Using the wooden spoon beside me, I continued to stir the cream in the cast iron skillet that rested upon the stove. I hummed in satisfaction, pleased with how the dinner had turned out. I looked at the clock, 6:42 P.M., they should be coming down any second now.

I wanted to do something nice tonight, and make dinner for us all to eat. With all the nights I've stayed here, we still haven't had dinner altogether. Everyone either gets dinner separately, or doesn't eat. Sometimes Jessica and I will go out and eat ourselves, but at least once I wanted to eat at the table.

Earlier today I hurried off to the grocery store and bought all the ingredients needed for creamy tuscan chicken, one of my favorite dinner meals. I went around the store for what seemed like hours trying to find a good side dish for it, and decided on grilled asparagus and sourdough bread.

I was a bit nervous, I've never cooked dinner for anyone besides my family, and I know if it isn't 5 star chef worthy Mason would be the first to let me know.

I haven't seen him since last night, I wonder where he always runs off to during the day. Does he really spend his whole day hooking up with random girls? I wouldn't be surprised.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath as my finger accidentally touched the edge of the burning hot skillet. I immediately brought my finger up to my hand, and gently sucked the burnt area of skin.

"Mmm, what's that smell?" Jessica asked as she walked into the kitchen, taking in her surroundings. I tried to clean as I went along, but we all know how that goes.

"Dinner." I answered. A surprised look crossed her face as she turned her head toward the dining room table, eyes scanning the plates and silverware already set up.

"What's the occasion?" She asked, as I squeezed some lemon on top of the food.

"No occasion, I just thought it'd be nice. Plus, for as long as I've known you I haven't not once seen your family using the dining room table." I looked over at Jessica and realized she was dressed, makeup on her face-hair done and everything.

"Were you going somewhere?" I asked, and Jessica opened her mouth before closing it and opening it again.

"Just to Shawn's for dinner." Well I felt like an idiot. Why did I think everyone would suddenly be available tonight? I should have made sure everyone's schedules were clear.

"Oh," I said right as Mason stormed down the stairs. Just as Jessica did before him, he looked around the kitchen with a confused look plastered on his face.

"What's going on?" He asked. Mason also looked dressed, even though he was in his normal attire- black jeans and black tshirt. I wanted to ask where he is going but a part of me didn't want to hear the answer.

"Elle made us dinner." Jessica told him. The expression on Mason's face never changed, it looked like he couldn't care less.

"Well I had other plans for dinner." He said, and I felt myself growing irritated.

"Let me guess," Jessica began, "blond and bitchy?" My insides were turning from the question. I didn't want to listen to this.

"More like brunette and easy." He answered. I thought the answer couldn't be any worse than Sofia but I was wrong. I can't keep track of all the girls he's been with, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

"Fine," I huffed, turning off the stove and untying the apron that was around my waist, taking it off in anger and tossing it onto the counter. "I'll just eat it myself tonight, and put the leftovers in the fridge."

Jessica sighed apologetically at my words, and looked back and forth between Mason and I.

"No, no, of course I'm staying," she reassured me, "Shawn's mom can't cook for shit, anyways."

I know her words meant to make me feel better, but they didn't. I didn't want to keep them from their plans.

"No, it's fine, just go." I said as I watched Jessica shoot Mason a look. He looked over at me, and again at Jessica's death glare. A sigh escaped his lips and he walked towards the dining room table, and turned one of the chairs in the opposite direction. He sat down, both his hands resting up on the back of the chair and looked up towards me.

"So what are we having?"

❀

Laughter echoed all around us as I took one last bite of the chicken on my plate. Surprisingly enough, both Jessica and Mason seemed to enjoy my food. I thought Mason would throw in a hateful comment or two, but he never did. Instead, he got seconds. I couldn't help but eye him as he brought more on his plate. A relieved feeling washed over me as I was able to witness it firsthand.

"You liar," Jessica said to Mason, "we all know you were the one who put the worms in my lunchbox." Another laugh escaped my lips at Jessica's accusation.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Mason said blankly and Jessica groaned in irritation. I can see the deceit on Mason's face that in fact Jessica was right.

In second grade, Mason got angry with Jessica and filled her lunchbox with worms from our school garden. No one saw him do it, so no one knows the truth. Well, no one but me. That day I distinctly remember coming out of the Nurses office from a bloody nose I had thirty minutes prior, and saw Mason shove the worms in. It was his first day of school in a new town, and it was the first moment our eyes locked.

Mason looked over at me from across the table, and I couldn't help but smile at the fact that Jessica will never know the truth. It was a weird secret to keep, but it was ours.

As the laughs died down, Jessica quickly checked the time and picked up her plate in a hurry.

"Oh shit, I should get going." She said, and placed her dishes in the sink. "Thank you for dinner." She said, coming back around the table and planting a quick kiss on my head.

"Muah." She said dramatically, as she made her way towards the door. "I'll be back later," she said to me before turning to Mason.

"Be nice." She warned. Mason rolled his eyes at her words as she shut the front door behind her.

And then there were two.

I sat up from my seat and picked up my plate, walking over to the sink. Silence filled the room as his eyes followed my every move. We both knew what was coming next, he was leaving to go screw the next girl on his list. I just wish he'd get it over with and leave.

"So you're free to go." I said to him, placing my dirty dishes in the sink. He looks at me for a few moments, as if he was contemplating something, and stands up walking towards me.

I stay where I am and watch as he walks over to the sink and places his dishes on top of mine. His familiar scent filling my nose as our body was only inches apart. I try to make out the expression on his face, but I can't.

"Actually I was thinking of staying for dessert." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, dessert?

"I didn't make dessert." I said. Can he not see that?

"I'm sure you'll think of something." I don't know what he's talking about, I'm not making any more food. He didn't even thank me for the last food I made him.

He walks away from me, dragging the scent I'm starting to crave away from him as he opens up the fridge and pulls out a bottle of vodka.

"You want a drink?" He asks, holding the bottle up for me to see. I think about it for a moment before answering.

"Uh, sure." I respond, and walk over to the couch while Mason grabs cups.

It hasn't been the two of us talking calmly by ourselves since the party at the beginning of this summer. Normally when me and him talk, we're arguing, or he's trying to figure out a way to get under my skin.

My mind wanders off to last night, the way he made me feel, the words he said, I wonder if he meant them.

His body deepens into the couch as he hands me a cup filled with pink liquid. I looked up at him confused, I thought he asked if I wanted vodka.

"I mixed it for you." He said, and I nodded my head, slowly bringing the cup to my lips and taking a sip. It was good, whatever he mixed it with almost made the vodka seem unnoticeable.

"So, where's your boyfriend?" He asks, and I almost choke on my drink. I bring my body backward into the couch, and face him. Is that what he thinks?

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Does he know that?" He cocked a brow seeming intrigued in what the answer is. His narrowed eyes stay looking at me waiting for my response.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes he does." I hate it when he brings up Aiden. As much as I hate to see it, I try and refrain from bringing Sofia up as much as possible. So why doesn't he do the same?

"And how much longer do you think that will go on for?" I watch as he takes a sip of the clear vodka that's in his cup.

"I don't know what you mean." I answer, gripping the cup tightly in my hands.

"I mean he doesn't seem your type, so why entertain it?" His question is so straightforward I can't help but shake my head in shock. Not my type? Aiden is exactly what I want.

"Like you would know anything about that." I shoot back, taking another sip of the drink in my hands.

"I know what you want." He says, his voice low, and I scoff at his words. I know that I shouldn't keep this conversation going because I'd only be giving him exactly what he wants, but curiosity gets the best of me.

"And what is that?" I tilt my head as the words come out of my mouth. He scoots in closer to me before answering. His long legs brushed against mine, it was quick, and I quickly found myself missing the feeling it gave me.

"You want a love different from everyone else's. A love that consumes every inch of your body, and makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself." I take my eyes off Mason's while he finishes, "You put on this whole good girl facade, but that's not you. You don't seem like the type for simplicity, you want more."

His answer leaves me in disbelief, and for once I'm at loss for words. I can't deny that he was right, I wanted more. I cleared my throat, and took another sip of my drink. The feeling I get from Mason being so close to me is starting to drive me crazy, even if my mind hates everything about him, my body still craves his touch.

"And you think Aiden does that for you?" He speaks up again, his tone is calm but serious. I knew I couldn't have a normal conversation with him.

"I know what you're doing." I admitted. He looks at me, probably surprised I've caught on. "Is this why you asked me if I wanted a drink? Because if it is, your plan isn't working."

"You think I'm trying to get you drunk so I can fuck you?" He mocked, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. "I don't have to get you drunk to do that."

I'm unsure if I should be offended or not. Instead, I rub my hands along my leggings and sit up from the couch. I place the cup onto the coffee table in front of me, and begin to walk away towards the stairs.

"I think I've had enough to drink. I should go back to my room-" I say, but am quickly interrupted.

"Not before answering my question." Mason says, his body forcefully standing in front of mine. His tall, broad shoulders block me from moving any further, and I sigh in frustration.

"I don't want to talk to you about Aiden."

"No, not that question." He says, his green eyes staring back into mine. I don't know where he's going with this. He's blocking my way to the stairs, so my only other option is to see what he wants.

"Then what question?" I ask, knowing that I might end up regretting it. I mean, this is Mason we're talking about here.

"I want you to admit that you enjoyed it." He says in a low voice as his body towers over mine. I can feel the mint of his breath fanning my face as our body stands inches away from each other.

Memories of Mason asking me if I enjoyed our time together before the masquerade party came rushing back to me. I was so surprised when it happened, a part of me didn't believe he really said it.

"No," I said, "Is this some type of quick survey you get after your night with someone? To what, boost your ego or something? Well I won't give you the satisfaction."

He almost seems hurt at my response, but he soon dismisses it. I try to walk past him, but he steps in front of me once more, grabbing my wrists with his hand.

"I can see what I do to you." He said, leaning in closer to me. "I can see the way I make you feel." He admits, his voice so arrogant, but still it sounds like violins to my ears. I shake my head at him, refusing to give him what he wants.

"You're wrong." I mutter.

"Admit it." He growls, stepping in closer to me.

"No." I spit back. My anger starts to rise within me, pushing past all of the lust and desire I feel for this boy standing in front of me.

"So you deny it?" He asks as his fingers start to slowly trail up the sides of my arm. "You deny that this does anything to you?"

His words come out into a whisper, and I can feel my breath starting to quicken.

"Don't," I whimper.

"You deny that my lips," he begins, as he lowers his head into the nape of my neck, planting one kiss along it. "Do nothing for you." He finishes.

It takes everything in me to not stifle a moan from his simple kiss. His dirty words make me feel weak, I have no power when it comes to him and I know it.

"That my touch doesn't send you in complete overdrive-"

"Okay fine, yes I admit it!" I yell out. I'm sick and tired of his games. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" I say, throwing my arms up in frustration.

He looks at me for a few seconds, his green eyes scanning my entire face. I thought that is what he wanted, but he doesn't seem satisfied with my response.

"It's a shame." He answers, stepping closer to me once more, leaving very little space between us now. I can feel the fire ignite in my bones as if him being this close completes me.

"If I were to go back and do it all differently, I would." He began, and I stood there confused. "You see, I just have so many new ideas." 

My heart feels like it's pounding so hard in my chest it could burst at any moment. I feel my mouth start to go dry, thirsty for his touch.

"I would pick you up, and kiss you all along your body starting here." His thumb caresses my bottom lip, and slowly travels down my neck, before making its way down the center of my chest. 

Each second his fingers trail down my body, his eyes stay connected with mine. He watches my face as my breath starts to quicken, his lips curve up, seeming pleased by my reaction.

His touch makes me tremble. My pulse speeds up as he sends his fingers move further down my body.

"And I would end here." He says, his hand stopping in between my legs. I can't help but moan at his sudden action. But it wasn't enough, I wanted more.

"And then I would bend you across the table, and fuck you until you're screaming my name." He whispers and his words send me crumbling. 

Before I can think about what to do, or say next, I hear myself speaking up.

"So do it."