I stepped into Mason's room, a mix of excitement and unease swirling in my chest. What the hell am I doing? The thought echoed in my mind, but it didn't stop me from taking another step forward. The soft scent of his cologne lingered in the air-woodsy and clean, with a hint of something darker-and it only added to the odd thrill of being here.

The room surprised me. For a guy as effortlessly chaotic as Mason seemed, his space was surprisingly neat. The bed was made, his desk was organized, and the only sign of disorder was the small stack of motorcycle magazines on his nightstand. My eyes scanned the room, but there was no sign of him.

The open door leading to the porch caught my attention, sheer curtains swaying gently in the breeze. Curiosity won out over common sense, and I stepped onto the porch, the warmth of the sun kissing my skin as I walked toward the railing.

It was quiet, save for the faint sound of waves in the distance and the soft rustle of leaves. Then, a noise-a faint metallic clink-broke the silence. My heart jumped, and without thinking, I followed the sound. There was a small wooden staircase leading down from the porch to the yard below. My bare feet made no sound as I descended, each step taking me closer to... something.

At the bottom of the stairs, I found a narrow path that curved around the side of the house. It led to the open garage, its wide white door pulled up to reveal a sleek black motorcycle parked just outside. I tilted my head, studying the bike as I approached.

It was beautiful. Its glossy frame gleamed in the sunlight, and the intricate details of the engine hinted at the care and love it had been given. I crouched slightly, running my eyes over the handlebars and polished wheels. I knew Mason loved bikes-he'd mentioned them a few times-but I'd never seen this one before.

"You just can't help but be near me, can you?"

The deep voice, low and teasing, came from directly behind me.

I jumped, spinning around so fast I nearly tripped. Mason was standing inches away, his breath cool against my neck. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched me, a helmet dangling casually from one hand.

"I- I was searching," I stammered, taking a step back to regain some space.

"For me?" he asked, his grin widening. "How sweet."

"No!" I snapped, my cheeks heating. "I was just-" I cut myself off, realizing there was no way to finish that sentence without making it worse.

"Sure," he said, drawing out the word like he didn't believe me for a second. He turned, running a hand over the seat of the bike. "So, do you like bikes?"

I blinked, thrown by the abrupt change in conversation. "I guess."

"Are you afraid of riding them?" he pressed, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as they watched me.

"No," I replied hesitantly, trying to figure out where this was going.

"Good." He nodded, as if satisfied with my answer, and held out the helmet in his hand. "Here."

I stared at it, then at him. "What are you doing?"

"Going for a ride," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I glanced between him and the bike, my brain struggling to keep up. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"You're coming with me," he said, like it was already decided. He swung his leg over the bike, settling onto the seat and looking at me expectantly. "Come on, sit down."

"I- No! What?!" I sputtered, still holding the helmet like it might explode.

He sighed dramatically, hopping off the bike. "Don't tell me you don't know how to put on a helmet."

"I know how!" I snapped, but before I could do anything, he stepped closer and took the helmet from my hands.

"Let me help you," he said, his voice soft now. He placed the helmet on my head with careful precision, adjusting the straps and buckling it under my chin. His fingers brushed my skin briefly, and I hated the way my stomach flipped at the contact.

"There. Perfect," he said, stepping back to admire his work.

I touched the helmet tentatively, still trying to process what was happening. "Wait... Mason, seriously, what are we doing?"

"I already told you," he said, his grin back in full force as he got back on the bike. "We're going for a ride. Now, hop on."

I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to say no. But before I could form an excuse, he reached out and grabbed my hand, guiding it to his waist.

"Come on, shortcake," he said, his voice low and teasing. "You're not scared, are you?"

I glared at him, refusing to back down. "I'm not scared."

"Prove it."

Against my better judgment, I swung my leg over the bike and slid onto the seat behind him. My hands rested awkwardly on his sides, but he wasn't having it.

"Hold tight," he ordered, grabbing my wrists and wrapping my arms fully around his waist. The sudden closeness made my heart race, my chest pressing against his back as the engine roared to life beneath us.

"Mason, I really don't think-"

But my protest was drowned out by the growl of the engine as we lurched forward, the sudden motion forcing me to cling to him tighter.

"Relax," he called over his shoulder, his voice full of amusement. "You'll love it."

We sped down the driveway and onto the open road, the wind whipping past us as the world blurred into motion. At first, I was tense, every muscle in my body braced for disaster. But as the ride continued, the fear melted away, replaced by an unexpected sense of freedom.

The sun warmed my skin, the breeze tangled in my hair, and the rhythm of the bike beneath me was oddly soothing. I closed my eyes, leaning into Mason's back, letting myself get lost in the moment.

For the first time in a long time, I felt completely untethered. Free.

The steady hum of the bike seemed to sync with my heartbeat, and for a brief moment, the world didn't feel so overwhelming. Mason maneuvered the curves of the road effortlessly, his confidence radiating back to me. I couldn't help but feel a small smile creep onto my face as I allowed myself to relax, letting my arms rest more naturally around his waist.

We rode past the beach, the scent of saltwater mingling with the crisp air, and into the hills that surrounded the town. The view grew more breathtaking with every turn-the golden horizon stretching out endlessly, framed by swaying trees and sun-kissed fields. I didn't even bother to ask where we were going. Somehow, it didn't matter.

After what felt like both seconds and hours, Mason slowed the bike and pulled off the road onto a gravel path leading to a secluded overlook. He killed the engine, and the sudden silence was startling. The only sounds were the distant crash of waves and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

"Why are we stopping here?" I asked, sliding off the bike as he propped it on its stand. My legs were a little wobbly, but I managed to steady myself.

Mason pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair before turning to me with that ever-present smirk. "Because it's the best view in town," he said simply, nodding toward the edge of the overlook.

I hesitated, then followed his gaze. The cliff dropped off sharply, revealing a sprawling view of the ocean below. The water sparkled under the sun, each wave catching the light like it was made of liquid gold. It was stunning-peaceful and wild all at once.

"Wow," I breathed, unable to hide my awe.

"Yeah," Mason said, his voice softer than usual. When I glanced at him, I realized he wasn't looking at the view. He was looking at me with this very relaxed posture of his, on top of the bike the helmet resting on the bike too secured by his hands.

"What?" I asked, feeling my cheeks heat under his gaze as he got off the bike.

"Nothing," he said quickly, his smirk returning as he leaned back against the bike. "Just surprised you didn't complain the whole ride here."

"I'm not that bad," I muttered, crossing my arms defensively.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty bad."

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the view. "Why did you want to come here?"

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. "Because everyone needs some time off"

I blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. When I turned to face him, his usual teasing expression was gone, replaced by something quieter. More genuine.

I didn't know what to respond to that. Part of me wanted to brush it off with a sarcastic comment, but the other part-the part that was actually impressed by some showing of feelings from his part-just nodded.

"True" I said softly, the word feeling heavy with meaning.

Mason didn't say anything, but the small smile he gave me said enough.

We stayed there for a while, neither of us saying much. The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon with streaks of pink and orange. I sat on the ground near the edge of the cliff, pulling my knees to my chest as the cool breeze washed over me.

Mason joined me after a while, lowering himself onto the ground with a grace that didn't match his usual cocky demeanor. He didn't crowd me, just sat close enough that I could feel the faint warmth of his presence.

"Do you always do this?" I asked after a long stretch of silence.

"Do what?"

"Run off on your bike to random places."

He chuckled, the sound low and easy. "Sometimes. It clears my head."

I glanced at him, curiosity getting the better of me. "What do you need to clear your head from?"

His smirk faltered slightly, and for a moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer. But then he shrugged, looking out at the horizon. "The usual stuff. Expectations. Heavy words. Heavy feelings. People thinking they know you but they don't "

His words hit closer to home than I expected, and I found myself nodding. "Yeah. I get that."

He turned his head to look at me, his expression unreadable. "You do, don't you?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, I just gave him a small smile, hoping it was enough.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the ground, Mason stood and offered me his hand. "Come on. Let's head back before Aiden sends a search party."

I groaned, taking his hand and letting him pull me to my feet. "He'd probably bring the National Guard if he found out about this."

Mason laughed, and for the first time, it didn't feel like he was laughing at me. "Then we better keep it our little secret."

I didn't argue. Somehow, the thought of having a secret with Mason didn't seem so bad.

How naive was I?