Chapter 19

Mason

Izigzagged through the concrete jungle's sea of people, narrowly avoiding collisions. It was like navigating a rush hour traffic jam, except on a skateboard.

The skate shop hosting the competition had been promoting it on social media for weeks. The bridge spot, as we called it, was flooded with participants and spectators.

"Sup, Mason!" My buddy Vance greeted me when he saw me coming his way.

"Why are there so many fucking people here?" I asked him.

"Chill, dude," he laughed. "You really do hate people."

"I don't hate people," I scowled. "I don't want this spot to become mainstream."

"Whatever you say," Vance shook his head.

I scanned the crowd, wondering if Kenna would show. Vance recounted the events of his latest skate trip, which he and another buddy of ours had recently taken to North Carolina.

Suddenly, Vance trailed off, his gaze shifting elsewhere. I turned to see what had captured his attention, and at the same time, a low whistle came from the guy to my left.

I followed Vance's gaze to a blonde woman in a vibrant dress. She moved gracefully, drawing stares from every direction.

And she was headed straight for us.

"Who is that?" Vance asked.

"A friend," I muttered. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, then glided over the smooth concrete to meet the stunning blonde who had caught everyone's attention.

"Mason!" Her voice was as bubbly as ever.

Everyone scowled at me like it was my fucking problem that she wasn't there for them.

I mean, it's not like she was there for me. She was there to watch a skateboarding competition.

Did it allow me to show off in front of a beautiful woman?

Fuck yes, it did.

Did I think she was actually going to show?

Fuck no.

I picked up my board and nodded at her in subtle acknowledgment, "Sup."

Then I kicked myself for acting like a douche. You invited her here, I reminded myself.

"You came," I continued. It wasn't much better than ‘sup,' but whatever. I had never been great with words.

"I was on my way home, so I figured I'd swing by," she smiled up at me.

A tall, lanky guy with shaggy hair zipped past us, narrowly missing Kenna's shoulder. She instinctively pressed herself against my side, her fingers digging into my arm.

"If you're uncomfortable—" I began.

Her cheeks reddened almost instantly as she rushed to straighten herself. "Oh, no! I'm fine!"

"Let's find you somewhere to chill, away from potential accidents," I told her. "We know you're prone to them."

She swatted my arm at my comment. "Hey, you're the skateboarder! You're the one who is prone to accidents!"

"Exactly," I grinned at her, "which is why I'm trying to keep you safe from the wild and reckless skateboarders flocking to this area."

"Who is this?" Vance joined our conversation, his attention only on Kenna.

"Hi!" She squeaked and extended her hand to my buddy. "I'm Kenna! What's your name?"

"I'm Vance," he responded. "I'm a friend of Mason's."

"That's amazing! It's so nice to meet you, Vance," Kenna smiled at him.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," he whispered far too close to her ear for my liking.

I mean, it's not like I had any opinions on the matter. I was just trying to protect her—you know, keep her safe. It was clear to me that she felt out of place in the unfamiliar environment.

With a gentle touch, I escorted her to a sturdy navy blue folding chair that I had stowed away in the trunk of my Jeep. With its faded fabric and rusty metal frame, the chair was not much to look at, but it would serve its purpose. I unfolded it, brushing off any dirt.

Kenna took one hesitant look at it before she sank into the unsightly chair. She seemed more suited for a chic rooftop bar, sipping a cosmopolitan, than perched on a dusty chair under a bridge.

When she caught me looking at her, I quickly averted my gaze, embarrassed that I had been so obvious.

"What exactly is the competition?" she asked.

"It's the game of SKATE," I explained. "Have you heard of the basketball game, HORSE?"

She eagerly nodded. "Duh!"

"Okay, it's just like that, but with skateboarding," I explained. "One person does a trick, and the other must replicate it. If you can't replicate it, you get a letter."

"Are they long or short games?" she asked.

A sudden gust of wind ruffled Kenna's hair, lifting a few strands and sending them dancing around her face. A small piece of hair caught on her glossy lips, and I instinctively reached out to gently pluck it off. Her eyes widened in surprise at first but softened into an expression of gratitude.

"It depends," I shrugged. "It's a bracket competition, but we don't have too many contestants here today. I'm in the first round, so I need to head over there." I pointed to where my competitor was warming up. "Will you be okay?"

"Of course," she promised me.

"Do you mind holding onto this?" I whipped my shirt over my head and tossed it in her direction.

"Good luck!" Kenna's eyes twinkled with excitement.

I skated away from her, my eyes darting back and forth in search of Vance. I knew he would pounce on her the second she was left unaccompanied, like a predator stalking its prey.

But she wasn't mine to protect.

I practiced a few flip tricks, warming up for the first round. Despite my efforts to focus solely on skating, my mind kept drifting to the lone figure sitting in the corner. Her blonde hair was a shining beacon in the shadows.

A local skateboard shop owner, who was sponsoring the competition, took charge as the host. "First up, we have Shane and Mason!" he announced.

I shook hands with my competitor, Shane, before setting the first trick. Luckily, I landed a kickflip.

"WHOO!" Kenna screamed. "Go Mason!"

Our heads whipped in Kenna's direction, unaccustomed to the high-pitched cheering. A sense of pride washed over me.

Clearly, she had come for one reason and one reason only.

She was there in support of me.

I was a competitive person by nature. But with Kenna watching, cheering me on?

Fuck.

I had to win.