Louder Than Words (Fall For Me) Read online

  “Oh.” All the air is knocked out of me. I swear. I slink back in my chair, turning away from him. “Okay,” I whisper. “Right.”

  The thing is, I was starting to remember last night a little clearer—remember all of it. The dancing. And the way he made me feel wrapped in his arms.

  “Summer. You were drugged and hazy … and drugged.”

  I look up at the ceiling, then back at him. “Did you like it?”

  I ask—have to know—because it sure didn’t seem like that at the party—that my kiss would be gross to him. Far from it.

  When he doesn’t answer, only stares at me, I ask again. “Did you like my kiss?”

  “Summer, don’t do this.”

  “Did you want to kiss me back?”

  His jaw muscles tick. But his answer is another slow nod.

  Tingles gush through me.

  “Do you want to kiss me now?”

  “Stop, Summer.”

  I lean towards him, run my fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes. I kiss his lips softly and I hear him moan, just slightly, but he sounds tortured … or tantalized.

  It’s shocking that this is Mason—big, tough Mason—and his lips are so soft. And wonderful. I’ve never felt such perfect, kissable lips before. Never. Not in my whole, entire life of kissing. It’s just like in my dreams. Only … Mason doesn’t kiss me back. At all. He sits motionless … as though he’s stopped breathing. But I can feel his heart pounding in his chest, pounding hard.

  But he Doesn’t. Kiss. Me. Back.

  Reluctantly, I pull my hands out of his soft hair and look up at him curiously. “Did you like that?”

  He licks his lips, making them glisten, then nods his head, so slight.

  Heat rips through my body and I’m completely breathless—because what I see in his eyes is pure hunger. It makes my insides tremble and my brain melt to goo.

  Mason cups my chin. My heart pounds and my pulse thumps and I’m seeing stars. “I liked it a lot, Summer,” he whispers in my ear. “But is that really what you want?”

  CHAPTER 19

  Up in my room, I pace. I know I’ve crossed a line. I’m a weird-o idiot. I kissed my brother. Okay, he’s not really my brother. He’s not even my stepbrother. But in a way he’s more than that. In a way, Mason is my everything—my protector, my brother, my friend. And I blew it. I kissed him. Kissed him when he didn’t even want me to. And he didn’t kiss me back. Because it was wrong to do it. And I’m an idiot.

  I don’t even know why I did it. Was I just curious to see what Mason’s lips would feel like? Was I “experimenting”? Or was it more just because he said it would be gross to kiss me? Maybe I had to prove to him that it wouldn’t be—that sounds like me. Only … yeah. He didn’t kiss me back. So maybe it was gross to him.

  Whatever.

  What I’m really worrying about—really and truly—is that maybe (maybe!!) I kissed him just because I wanted to make sure I could wield some sort of power over big, tough Mason. Work him up a bit. Geez, I sure hope it wasn’t that. I hope, I hope, I hope.

  Mason means way too much to me to play around like that … only is that what I did?

  I scrambled up from the kitchen table as soon as Mason had asked me if that’s really what I wanted—him to like my kiss. He had gotten a phone call right at that moment, been distracted, and I bolted up to my room.

  Now I’m pacing. And shaking. What have I done? I’ve ruined everything! I can’t go around kissing Mason. That was so much a mistake. A crazy, crazy mistake.

  CHAPTER 20

  Mason

  It took everything I had inside me to keep from kissing Summer back. I knew if I did—if I let myself kiss her, I’d never stop. And I knew she didn’t want that. I had no idea what she actually wanted, but it wasn’t that.

  Summer was too pretty for her own good. Too tempting. She drove guys wild—and that was when she didn’t even try.

  But that kiss—oh my gosh. Summer didn’t know what she was doing to me—she had no idea. If she hadn’t stopped when she did, I was going to tangle my hands in that soft blond hair of hers and kiss her until we both couldn’t breathe. Man, I couldn’t even breathe as it was. I’d sat there in some sort of heaven in hell. I mean, the kiss had been heaven, but keeping my hands off her had been hell. And when she stopped kissing me—pure torture. I swear, I could have bashed my head through the nearest wall.

  Thank the stars, this chick, Roxy, I met at the last hockey game called me when she did—right after the kiss. Otherwise, I was going to call Summer out on the make-out—and that would have been bad. Whatever’s going on with us—Summer and me—we aren’t ready for it. Well, she’s not ready for it. I’ve been ready a while now. Waiting. Hoping. Praying. And that kiss sure didn’t help settle me down. It gave me a taste of what I’ve been longing for. But the thing is, it’s not the same for Summer. Summer is restless. She doesn’t know what she wants.

  It’s just unfortunately, I do—Summer.

  So, I took off when Roxy called (not that Summer stuck around to notice). Summer ran upstairs, breaking my heart.

  All I know now is, I’ve got to keep away from Summer.

  Until she knows what she wants.

  CHAPTER 21

  SUMMER

  After I did the phenomenal stupid mistake of kissing Mason, he avoided me. Not that he seemed to want to be around me much lately anyway—I mean, even before the kiss. He was always running off with other girls ever since he’d been sick a couple months ago. I have no idea what that was about—his sudden interest in every party girl on the planet. But I knew what his avoiding me now was about—my stupid kiss.

  And boy! It was stupid to kiss him. Now I didn’t just have to dream about it. Now I knew what his soft, dreamy lips felt like—heaven. And other boys’ lips were so not. They were too wet, or too dry, or chap or hard or … whatever. They weren’t Mason’s perfect, luscious lips … so they sucked.

  Believe me, I tried to find some other great lips, though. Tried hard. It wasn’t like I wanted to fantasize about Mason kissing me with those amazing, dewy lips. I didn’t. At all. It was embarrassing. And so not like me. If I want a boy, I get him. I just do. But with Mason it was different. Of course. I couldn’t go after him. Mason was totally off limits.

  So, I had planned to avoid him every chance I got … until I realized he was avoiding me. That changed things.

  Finally, almost a whole, entire month later, I called him out about the kiss.

  “So … what?” I said as I watched him ignore me in the kitchen as he made a thick, meaty sandwich. “Now you’re never going to look at me?”

  His hands stilled. And his brow rose.

  He gave me a lazy grin, cocking his head towards me. “I’ll look at you, Summer. Is that really what you want? Me ogling you?”

  Ugh. Okay, he had me. Now it seemed more like he was calling me out. He wasn’t putting out mixed signals—I was. If he ogled—no, I wouldn’t want that. Definitely. No. But I didn’t like being ignored either.

  I drew out a breath. “Mason, I miss you.”

  “Summer,” his voice went gentle. “I’m right here.”

  I knew he understood—even if his words didn’t make it sound that way.

  I swallowed. “But … it was like I used to be special to you.”

  His eyes stared into mine, unwavering. “You’re still special to me, Summer.”

  “But before I kissed you—it was like I was your favorite.”

  He said softly, “You’re still my favorite.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “But you get guys too easy. You don’t know what you want—” then he added quickly, “—and don’t tell me it’s me. If you do, I swear—I’m going to do things you don’t want me to do. Start saying things you don’t want me to say. Summer … you can’t play around with me. I live here.”

  Just then he got a phone call. From a girl. Of course.

  His eyes flickered to me. “Look, I’m going to take this call,
Summer.” A lock of his hair fell over his right eye. His fingers weaved through the strands as his gaze stayed locked on mine. He raised his brow. “It doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite—it just means this is someone I can touch.”

  CHAPTER 22

  So, almost an entire year went by like that—Mason avoiding me. And me … confused. Desperately. I missed him so much. Just hanging with him. Keeping him company while he practiced making shots, or at the batting cages, or going to him for advice when I had a problem with a guy. (Which by the way, I always did. Constantly. Have problems with guys, I mean. Maybe because of him—Mason. I mean, maybe I subconsciously compared every guy to him and they just didn’t measure up. Well, anyway, I was starting to worry that was my problem—that I had a bizarre “thing” for Mason that was boarding on insanity. I mean, ’cause, you know, I knew I could never have him. Because he was basically my brother … just not quite.)

  I stared at him now in the kitchen as I waited for my insta-tan to dry. He was slathering a mound of ketchup and cheese-glop on his heaping plate of French fries.

  “That’s gross,” I informed him.

  “Yeah well, that’s—” he gestured to my bikini clad body, “—not.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. Oh!!

  “I was just trying to get an indoor tan—before I hit the hot tub.” With Justin. (I didn’t add that last part—the Justin part. Mason and I never talked about who we were dating anymore. Him, because I think he knew I didn’t want to hear about it due to severe trauma to my heart. I’m not sure why I didn’t tell him about my dates, though. Just because … I guess. I really wasn’t quite sure why. The topic just seemed kind of taboo. Or anyway, hard to choke out.)

  I went on to explain, my face still burning hot, “The tan stuff needs to sink into my skin. I didn’t want to get my clothes all sticky.”

  I rambled on and on, trying to explain why I was standing in the kitchen at seven-thirty—at night—in a bikini.

  Inwardly, I groaned. Then grimaced. “Should I change?

  Mason didn’t look up from his magazine. “If you don’t want me ogling you.”

  My lips parted.

  A hint of a grin played at the corners of his gorgeous mouth, though his long-lashed eyes stayed locked on his magazine. His brow rose. “Look, just fair warning.”

  Ugh! I was going to get all sticky. I was not looking forward to it. “Do you want me to change?”

  His lips twitched another adorable grin. “Is that a trick question?” His eyes danced as he finally looked up at me. “Look Summer, I’m a guy. I know you don’t think of me that way—usually. But I’m not related to you … and you’re not exactly unattractive.”

  I could feel myself blush. I couldn’t help it. And I couldn’t help being flattered—whether he was teasing me or not. I mean, Mason was a total hottie. And dated girls older than him. Girls out of high school. In fact, I didn’t even really think he looked at high school girls anymore. Not as more than just little toys.

  I mean, there was a time he had said he liked my kiss—that he wanted to kiss me back—but that was a long time ago. And he’d changed a lot. Got all this experience with older girls, while all I’d done was had bad experience after bad experience with stupid, immature high school boys—players and dogs.

  So, I didn’t feel Mason and I were on the same level. Not when it came to dating or experience or attraction.

  So, yeah, his teasing gaze had me on fire.

  Thank goodness, my cell phone buzzed right then.

  For once it was me that got a call to interrupt our conversation. And it was from a boy—Justin. My date for tonight. He was having me and some friends over to hang out in his indoor hot tub while we watched movies (in his indoors hot tub!!) And we were going to play pool and air-hockey and all the other fun things he had in his family’s fancy recreation room. I was stoked.

  “Who was that?” Mason asked when I got off the phone. “You look sad.”

  I sighed. “I am. Wanna go dancing?”

  A smile crept at the corners of his mouth. “I could do that.”

  “Um …”—deep blush—“ … would you mind pretending to be my date again?”

  His smile didn’t fall. It just sort of twitched, like the idea was amusing. “I could do that, too.”

  I’m sure right at that moment he was thinking of me exactly as a little kid sister—one that was forever needing petty little nerdy fake dates. Groan.

  The thing was, Justin had called me to tell me he didn’t think I should come over. My latest ex-boyfriend, Ian, had called Justin and told him that I didn’t really like him (Justin) that I was just using him (Justin) to get over Ian. Which I so totally wasn’t. I was so far “over” Ian that I never even gave him a second thought. But I didn’t want to get into that with Justin. If he wasn’t going to trust me—that I was over Ian, then well, I didn’t want to deal with it. There was too much drama with ex’s and soon-to-be-ex’s in my life. It was bringing me down, big time.

  So, that might have explained why I looked so sad—that and because I love indoor hot tubs. But to top off my look of sadness, right after Justin called—cancelling our date (though it was more like he just wanted me to reassure him that I was totally into him, but I couldn’t exactly do that because, well … I couldn’t) but anyway, right after his phone call, Ian texted me. It said, “Big plans for tonight?”

  Like he knew he got Justin to cancel on me. And that he was able to ruin my night.

  I texted Ian back now, “Yeah. I have big plans. Huge plans. I’m going with my DATE dancing!” Then I added a texted happy face, and the biting (to Ian) words: “Life is AWESOME.”

  Ian texted me back. Immediately. “Where are you going dancing at with your ‘date’?”

  He put the word “date” in quotes. Like he didn’t believe I really had one. Like not even I could come up with one so fast.

  I let out an exasperated breath, then replied, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re going to be dancing up a sweat at Becca’s party.”

  “I’m going there,” Ian texted back. “I’ll see you with your ‘date’.”

  “Why??? It will just make you cry. Stay home and save yourself from jealousy and sorrow. I repeat: Stay home, Ian.”

  “Only if you’ll come over.”

  I blinked at the strange message. I mean, What the—???

  What a weirdo. First he tried to ruin my plans, and now what was his message supposed to mean?

  Boys are weird. And creepy. Bleck.

  “Look, Summer, you don’t have to make up a date,” Ian texted after only a brief moment. “Just come over. I miss you.”

  I blinked again.

  Ian was cute—extremely handsome in fact. And the captain of our school’s basketball team. But apparently, he had taken one too many basketballs to the head. Either that—or he believed what all the little freshmen and sophomore girls whispered about him. But those girls were inexperienced—and had never actually dated the jerk.

  “You’re delusional,” I texted quickly. “First you try to ruin my night—then you tell me you miss me and want me to come over???? Don’t go to the party, Ian … go to the doctor. Get your head checked.”

  “Wow. You really don’t want me to go to that party. Why is that, Summer? I’m going to go there, though. Definitely. To see you and your ‘date’.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  CHAPTER 23

  “Don’t freak out, but I’m going to kiss you,” I whispered to Mason as we slow danced close and comfy at Becca’s party.

  It was because of Ian (really!). He kept smirking at me, and when I first got to the party, he was all “This is your ‘date’?” He breathed out a cackle. “Isn’t he your brother?”

  “Actually, no,” I told Ian, completely honest.

  But yeah, things weren’t going as smoothly—or convincingly—as they had at Kirstin’s party for Clark … almost a year ago. Of course, that had
a lot to do with the fact Kirstin and Clark hadn’t gone to our school, and everyone at Becca’s party did.

  Still, I refused to let that little fact get in the way of my hopeless, stupid pride. I was on a (fake) date, dang it!! And everyone was going to believe it!! (Well, believe the date part.)

  So, by the hand, I led Mason away from cackling Ian and over to where everyone was dancing. And then I proceeded to act like I was totally in love (playing with Mason’s soft, gorgeous hair and snuggling up to him close, close, close—totally breathing him in). Only, Ian didn’t seem to be buying it. He just kept watching me, with that stupid smirk on his face.

  Well, I wanted to shock that smirk right off him—show him Mason wasn’t my brother doing me a favor. That he was my date. And we were totally hot for each other, and I was glad I didn’t get to go over Justin’s and hang out in his fancy indoor hot tub and play pool while we rocked to his awesome surround sound.

  I whispered to Mason, “I mean, really kiss you—on the mouth.”

  I hadn’t explained to Mason about Ian—none of it—but I was pretty sure Mason got the gist of what was going on from Ian’s cackling at the door. Plus, Mason just knows things. He picks up on details that others miss—like reality and stuff.

  Mason gave a soft laugh when I whispered to him my kiss warning. His lips quirked an amused grin and he whispered back, “I think I can handle it.”

  Yeah, I was pretty sure he could. After all, he had random hockey groupies sticking their tongues down his throat on a nightly basis. He didn’t actually take mackin’ too seriously. Or seriously at all. Making out was like breathing to him—just something he did without giving it a second thought.

  So, though in the very, very back of my mind I remembered what happened the last time I kissed Mason—that it totally screwed up our relationship—I knew that wouldn’t really be a problem this time. First of all, Mason and I no longer had much of a relationship anymore to screw up, and second of all, my high-school-girl hearts-and-candy kiss would in no way make a blip on Mason’s radar or compare to his usual nightly make-outs.