challengingly. “Mason, you still in?”

The corners of his lips twitched up
a bit as he jutted his chin. “What are the stakes?”

“Hmmm.” I hadn’t really thought
about my terms with him—I’d simply wanted Philip to fix my tent, since it
seemed it might fall over any minute.

I bit the inside of my cheek,
thinking. Then admitted, “I don’t feel like I can ask anything of you.”

His eyes stayed on me. I shifted my
jaw from side to side, thinking, thinking,
thinking
.
Then I grinned. “Tomorrow at breakfast you have to sing.”

Mason ducked his head with a
groan-slash-laugh. “I’d rather fix your tent.”

“Done!” I announced without missing
a beat. I needed my tent fixed. Of course I wanted Philip to be the one to have
to do it, but well … I needed my tent fixed.

Mason’s eyes twinkled.
His lips quirked a tiny grin.
“Okay … but if I win I want
the kiss.”

Heat ripped through me.

But I quickly went for chill.

“Of course you do,” I said
teasingly, as though my heart wasn’t slamming against my chest. But it was. Hard.
The thought of Mason kissing me again—and that he’d brought up the idea
himself—it had
me shaking and sweating and basically on
fire
.

I sucked in my breath, still trying
to act nonchalant. Like I wasn’t shaken to the core. After all, I had a winning
hand, so none of this mattered. (Except he
requested
my kiss!!)

Mason’s lips flashed an incredulous
grin. “You blushing
Summer
?”

“Of course not—just excited
to get my tent fixed,” I said playfully. Then I smugly showed him my hand.

Philip scowled at my cards, then
threw his in the air, muttering. For the most part kidding—I hope. But my
gaze stayed fixed on the only person I cared about.

Mason grinned slightly, watching my
eyes closely as he flipped his cards over, seeming to be curious what my
reaction would be.

Whoa
.

I stared at his hand and blinked.

He beat me.

My heart ricocheted off my ribcage.

Mason inclined his head with a
grin. “Now you blushing?”

“Let’s see the kiss,” everyone started
chanting.

Mason’s eyes seemed to laugh. Then
he did a bit for real. “Oh, no way. I’m not kissing her with an audience.”

His eyes met mine. “You ready for
bed?”

Everyone made “ohhh” noises. Like
he was suggesting something scandalous and … Mason like. Well, like Mason was
to other girls.
Never to me.

My stomach dropped. “Wh—what
?!
”

He ducked his head with a laugh, since
everyone—including me—seemed to take his words wrong. “I meant,
I’ll kiss you at your tent. When you’re ready to go.”

I reddened. “Oh.”

That calmed my heart … a little.
But it was still pounding up a storm. I mean
,
it had
been almost a
year
since our last
kiss. Yet the memory of it still had me on fire. And really, just thinking about
him doing it again had my heart ready to explode.

Still, I tried to sound chill and ultra
casual. Though I knew Mason wouldn’t buy it—my rock-calm act. He knew way
better than to believe anything like that.
Of course.
I
mean
,
he’d been around for our last kiss. He knew what
it did to me. That it had completely blown me away.

I whispered hoarsely, “I guess I’m
ready now.”

More scandalous noises erupted from
the pack. But Mason just quirked his eyebrows at them like they were seriously
damaged—and they should probably think about getting lives.

This all seemed so surreal. (Didn’t
I
just
convince myself I should just
be sisterly to the guy? Wasn’t that just like, less than an
hour
ago?)

Still, little shivers of
anticipation danced around in the pit of my stomach. (I think I’ve mentioned
I’m a goner for a good kiss—and hey, I had the ultimate pleasure of
knowing what was in store … a kiss that would rock my world.) So, though I was
extremely hesitant, I was also quivering with eagerness. (Pathetically sad, yes
… but still, sigh—totally true.)

Mason’s brow rose when I just stood
there dreamily staring at him, my heart pounding and my eyes drinking him in.
He smiled faintly. Like he knew exactly what was going on in my brain.
Embarrassing!

A spark flickered in his eyes as
his brow rose again.

Oh,
right
. I had to actually move. Get my feet to, you know, leave this one
little spot where they seemed to be glued—so I could lead him to “The
Kiss.” (!!!)

Mason walked silently with me to my
tent. Then he said, “Here, let me pin you against the tree.”

Heat sizzled through my body. I
gasped. “Pin me
?!!
”

He grinned at my dropped jaw.
“Yeah, so I can have something to lean against.” He drew closer. “Look, this is
probably my only chance to get to do this again. I want to do it right.”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

He smirked gently. “What no smart
remark?”

“I can’t think of one.” I drew in
my breath. “Actually, I can’t think of much of anything at the moment.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he grinned.

He gently, gently backed me up
against the tree. The air whooshed out of me just from that—his gentle
touch. It sent electric sparks through my whole body and made my heart pound
wild against my chest.

Closing my eyes, I waited.
Aching and practically panting for his magical kiss.
I held
my breath and everything. The world spun and my pulse pounded hard in my ears,
waiting, waiting,
waiting
.

I could hear him
breathing
,
it was driving me wild
.

Silently, he skimmed his rough
hands down my shivering arms. Oh
my gosh
, not kidding,
I had to hold back a moan. Not kidding!!! His achingly tender touch made
tingles wash through my entire body. I was on fire for that kiss.

But instead of his mouth crashing
on mine like I anticipated, his warm breath heated my lips with a question.

His voice came out hesitant, almost
shy, “You know how you were saying you wanted the tent closer to me?”

I opened my eyes at his unexpected
question. I peeked up at him. “Yeah.”

He narrowed a look at me, his eyes
full of question. “Why’d you want that?”

I didn’t understand why we were
talking instead of mackin’. Confused, I shrugged. “You know me—I’m just a
big chicken and our tent is kind of on the outskirts of the group. I’d just
feel safer closer to you.”

He cocked his head and squinted. “I
have a five man tent.”

He said it as though this should
mean something to me. But my body was still shivering with tingles and my head
was stuck on thoughts of kissing—that’s all it could focus on—the
only
thing—of having his beautiful
warm mouth press against mine and me melting into his strong, hot, scrumptious
embrace. Mmmm.

I swallowed, trying to
refocus—but my mushy, star-struck brain refused. “Are you saying me and
Danny can have it?”

He looked at me incredulously, his
answer a slow shake of his head.

Oh. My face ignited with heat for
some reason—probably because I was thinking about kissing him. “You mean
you’d share it with us?”

His voice was soft, but sounded
sort of like, duh. “Yeah.”

My face went even hotter. I’m sure
it was bright red, but he didn’t tease me about blushing now.

“It was just a thought,” he
murmured softly, his face drawing near mine, finally going to do what we came
here for.

The air whooshed out of me and my
heart sped up as I dreamily thought,
Here
it comes. What
I’ve fantasized about for the last year—no the last
four
years.
The spectacular thrill of being kissed by Mason Archer.

Then FINALLY the kiss came. It was the
softest, sweetest, most wonderful kiss in the
world.….
But it was on my forehead.

“Good night, Summer.”

CHAPTER 32

I didn’t know what had me so
unnerved about Mason’s offer—about the tent situation. I knew he didn’t
mean anything swarmy or lewd.
Of course.
So I don’t
know why it struck me so oddly. I mean, he used to sleep in a sleeping bag on
my bedroom floor every night.

Of course back then he’d never planted
those amazing lips on me—and never told me he wanted to kiss me blind.

So … there was that.

In any case, Mason must have told
Philip he didn’t need to help him with my tent.
‘Cause he
didn’t.
Mason had it straight and proper in a matter of minutes.

Then Mason left me with another
simple, “Good night.” It wasn’t tense or awkward or anything
like
that. It was gentle and caring. But still, it gave me a knotted, unsettled feeling
in the pit of my stomach that made it sort of hard to breathe.

I never liked Mason leaving me. Not
ever. Not the whole, entire time I knew him.

And tonight was definitely no
exception.

***

I tossed and turned in my sleeping
bag, totally fretting about Mason, and our confusing relationship. The term
“rocky” and “unsteady” seemed to pretty much sum it up. The lines blurring big
time at times—from
both
of us now, though … right? Right??? I mean
,
he
had been the one to initiate
this
kiss. It had been totally all him.
Totally … although, yeah, the kiss ended up being completely “brotherly.” So,
ugh. Whatever. Maybe I was still the only one blurring the lines.

I was back to thinking I should
just
keep
my mind sensible—stop with the
fantasizing and secrete hoping. Just think of Mason as my brother. Period.
Since really, it seemed I didn’t even have a choice. This year—away from
us—Mason had become pretty much a trouble magnet—getting into
fistfights constantly, and breaking girls’ hearts with lightening speed…. So, I
tried to be glad he apparently still wanted to keep me “sisterly.”

I mean, ‘cause really at least
there was that, right?

Here comes a huge example of why:
When I woke in the middle of the night—after all of my tossing and
turning in my sleeping bag, fretting over Mason and our unclear
relationship—I was relieved (but not totally surprised) to see Mason had
moved his tent.
Moved
it!!

A huge lump rose in my throat and
my heart got all warm and mushy. ‘Cause his tent was now out of the row of all
the other tents—totally out of formation. Instead, it was right in front
of mine—
right
in front
of it—so there was no way someone could get into it without disturbing
Mason’s.

With a resigned sigh, I had to
admit—being his “sister” definitely had its perks.