727 Cumming Ave. (Cherry Falls)

“Cheers,” I respond flatly as I bring the glass up and hesitate, the smell of the liquid turning my stomach.

I’m not averse to alcohol. Not in theory, anyway. My mom has her affinity for white wine and fruity-flavored hard seltzer, and she’s never been overly strict about it. If I wanted to try it she’d let me, but I’ve never had more than a sip.

“Bottoms up,” Greg says, his eyes already glazed as he waits for me to drink. “It’s tradition, birthday girl shoots the whole drink in one go. Ready, set…”

As the cool liquid grazes my top lip, there’s a shout and a scream from outside, then the kitchen door flies open, banging against the wall, and the glass is snatched from my hand. I hear the sound of breaking glass and ice cubes hitting the linoleum floor as I squeal in shock, looking up to see…him.

Mason.

He’s here.

He shoves himself between me and Greg as the other four come racing up the back porch stairs toward the door. He shoots them a look and they stall for a second.

“What’s going on?” I blurt, my eyes darting to the open door, then to where Greg and Mason are nearly chest to chest.

Mason shoots me a look, and my belly twists and curls. His eyes are on fire. I’ve seen them flicker on occasion, when we are in class and someone’s ringtone cuts through the silence, but that’s a dull glow. This is all-out inferno. His gaze is possessive, primal, like he’s protecting his own. Like this is his home and they are the intruders. And in my heart, it’s a look I’ve wanted to see since the first time I saw his face on the screen.

“What’s going on, is they’re leaving.” Mason’s voice is a near growl. Greg sniffs, glaring at him, but neither of them move. “You know why, so if you’re smart, you’ll get your little posse here and disappear. Or do you need some encouragement?”

Mason runs the back of his hand over his chin as my breath comes faster and faster, a heavy sort of mist filling the air of the small kitchen. I could look at him for hours, and well…I have. In class, on the computer monitor…I’ve memorized every dark hair on his head and the short near beard that covers his jaw. The way his lips move when he talks, imagining how they would feel pressed against mine.

As much as I want whatever this moment is to be over, I also want it to never end.

“Fuck off,” Greg seethes. “We were invited. Right?” He looks at me and I gasp as Mason brings a hand to his throat, slamming him back against the cabinets.

The others start to shout and come through the door, and I’m not entirely sure what’s happening here but I do know I’m going to have Mason’s back. I grab the edge of the wooden door, flinging it closed, then throw myself into it with a grunt, slamming it shut to their shocked screams and curse words, then turning the deadbolt as they cuss at me through the glass.

Honey badger is coming out on top today, it seems.

The next few minutes are a blur of adrenaline and hope. Mason tells me to stay put as he extricates them all from the premises. I hear shouts, lots of fuck you’s, then the sound of the red truck’s engine and the squeal of the tires as it peels out.

I’m frozen in place as Mason comes back through the front door, running a hand through his hair with rage still in his eyes, his muscles tight, jaw locked.

“What…I don’t…what’s going on?” I stammer.

“They spiked your drink.”

“They did…what?” My mind is racing along with my pulse. “How do you know?”

He closes his eyes on a growl that sounds like it’s painfully stuck in his throat as I look to see his fists balled at his sides. “Because I was watching, little flame. Listening. I was coming through the backyard, I heard them through the window.”

Little shocks like fireworks explode inside my brain as I try to process what he’s saying. “And they…they spiked my drink?”

“They’re lucky I let them live,” he mutters, almost to himself, like he’s still weighing that as an option. And the homicidal fury I see in his dark eyes tells me it’s no idle threat. He draws a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, the hard cut of his pectorals visible in the stretched gray t-shirt fabric across his chest, then shakes his head. “But if I killed them, there would be the chance I’d not be able to be here…with you.”

“With me?”

He steps forward, so fucking sexy as he takes my face between his enormous hands. I should back up, he’s my teacher, but he’s so close. I want him to kiss me like I have since the first time I saw him.