Resist (London) (8 page)

I’m sure she probably
knew that was the reason, but she never argued about it anyway. Everyone loves to feel like the centre of attention, even if it is just for one day a year!

Whilst I was sorting through ideas in my head, relaxing in the rare peace and quiet of the apartment, I screamed bloody murder when I heard, “
Yo babe, you in there?” shouted through the door.

No one was supposed to be there.

“What the fuck Mase? You gave me a freakin’ heart attack! What are you doing here? Thought you had a meeting or something?” I exclaimed.

He didn’t answer. He opened the fucking door!

While I was in the bath!

And strolled right on through! He put the toilet seat down and sat on the lid, looking over at me as though he hadn’t just strolled right on through and sat down...when I was in the bath...
totally naked!

“Meeting was cancelled, thought we could go grab
something to eat?” He suggested, with a shrug.

“Get
out!
” I screeched... “I’m in the fuckin’ bath. You can’t just walk in. I’m naked!” I explained, though frankly, he should have known.

Of course he knew.

“Yeah, I got that. No worries babe, I’ve seen it all before.” He winked at me and I froze.

Mother fucker! Since when has it been ok for a man to walk in on a female
friend
, or any friend for that matter, that you’ve known just over a month? Since never! The audacity of it!

“No Mase, get...out! You can’t sit in here.”

I didn’t know what he thought he was doing. He stood up, and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief...when he sat back down. I frowned, then he did it again, got up, sat back down. I scrunched up my nose and felt my frown deepen.

What the fuck was he doing?!

I still watched him. He lifted the toilet seat, put it back down, knocked on the lid, wiggled it about a bit, then he sat again, bounced up and down on it a few times and declared, “You’re wrong, pretty sure I can sit here.”

Dickhead.

Complete and total dick...head.

“You...are...not...funny, Mason” I began. “I clearly didn’t mean you
can’t
sit there. I mean, you can’t sit there right
now.
While I’m in the bath! I want you to go wait in the living room.” I said, trying to keep my voice firm, because yeah he shouldn’t have been in there, but he was kinda funny.

Argh!

He shrugged and got up, muttering ‘fair enough’.

Seriously!

He didn’t leave straight away though, he stepped closer to the bath, blatantly ran his eyes down the length of my body, which was at that point, barely concealed by the remaining bubbles, then gave out a low whistle under his breath, winked again and said,

“Damn, forgot just how good that body is. See you in a few gorgeous...enjoy your bath!”

Then he turned and went to leave, but he didn’t make it before I swung my hand through the water, splashing it as hard as I could in his direction and soaked his back.

“Don’t look at my body you fuckin’ pervert!” I shouted.

He didn’t respond. Just laughed at me. He knew I was lying, he wasn’t a pervert, he was just Mason. Also, he was right, he had seen it all before. Still, I wasn’t aware that gave him the right to be looking at me like that!

I dried myself off quickly and pulled on the same clothes I’d been wearing earlier in the day. No point changing, I had no plans to go anywhere
.

That...didn’t exactly go to plan.

See, I walked in the living room and threw my wet towel at Mason’s head...I missed, he laughed...I carried on through to the kitchen. It wasn’t much of a kitchen, it was tiny. You could fit two people in it at one time, maximum
.

But it was cos
y, homely, and for the entire year ...mine
.

I started digging around and found out the bread, cheese and went searching for the toastie maker. As I said, I’m not the tidiest of people, and the same applied in the kitchen. Nothing had a home, everything was everywhere, and up until Mason had forced his way into my life, the dishes were rarely cleaned. But seeing as Mason had tidied up and put everything away, I could never find anythin
g.

“Mase, where have you put the toastie maker
” I called, then I waited for a response. It came from right behind me, and shit the life out of me!

“Why you looking for that?
” He asked.

“Fuck sake! Don’t sneak up on me! And I’m asking because I’m making cheese toasties!”

“Did you not listen to what I said a minute ago in the bathroom? We’re going out for something to eat!”

“We are?”

“Yep”

Now, usually, I’d have told him to take a running jump, for telling me what to do. B
ut in all honesty, I was hungry.

“Oh, well, okay then!
Where we going?”

“Amore”

I had to admit, it was a good choice. I’d only ever been once, for my birthday the previous year, and Taylor had paid. Never, could I have afforded that place. It was expensive, but worth it. It was a cutesy little Italian restaurant near the town centre, pretty sure it was owned by some famous chef, but I couldn’t tell you who.

We were seated straight away, which was definitely odd considering
there’d usually be at least an hour wait if you hadn’t reserved a table before. Then again, this was Mason, and like I said, he thought he owned the world, so it wasn’t surprising that people treated him as such.

They sat us in a booth right at the back of the restaurant,
it was slightly too
romantic
for my liking, but I went with it anyway. It was decorated with red suede seats, patterned glass screens surrounded by deep, rich brown wooden frames that matched the table and a single red candle in a silver holder sat in the middle.

Definitely too romantic.

We were served by an older guy, I would guess to be in his late forties
.
Never really been good with ages! He walked us to our table, handed us a menu each, then turned and addressed Mason. Not me...
Mason.

“Would you like to see the wine list sir?”

Sir? You’re old enough to be his dad!

Mason looked to me and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if
I
would like to see the wine list, but I’m not a ‘wine-list’ kind of girl so I replied, “No thanks, I wouldn’t mind taking a look at the cocktail menu though.”

The waiter looked practically aghast at my request, then raised his chin slightly and declared, “We do
not
serve cocktails in this establishment.”

I didn’t get a chance to reply because Mason, still looking at me, ignoring the waiter, asked, “W
hat cocktail would you want Sunshine?”

I thought on this, and probably should have thought a little longer before I answered...
“A screaming orgasm.”

Mason’s eyes darkened and he visibly swallowed a couple of times. I watched as he clenched his teeth and took a deep breath through his nose, then turned back to waiter and asked, “Do you have
a good quality vodka?”

“Well yes of course, but...”

“Do you have Baileys?”

“Yes sir, we do but...”

“Do you have a coffee liquor?” He spoke over the waiter again. I had to bite my lip to prevent a giggle. It was rude, he shouldn’t have done it, but it was still funny.

“Yes sir, we have
a coffee liquor but...”

“Do you have amaretto?”

“Of course sir...”

“Then regardless of the fact that this
establishment
does not have a cocktail menu, you could make her one anyway yes?”

“Sir, we don’t...” The waiter attempted again, to no avail.

“If you have all the ingredients, and I’m assuming you have ice, then you could make her one anyway...yes?” Mason repeated.

T
he waiters jaw worked back and forth a few times and I was waiting for him to ask us to leave or at least react, he didn’t though. But he did speak through clenched teeth so I knew Mason was testing his patience!

“I can
ask
at the bar.”

“Thank
you, and I’ll take an orange juice.” Mason nodded at the waiter, suggesting we were done so he could leave us to peruse the menu. He did, but not before he sent me a scathing look and huffed out a breath.

As soon as he left, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and a giggle escaped my lips. I held my hand over my mouth so as not to laugh too loud, but if anything it only caused an echo, making it louder. Other patrons turned to look at me but I ignored them, attempting to breathe to calm my laugh.

“Mase! I can’t believe you did that! He barely even got two words in!”

He shrugged,
then answered.

“Babe, he called me ‘
sir
’ when he’s clearly at least twice my age. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke, he looked at me. He looked down his nose at you when you asked for a cocktail, and he definitely thought he was better than you. You shouldn’t have to stand for that. I think I got my point across, and you’ll get the drink you want. Job done.”

Well when he put it like that...who was I to argue?

Doubt that I could have argued at the time anyway seeing as my brain my still processing the fact that he had addressed every point I thought about during the conversation...the ‘sir’ thing, the ‘not even acknowledging my existence’ thing and the ‘looking down at me’ thing. My exact thoughts, he had them too.

Damn.

Moments later, the waiter was back, he placed Mason’s drink on the table murmuring, “Your orange juice, sir.”

Then he looked at the remaining drink on his tray, took a deep breath and spoke to me, while handing me the drink.

“Your...
screaming orgasm
, miss.”

I pressed my lips together in an attempt to prevent yet another giggle at the waiter’s expense, but it was too difficult and I ended up snorting right in his face!

Oh...my...god! I snorted in his face!

He reared back quickly, huffed out a breath
again
, and left. Well, wasn’t that just the snap of the last shred of control I had. I roared with laughter, right in the middle of the
classy
restaurant. I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard.

It was awful! Tears were streaming down my face and I started panting, ju
st trying to take in enough air.

Mase reached across the table and put his hand on my shoulder telling me to
breathe, it was calming, so I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

Every pair of eyes in the place were on me, so I bit my lip and looked down, feeling slightly bad for probably embarrassing Mason with my outburst.

Did he care? Nope.

With my eyes still on the table, I muttered ‘sorry’ under my breath and figured Mason would probably suggest we go somewhere else or just never go out again.

That didn’t happen

I heard chuckling. A masculine rumble of a sound, sexy even. So I chanced a look up at him and watched him shake his head.

“Babe, don’t be sorry! It was fucking funny. Man, life ain’t ever gonna be borin’ when you’re around! Did you see that guy’s face when he said ‘screaming orgasm’! He’s probably never said those two words in his life. Uptight bastard. Only you would come to a place like this, and order a drink like that. Funny, so damn funny!”

I liked that.
A lot. I liked that he didn’t care, and he clearly had my sense of humour. Still...

“But everyone is staring at us.” I pointed out.

“So let ‘em!” He shrugged, then added... “Probably the most action any of these pretentious fuckers have had in years.”

“You really don’t care?” I asked.

“Care? Sunshine...I’d pay to see that again. It was awesome!”

Well then. He didn’t care.
I didn’t care. We waited for dinner.

I stopped when the food arrived and thought about what he’d said. I couldn’t help it. I had to know.

“Mase, why do you call me Sunshine?”

He paused, with his glass half way to his mouth, and put it back down. I watched as he ran his tongue across his teeth and then licked his bottom lip, looking almost nervous.

“Oh, um, no reason, it’s just a nickname.”

Lie. It was obvious.

“You’re lying. Why won’t you tell me?”

He sighed.

“So, that first morning after we met?” I nodded, trying really hard not to think about that morning, or the night before. “Well when I woke up, you were still asleep, but the sun was shining through the window, right across your face and you looked so peaceful, so serene...I guess it just stuck. You looked like pure sunshine.”