Metamorphosis (24 page)

After hanging up on her, I picked
up my guitar and immersed myself in my music, reveling in the sweet release. It
didn’t escape me that I had spent most of the day engaged in activities that
kept me from focusing on questions I needed to answer about what I was doing
and what I wanted. But I wasn’t quite ready to have that talk with myself, so I
opted for more music and less thinking. I literally played until my fingers
hurt, and then I showered and got ready for bed. I checked my phone one last
time before laying my head on the pillow… nothing.

The next several days passed
quickly with classes and time spent working on a History project I had due the following
week. When I woke up Monday morning, I had a text from Ash waiting for me,
wishing me a good morning and telling me that he had finally got the timing
down for a song he had been working on. We had a quick exchange of messages,
and miraculously, everything seemed to be back to normal with us, or back to
pre-Friday since I really wasn’t sure what we were was really normal. Mason
made my Tuesday by texting the following morning when I was in class, and I
couldn’t help but chuckle when I later re-read our conversation.

Mason (10:43AM): Morning, angel. You in class today?

Me (10:45AM): Morning,
lose
the angel, and
unfortunately, yes

Mason (10:52AM):
You aren’t going to win this one
,
angel-let it go
. What time do you get out?

Me (11:00AM): I will win Rat boy, and 1:00 but I’ve got to work on a
project this afternoon. Why? What’s up?

Mason (11:04AM): I like when you call me Rat. Want to grab a bite to
eat tonight? You have to stop to eat, right?

Me (11:06AM): Don’t worry, that will be the last time I ever call you
that.

Mason (11:07AM): What’s wrong with rats? Templeton was a cute little
guy… he was always helping out that girl and the pig.

Me (11:10AM): What’s wrong with rats? ARE YOU SERIOUS?
Whats
wrong with
rats?
Rats are disgusting, disease-infested, repulsive rodents.
Ewww

Mason (11:14AM): Cartoon rats, angel! Sweet, fluffy cartoon rats…

Me (11:17AM): Like Pinky and the Brain? Two sweet, fluffy cartoon
rats… ha!

Mason (11:18AM): Mickey Mouse

Me (11:20AM): Splinter

Mason (11:23AM): Remy from Ratatouille

Me (11:25AM): Jerry, he was a mean little shit to poor Tom

Mason (11:29AM):
Fievel
Mouskewitz

Me (11:37AM): You really know
Fievel’s
last
name? You should be hiding somewhere in shame right now. Just wait until I
share that tidbit of info with the rest of
Jobu’s
Rum.

Mason (11:44AM):
Haha
, blackmail does not
become you, angel.

Me (11:50AM): It’s not blackmail if I don’t want anything in return

Mason (11:54AM): Are you always so giving? Never wanting anything in
return for
yourself
?

Me (11:57AM):
I’m good
,
I
don’t need anything

Mason (12:02PM): You don’t think you need anything, but I can show you
otherwise… come to dinner with me tonight, I’ll show you a little of what
you’re missing

Me (12:15PM): pick me up at 6:00

Mason (12:15PM): cool

As soon as my last class ended, I
rushed back to the dorm, anxious to get started on my project so that I could
finish up in time to shower and freshen up before Mason picked me up. I was
excited to see him again, not having to wait until Friday after all; however,
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being more than a little nervous. When I had
messed around with him the previous weekend, I truly didn’t think I would ever
talk to him again, much less be having dinner with him four nights later. I
wasn’t sure what he was going to expect from me.
A repeat
performance?
More? I shuddered in anticipation just thinking about it.

Evie
had gone straight from her last
class to a study group session with one of her other classes, so I was left to
my own thought while getting ready. The only other time Mason had seen me I was
wearing
Evie’s
clothes, so I was curious to see his
reaction when I was dressed in my own style. I was in a blue and white striped
casual summer dress, as it was still in the high 70s here some nights, paired
with none other than my old faithful boots. I braided my hair into two braids
since I was pressed for time, and at five ‘til six, a knock on the door pulled
me from my final inspection in the bathroom mirror. I grabbed my purse and
greeted Mason with a huge smile and an open-mind.

“Oh, wow,” he said, not hiding the
fact he was looking up and down my body. “You look even better than I
remembered.” His words made my heart flutter, and when he stepped towards me
and kissed me softly on the lips, my stomach began a string of endless
somersaults. He looked exactly as I had remembered-tall, strong, handsome, and
dangerous. He was dressed similar to how he had been on Friday, dark jeans and
a solid gray fitted
t shirt
that matched his eyes
perfectly. I wondered if we looked a little mismatched. He definitely looked
the part of a lead in a rock band with all of his tattoos and piercings, and I
looked… well I kind of looked like a farm girl.

“Damn, angel, the hair and the
boots…”
He lightly tugged on my pigtails
,
his eyes sparkled mischievously
. “Are you trying to kill
me?” I guess he liked the farm girl look.

I shook my head and looked down at
my feet. “Is this okay for wherever we are going?”

“You look perfect. Come on, I have
something I want you to see.”

Mason grabbed my hand and led me
down the hall and out to the parking lot. I looked around for his car as we
approached the visitor parking area, but didn’t see it. Instead, a brand new
black Harley Davidson was parked in the first spot of the paved section. I
stopped walking and looked at him incredulously.

“Tell me you didn’t buy a
motorcycle.” It came out more like a question than a statement, but I already
knew the answer. It was staring directly at me. He smirked and replied, “Well,
I hated to disappoint you, angel. I just got it today.”

I walked closer to it, inspecting
it like I knew something, anything, about motorcycles. All I could tell is that
it’s black and shiny and a Harley. I was glad that at least he hadn’t gotten a
crotch rocket; there was no way in hell I was getting on one of those. “Why?” I
wondered as I looked up in his slate eyes.

“Well, now I’m the total package,
right?” He waggled his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but throw my head
back in laughter.

“Your package was just fine before
the bike,” I replied.

He stepped behind me, pulled my
back to his chest by wrapping his colorful arms around my mid-section, and
seductively said in my ear, “I’m glad you enjoyed my package so much…”

Giggling, I turned around to face
Mason and loved seeing the playfulness in his expression. I draped my arms
around his neck and attempted the same sultry voice that he had used moments
earlier, “It’s the most magnificent package I’ve ever seen.” And I pressed a
light peck at the corner of his mouth. He groaned and pulled my lips back to
his, demanding a longer, more intimate kiss. “Don’t say things like that
Scarlett. We’ll never make it to dinner,” he groaned into my mouth.

I pulled back a bit and looked
down out my outfit, wondering if I should change out of my dress to get on the
motorcycle. As if he could read my mind, he grabbed my hand and pulled me
towards the parking lot. “Don’t even think about it. One of the main reasons I
bought this damn thing is to feel your arms and legs wrapped around me while we
ride. And
its
even better if you’re wearing a skirt.”

I knew better than to think that
he wouldn’t have a line of girls waiting to snuggle up to his chiseled body,
but I was flattered that I was going to be the first on his new toy. At least I
was going to be his first something.

“Seriously, why did you buy the
bike?” I asked.

Mason shrugged his shoulders as if
going out and buying a motorcycle was an everyday occurrence. “I’ve wanted one
for a while so when you said something the other day about how you were
surprised I didn’t have one, it made me wondered why I didn’t. So, I got one.”

“Well, of course you did,” I said
sarcastically. “Did you pick me up a car while you were out?”

“You don’t have a car?”

“Uh, no. My parents thought if I
had a car, there would be a better chance of me sneaking out at night or
running away,” I admitted.

“Wow, that’s so… so weird. You’re
lucky you turned out so normal,” he said with a confused face. I loved Mason’s
honesty and unapologetic comments. Much like a child, the filter from his brain
to his mouth left quite a bit to be desired for many, but I appreciated his
candidness.

“Don’t be so sure that I am all
that normal.”

He kissed me quickly one more time
before throwing his right leg over the bike and starting it. I inhaled sharply
at the sight of him perched on the rumbling Harley. I had been right-it did
complete the package. The vision of Mason sitting on that motorcycle oozed sex
straight from his dark buzzed hair down to the chrome spokes on the wheels. I
unconsciously squeezed my upper thighs together, trying to ease the ache that
emerged.

“Get on, let’s give you your first
motorcycle ride and get some dinner.” He flashed me that panty-dropping smile
and his eyes locked on mine. I happily obliged.

Dinner went much like our
breakfast together had. He took me to his favorite burger place, so it was nice
and casual. We joked around about funny things we lost ourselves in on the
internet
. I admitted my strange obsession with the websites
that showed auto-corrected text conversations. I could spend hours upon hours
reading those and laugh until I was crying. He confessed to spending endless
hours surfing
Youtube
watching anything and
everything. We ranked childhood cartoons and best infomercials. My vote was
still for either the
Shamwow
or the
Ginsu
knives, but Mason was a strong supporter of the Slap
Chop.

Our conversation rarely led us to
discuss our pasts or any serious topics. We openly flirted and without
blatantly engaging in PDA, we would each find an excuse to touch or brush up
against the other. That in itself became a game to see who was willing to go
the furthest without the other acknowledging what was happening. It began
innocent enough with his hand brushing against mine on the table. In response I
crossed my legs so that my foot rested against his calf. We continued the back
and forth and then the next thing I knew, his hand had traveled up my thigh,
under my dress, and was lightly tracing circles on my inner thigh, just inches
from my blue lace panties. I could feel myself getting wet just at the thought
of his fingers touching me, and the fact that we were in public and holding a
normal conversation about which cereal was better, made it even more hot.

I knew my face was flushed, I
could feel the heat as it consumed my body. Mason seemed to like the effect he
was having on me, and when I placed my hand to a similar place on his leg, I
felt that he was experiencing similar effects. He leaned in towards me and said
lowly, “If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m not going to be able to walk out
properly.”

I
smiled,
I liked knowing that I drove him crazy with want. I moved my lips about a half
an inch from his and whispered, “What are we waiting for?” He stood up
instantly, grabbed several twenties out of his wallet, and threw them on the
table. I knew that was way too much money for what we had eaten, but Mason
obviously didn’t feel like waiting for the bill. He grabbed my hand and led me
out of the restaurant and to the Harley. I wasn’t sure what it was about him,
but being around him made me lose most of my sexual inhibitions and want to try
all kinds of nasty things
I
had only read and
fantasized about.

Mason’s apartment was less than
ten minutes away, and when we arrived I was pleasantly surprised. The brick
complex appeared to have been newer construction and was very well kept. He
lived on the top floor of a
three story
building. The
interior was decorated in a simple, contemporary style and was exceptionally
clean. Again he knew exactly what I was thinking while I looked around, and
said, “I have a weekly housekeeper and she was just here today.”

I laughed, “Well that explains it.
I was wondering if you were an OCD clean freak or something.”

“Nah, I’m not a slob or anything,
but I’m not into mopping floors or scrubbing toilets.” He grabbed my hand in his
and said, “We can do the grand tour later,
first
you
need to see my bedroom.” I allowed him to pull me down the short hallway and
into his room, which was amazing. He had a huge California king bed with all
white bedding that stood out against the deep cherry wood of the furniture. It
sat high off the floor and I thought I
may
actually
have to crawl up into it. There was a collage of black and white photographs of
different guitars on the wall opposite the bed. Gauzy white curtains framed the
large window and a large white rug spread across most of the hardwood floor.