Chapter 26

Noah's jaw dropped, "He brought you dessert at ten o'clock at night? Thathemade?"

I scrolled through my inbox, searching for an email that had managed to slip through the cracks.

"I mean, he made it for his clients," I explained. "It's not like he made it just for me. And I live so close to him. Dropping by is not out of his way."

Noah's throat rumbled with protest. "I highly doubt he's dropping off dessert to anyone else," he said.

"Okay? So? We're just friends," I told him.

"Girl, When Harry Met Sally is your favorite movie," he said. "Don't pull the friend line on me."

"No, really," I laughed. "I'm not even his type."

Noah's eyebrows furrowed with disapproval, his lips pursing into a thin line. "Do you mean he's not your type?"

"I don't know if I even have a type anymore," I admitted.

"Kenna!" Noah squealed.

"What?"

"You like him, don't you?"

"What?" I asked. "No!"

"You're acting weird."

"I'm just dreading Brett's stupid housewarming party," I said. "That's all."

Noah rose from his seat, a gentle creak echoing through the otherwise silent room. "Oh, honey. Are you still planning on going?"

"I mean, I already RSVP'd," I sighed. "I don't have an option now."

"When is it?" Noah asked as he leaned against my desk.

"Next week."

The phone's shrill ring echoed through the quiet office, and Noah sprang to his feet to answer it. After a quick conversation with a client, he returned to his position, leaning against my desk.

He met my gaze with a sorrowful expression, his brows furrowed in concern. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Things come up. I'm sure they would understand if you can't make it."

"Noah, I'm a big girl," I said. "I'll be fine."

"Is Skater Boy going as your date still?" he asked.

"Yep!"

"Well, at least you'll have some arm candy," he giggled.

"Wait," I said, "is that what I am for him tonight?"

I was joking. I knew Mason wasn't using me as arm candy, just like I wasn't using him for arm candy either. I just enjoyed his company. And I was pretty sure he enjoyed mine. At least, I hoped he did.

"What's tonight?" Noah asked.

"His friend Vance is having a party to celebrate Mason's win at the competition," I explained. "Bridget is coming with me, but she's driving separately."

"Ah, a precaution in case she needs to make a quick exit," Noah laughed.

"You know Bridget," I said.

I couldn't blame her. A skateboarder's house party wasn't her typical scene, but I was grateful she decided to go.

∞∞∞

As I climbed into Mason's car, his sharp blue eyes scanned every inch of my body. A shiver ran down my spine as I felt his gaze linger on the swell of my cleavage before slowly lifting to meet my eyes. It was as if he could see right through me, reading every thought and desire I had about him.

"That color looks good on you," he said.

"Black?" I laughed.

"I don't know why I said that," he admitted. "I didn't even notice the color of your shirt."

My head tilted back as a laugh erupted from my throat in response to his remark.

"I was a bit distracted," he said.

Hey, at least he was honest.

"Completely understandable," I said, pulling the seatbelt over my chest.

"You do look amazing, though," he continued.

His intense gaze remained fixed on me, and his hands gripped the steering wheel firmly.

"Thank you, Mason," I said.

For the first time since I had known him, he was wearing a pop of color: a cobalt blue Volcom T-shirt.

"Now, that color does look good on you," I giggled. "It makes your eyes pop."

He quickly glanced down at his shirt as if he had forgotten what he was wearing.

"Thanks," he said before he put the car in drive.

"My friend, Bridget, is going to meet us at Vance's," I said, "if that's okay."

Mason laughed, "I don't think Vance will have a problem with that."

"He seems sweet," I said.

"If that's what you want to call it," Mason joked.

Luckily, we pulled up to Vance's at the same time as Bridget.

"Bridget!" I squealed. "This is my friend, Mason. Mason, Bridget."

The two exchanged pleasantries and shook hands. When Bridget mouthed ‘holy shit' to me, it was clear that Mason's charm was not lost on anyone.

We ascended the historic home's old, creaky porch steps as a trio, with me sandwiched between Mason and Bridget. The worn wood groaned under our weight, whispering secrets of years past.

As we stepped inside, sounds of conversation and laughter filled the room.

A sizeable wooden beer pong table dominated the kitchen, surrounded by guys with bloodshot eyes and wide grins. On the expansive balcony, white rocking chairs provided a comfortable spot for a small group to pass around a blunt.

It was the kind of party you expected from a bunch of skateboarders.

It was chill.

And the exact opposite of the type of party I was used to.

"Sup, Mason," a voice shouted behind us.

We turned to find Vance approaching us with a broad grin.

"Kenna, it's good to see you again!" Vance hugged me warmly as if we were long-lost friends reunited.

Mason cleared his throat, and Vance's arms dropped to his side, releasing me.

"Who is this redhead, and is she for me?" Vance asked, turning to Bridget.

"I'm not for you," Bridget hissed as she looked Vance up and down.

"Chill, dude," Mason whispered to Vance.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" Vance asked Bridget.

She stared blankly at him. She wasn't the least bit interested, and he was painfully unaware. Despite only speaking to Vance twice before, it was clear that he lacked the finesse and charm needed to engage with women. He had potential; he just needed some direction.

Bridget's phone buzzed in her purse like a trapped bee trying to escape. Her fingers fumbled to retrieve it, eager to see who was reaching out to her.

"Her name is Bridget," I informed Vance. "She's my friend."

"Kenna, can I talk to you for a sec?" Bridget asked, her mouth open as she smacked her gum.

I tugged Bridget's hand and led her to the corner of the room, where she sought much-needed privacy.

"If you want to go, I totally understand," I told her before she could devise a silly excuse.

She shoved her phone in my face, "Nick wants me to come over!"

Ugh. I would have preferred a silly excuse.

"Is that a good idea?" I asked her.

Bridget was in a situationship with Nick, and his booty calls were nothing new to her. She knew he wanted her for one thing and one thing only. He had made that clear from the start. She longed for a deeper connection with him and would only be sorely disappointed in the end.

I had repeatedly warned her not to venture down that rabbit hole, but she never listened.

"Nick is trying to be more consistent," she said as she glanced around the room. "And honey, you know this isn't my scene," she laughed.

"Thanks for trying anyway," I said.

"Take care of my girl, please!" Bridget told Mason when we rejoined him. "And get her home safe!"

"I'll protect her with my life," he said, his face as serious as ever.

"Oh," Bridget giggled, "I like him."

"Are you heading out already?" Mason asked Bridget. "I hope Vance didn't offend you."

My friend waved him off. "No, no," she said. "I just have other plans."

"If that's what you want to call them," I giggled.

We said our goodbyes, and Bridget left for the guy's house who would irrevocably crush her heart.

It was a canon event.