-Bennett-

I silently cursed as Eric bolted out of the sauna, fretfully realizing I was being left to my own devices once again. My mind was already viciously whirling from our past interactions, Eric's sly remarks laced with a bit too much awareness for comfort. Thus, I was equally grateful and tense over his sudden departure, somewhat rattled even if he hadn't actually caused any issues.

At least I'd dragged myself back to reality.

The foolish notion that Eric might like me had lasted as long as it took for him to crack his first joke, which had unsurprisingly been about my obvious inability to stop shamelessly ogling Mason. And sure, I tried to play it off as my own paranoia at first, but then he flashed me a knowing smirk.

Suddenly, the floor was caving in beneath my feet.

I tried to deny it, of course. With words and facial expressions, and even tired groans of disagreement, But Eric didn't buy that at all. So, I almost expected myself to ease up once he finally left. To relax against the bench and let out the bated breath I'd been holding onto.

Instead, I looked up and met Mason's cold glare.

That was all it took, really.

A single inkling of irritation and I was restlessly glancing away, desperately evading his gaze. The panic started along with the shakiness of my hands, which I stiffly kept at my sides, and traveled throughout the rest of my body in shudders. And perhaps that would've been the worst of it, truly, if it wasn't for the fact that I was already overthinking.

Mason's stoic glare had a way of drawing out the most flustered parts of me... the nervous self-conscious part that typically tried to fill the awkward empty space with excuses and rambles, desperately pleading for approval.

Yet, in that moment, I couldn't come up with a single response.

"I'm sorry about him," Mason grumbled, glowering at the floor rather intently. "I know he can be a handful."

I shook my head, forcing a weak smile. "It's okay. He's pretty nice."

"Yeah..."

We just let the awkward silence settle over the small sauna after that. In that moment, I was more or less content with peering up at the ceiling, willfully ignoring the bouts of worry festering in the crevices of my mind. I didn't really know how to talk to him, much less how to act around him. It was infuriating, really, that I couldn't just relax. Or, perhaps, the issue was that I couldn't really look at him without feeling so flustered.

And the same question kept poking at me, each jab rougher than the last. There was no distraction that could halt my spiral now. I didn't even have my phone with me, or any real means of escape.

"Is it really okay?" I asked into the quiet room, and it sounded like a remorseful confession. "...if I go?"

Mason blinked, his dark brows furrowing further as he peered down at me. "Huh? You talking about Devon's party?

"Yeah, that..."

"Of course," Mason breathed out easily, his expression softening. "Why would you—?"

I didn't reply.

"Bennett," he called out, standing up when I quietly met his gaze, still not offering an answer.

My eyes widened with concern as he walked over, but I forced down the urge to bolt. Mason, possibly oblivious to my sheer frenzy, casually settled down beside me; he let out a deep sigh before leaning close, pressing our shoulders together. He glanced over at me nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just crowded onto my bench... into my space. "Bennett."

I just shrugged in response while holding eye contact with the floor, unable to focus on anything but the warmth of his arm against mine.

"Bennett."

"Mason..." I forced out.

Mason let out an exasperated huff, his hand rising up to his face as he angrily rubbed the space between his eyebrows. He glanced around, as if looking for something, before turning his whole body towards me. "It does seem that way, huh? Like it bothers me?"

I shrugged, feigning ignorance. But yeah, it did. Mason had glared with that same unwelcoming scowl he typically wore, and it'd freaked me the hell out even though it shouldn't have felt like such a personal slight.

"I just wanted to make sure," I muttered.

"I'm not angry... if that's what you're thinking," Mason explained, wincing at the mere notion. Then, he hastily wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, wiping it off on the side of his shorts. "That's just my face."

I chuckled weakly, nodding my head in agreement. "Right, sorry."

Mason huffed again before reaching out and gently flicking my forehead, just like he had that night in his car. "I mean it."

"Me too."

"Actually, I'm glad you even showed up today," he whispered gently, nudging me. "Part of me thought that maybe you'd bail."

I pouted up at him. "I can be brave!"

Mason nodded his head in agreement, but he didn't seem convinced. "Mm-hmm, so brave," he cooed, trying to suppress a grin.

I huffed, even if I was unable to muster up much irritation. "Jerk."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

Mason snorted. "You sure?"

I just grumbled at that, caving in far too easily. "I'm kidding," I muttered out, even if he didn't seem all that bothered in the first place.

"If I'm being honest," Mason suddenly said, leaning back on the bench so he was resting against the wall. "I wasn't really aware of the party. And I wasn't really planning on attending either."

"Oh."

"But if you're going," he continued before I could say anything else, tilting his head towards me. "Then I'm going."

Mason locked eyes with me once more, when there was already nowhere to run, and I was nothing but a brittle, pinned butterfly mounted on a frame. All I could do was cave under the pressure, my tense back pressing firmly against the warm wood, and my shoulder set ablaze where his skin met mine.

And of course, the words just tumbled out of my mouth before I could help myself: "I'm glad. I—I mean, Eric is nice and all, but—ugh, I don't know. I guess I'm just glad you'll be there too. Or, not too, but like, you specifically? Because... well, just because."

Mason suppressed a smile, humoring me with a curt nod. "Right."

"Right," I echoed weakly.

He just chuckled.

"You know what I mean, right?" I forced myself to mutter out, attempting to look into his eyes instead of his parted lips.

Mason just nodded his head once more, yawning into his mouth. Then, he smiled softly as he caught me echoing a yawn, and I couldn't help but groan in embarrassment at being perceived perceiving him.

Still, I didn't look away.

I really liked his smile, even when ephemeral. And the more I learned about him, the easier it was to distinguish the genuine glimmers of joy from the rest. Especially when their candor was doubtful, I couldn't help but wonder what he was trying to preserve by feigning wellness. If it was for his own sake, or for the peace of mind of whoever was on the other side.

I thought back to the way he'd lit up at the pool, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he burst into laughter at Eric's expense. His eyes had gleamed so brightly in that brief moment, and the tender swell of his laugh felt foreign in a way that singed.

And I just... longed.

I didn't even know what for.

But it was like a simmering ache, stemming from my chest and spreading out like warped branches. They tangled themselves amongst my bones, demanding space, but crushing inwards. Until I was just a crumbling constitution of need and want, helplessly rooted to my own delusions. Because that's what it all led back to.

---

"How long has it been?"

I drowsily tilted my head up at the clock, blearily staring at it while trying to make sense of the lines and numbers. "Almost half an hour. Why?"

Mason laughed for some reason, and I just frowned at him. "Hmm?"

"You look so sleepy."

"Huh?"

"Don't fall asleep on me, now," he teased.

"I'm so awake r—" I started before a yawn disrespected me with its abrupt presence. "—right now. Shit."

Mason exulted in the realization, languidly resting his head back against the wall. "I like the warmth too. It's nice," he replied, eyes closed. "And how quiet it is in here. It doesn't even feel like we're at the gym anymore."

And honestly, he was right. There was a persistent quietness that permeated throughout the dimly lit room, which was surprisingly relaxing despite my concerns. I tried to unwind a bit more, resting back against the wall.

"We probably shouldn't be in here too long," Mason pointed out, worriedly glancing up at the clock. "Don't want you to get dehydrated."

I nodded my head before realizing he couldn't see it. So, I let out a grunt of agreement, my traitorous eyes shifting down as they brazenly took the opportunity to get another glimpse.

We were sitting quite close, which made it possible to see every single muscle shifting as he turned his torso to face me; his beautiful, tanned skin glistened under the dim light of the flickering, overhead light. My body grew tense, melting from the inside out, and his firm chest just kept rising and falling as the heat seeped further in.

I could feel it under my fingertips as they grazed across the wooden bench in search for a distraction, the ridges soft and worn down. Deep down, there was a carnal need to reach out and touch. The arm between us stood fixed in place, fingers curling and uncurling with the knowledge that I was inches away. It was too much, but not enough.

I wanted... something. I couldn't even name it, but I felt weary with yearning. I leaned away, lest I succumbed to my own thoughts.

Not that I would. Or, at least, not that I hoped I would.

But I still gulped it all down the best I could, letting out a shaky breath when I was done. I tore my eyes away for all of two seconds before peering back, unavoidably. But it had to be okay to look, right? Plenty of people window shopped without ever entering the store. And plenty more fantasized of living an existence far beyond their means. My Amazon "Saved for later" list was full of shit I'd never be able to afford. This was no different. I was just another fool in an endless line of chronic optimists.

So, this much... it had to be okay.

I jolted as Mason shifted closer on the bench, turning towards me and slowly opening his eyes. I breathed out a shaky sigh, unable to hold back the jittery nervousness that had found its way in. I quirked an eyebrow, wondering if it'd be rude to lean away.

"I wanted to ask you something," Mason murmured, his gaze dropping slightly; his body leaned forward ever so slightly, as if testing whether he could.

My breath caught in my throat. But I hesitantly nodded my head.

"A-ask away," I stammered, gazing into his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that night, which was surprisingly tame when the other option was to stare at his pecs.

"I was... wondering if you would ever consider—If you would..."

My eyes flickered between his dark blue eyes and the floor, my helpless mind racing at the mere thought that perhaps... that maybe. And every other type of ambiguous language. I braced myself for it, mustering up all the courage I had to stay seated beside him. To keep my hopes down, even as they soared without my permissions.

His hot breath brushed against my face as he leaned closer, slightly minty. And I could see his mouth parting as he willed the words out, the moment approaching sooner than I could've ever expected; my heart was pounding painfully against my chest, but I couldn't look away. I felt... lightheaded. Like I wasn't even there.

"—let me be your personal trainer."

I froze, frowning up at him in sheer bewilderment, unable to compute anything past his sheepish smile. That was not the suggestion that I'd been expecting. And judging by his hesitant expression, or even the way he shuffled back a little, it seemed that he wasn't expecting my reaction either.

I glanced down, anxiously tugging down on the towel that I had wrapped around my shoulders, wrapping it tightly around my chest. I was clothed, but in that moment, it felt like he could see right through the layers of fabric. Like he was scrutinizing me. Why would he ask me that? Did he really think I needed it that badly? That I wasn't trying?

"Oh," I mumbled, wrapping my arms along my waist.

"I mean, not if you don't want to, of course," Mason continued, wincing. "It was just a suggesting. I have the extra time and you..."

He drifted off, which was probably for the best.

There was bile in the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down. Mason reached out to place a hand on my shoulder, but the way his fingers curled around my shoulder had me cowering back. It felt too much like rough fingers gripping at my flesh, pinching down to measure body fat.

I restlessly shot up to my feet, stumbling towards the door. "Yeah, sounds good," I weakly responded while pushing the door open. "You were right; we've been in here too long."

---

A/N: Oh.