(MASON'S POV)
I woke up to this clean, expensive scent drifting through the air. It smelled like smooth, modern wood with something sharper and fresh-spicy underneath it that made my heart do this weird little stutter. It definitely wasn't my room. It didn't smell like my sheets, and it sure as hell wasn't the smell of my actual life.
My eyes flew open in a rush of panic. The ceiling above me was high, dark wood beams with soft recessed lighting that looked like they belonged in some fancy magazine spread. I was lying dead-center in a bed bigger than my whole bedroom, wrapped up in charcoal-gray silk that smelled exactly like him.
Like… Blue.
My stomach dropped straight through the mattress.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh My God!
I bolted upright so fast the whole room spun. Everything from last night crashed back in: how I'd let Blue talk me into sneaking out of the house at midnight, how I'd followed him to that party, the drinks, the way his arms had carried me like I weighed nothing, and how I'd curled into his chest like some pathetic drunk kitten. I'd actually slept here. In his house. In his bed! While my parents thought I was safe at home the whole time.
My hands flew to my pockets—no phone. Of course no phone. I'd left it behind when Blue climbed through my window like a beautiful criminal. My parents would have called. Texted. Probably already sent out a search party. Dad's voice in my head was already roaring: Where the hell were you, you little shit!
"Hey," I heard a voice to my right.
The voice was low, calm, and way too close. My heart slammed against my ribs and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I whipped around.
Blue was sitting on the edge of the bed, already fully dressed for school. He wore a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans that looked insanely good on him. His hair was still damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower.
He looked unfairly perfect—like he'd stepped right out of whatever dream I'd been having before the panic took over. His blue eyes were steady on me, with the faintest hint of amusement at the corners.
"You're panicking," he said, voice soft but certain.
"I—I snuck out," I blurted, voice cracking. "My parents—omg they're going to kill me! They probably already called the cops. I've never—Blue, I've never stayed out like this. They're going to think I'm dead or—or worse—"
He reached over and covered my hand with his. His fingers were a little cool against my skin, but the touch felt warm in every way that mattered—steady and completely grounding. Honestly, I didn't want to pull away.
"They won't find out." he said softly.
I stared at him. "You don't know my dad."
"I know you left your house this morning as early as 5 a.m.," he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles once, slow. "And I know there's a note on the kitchen counter saying you rushed to a friend's house to finish a late assignment for today's class. It mentions your phone fell in the toilet, so you had to put it in rice, and your friend's number is right there on the note too. Your mom already called to check, and your friend told her you're safe… even sent a photo as proof."
My mouth opened, then closed again. "What the… I never did any of those things. What are you talking about?"
"I handled it." He shrugged like it was nothing, like fixing my entire life while I was blacked-out drunk was just a regular Tuesday. "You're covered. Now breathe."
I tried. The air still felt too thin. But something in my chest loosened anyway, just enough that I didn't feel like I was about to throw up on his ridiculously expensive sheets.
Then I caught my own reflection in the mirrored closet door across the room. My hair was a total disaster, my eyes were puffy, and yeah, I still smelled like spilled beer and bad decisions from last night. Heat instantly crawled up my neck.
"I look disgusting," I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. "And you're already dressed. How are you already dressed?"
Blue's mouth curved, slow and dangerous. "You look cute."
The word hit me like a slap. Cute. From Blue Gem. The same Blue who used to stare at me in hallways like I was something he might step on if I got too close.
I felt my face burn. "Stop."
"I mean it." His voice dropped, quieter now, almost careful. "You always look cute when you're flustered."
I couldn't even look at him. My heart was doing something stupid and loud in my chest. This wasn't the Blue I knew. The Blue I knew was cold, terrifying, the guy who once had me pinned against bathroom tiles for no reason at all. Not… this. Not someone who smiled nicely at me and left notes and called me cute.
"I need to freshen up," I stammered, already sliding off the bed before I could embarrass myself more.
Blue stood up too, smooth as ever. "Your bath's already drawn. Towels are on the warmer. There's a new toothbrush in the bottom left drawer, and you can use any of the shower products you want. I've got them all."
I stopped halfway to the door, blinking at him. "You… drew me a bath?"
He just tilted his head, like the answer was obvious. "Figured you'd want one."
I didn't know what to say to that. So I didn't say anything. I just fled into the bathroom like a coward. A completely red coward.
I had to hand it to him—the bath was absolutely perfect. It was steaming hot and smelled like rain on pine trees. I sank into it, my bones going completely liquid as I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and tried not to think.
But of course my brain wouldn't shut up.
I couldn't stop remembering the way he'd carried me last night, the way he'd held me at the party like I was something precious. The way his body had felt against mine. The way he was being… nice. Too nice. After years of barely acknowledging I even existed.
I still didn't get any of it. Why was he doing all this? Was it out of pity because of how Caleb had treated me? Or was he trying to make me like him just so he could turn around and call me a disease like Caleb did?
The thoughts kept spinning until I had to physically shake my head to scatter them.
When I finally stepped out, my body felt loose and relaxed, but my mind? That was still a complete mess. Never relaxed. Never.
I wrapped myself in the thick black robe that basically swallowed me whole and padded back into the bedroom. Clothes were already laid out on the bed. Obviously not mine—duh, this wasn't my house. And they definitely weren't Blue's either, because come on, Blue was built like a god and I was… well, me.
Still, I pulled them on, figuring he'd left them for me: a soft charcoal hoodie, perfectly fitted dark jeans, and a crisp white tee. They settled against my skin like they'd been made for me.
A small folded note rested on the pillow: Wear these. They're yours now.
—B
I stared at it until the words blurred.
I quickly styled my hair, making sure it sat perfectly—it was the one feature of my body I was most proud of. Then I left the room and headed downstairs to find Blue.
Downstairs, the smell of breakfast hit me before I even reached the kitchen. Eggs, bacon, fresh coffee—real food, no cereal. It was the kind of breakfast rich people ate in the mornings, the type that made your stomach growl on instinct.
Blue was at the stove, sleeves still rolled up, flipping something in a pan like he did this every morning.
He glanced over when I walked in and smiled—small and warm, the kind of smile that reached his eyes and made the corners crinkle. "Morning, again."
I felt my face heat again. "You made breakfast?"
"Figured you'd be hungry." He pulled out a chair at the long marble island—set for one, with a glass of orange juice already poured. "Sit."
I looked at him skeptically, still trying to figure him out, but I sat down anyway. The plate he slid in front of me looked like something straight from a fancy café. My stomach growled instantly in anticipation and my mouth began to water. I picked up the fork, then hesitated when I realized he wasn't joining me. "Aren't you eating?"
Blue leaned against the counter across from me, arms crossed, watching me with that same intense focus that made my skin feel too tight. "I'm on a special diet." He replied casually.
I snorted before I could stop myself. "No wonder you look like that."
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to die right there on the spot. Heat flooded my cheeks as instant regret crashed over me. But Blue just laughed—quiet, low, and genuinely amused—and the sound did something dangerous to my stomach, sending a warm flutter straight through me that I desperately tried to ignore.
We... I mean I, ate in silence that wasn't really silent. I could feel him watching every bite. Every time I glanced up, his eyes were already on me, steady, like he was memorizing something. It made me shy in a way I hadn't been since I was thirteen. It was a very different kind of shyness, different from the one I felt around Celab. I kept my gaze on my plate, cheeks burning.
"You like it?" he asked after a minute.
I nodded, too fast. "It's really good."
His smile came back, softer this time. "Good."
After breakfast he cleared everything without letting me help, then grabbed my school bag from the counter like it had always been there. "Ready?"
"Wait—how did you get my bag?"
"Took it from your room this morning when I went to set up your back story." He said it so casually, like breaking into my house twice was normal. "Car's waiting."
Outside, he opened the passenger door for me again. I slid in, heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it because he smirked just in time with the beats. The car smelled like him—clean, expensive, safe. When he started the engine, soft music filled the space. It was my playlist. The one I'd made at 2 a.m. months ago and never showed anyone. A normal person should have been freaked out by now but surprisingly, I didn't feel that way.
Blue glanced over, one brow raised. "Sing with me?"
I let out a nervous laugh and shook my head quickly. "No way. I'm way too shy for that. My singing is terrible—I'll ruin it completely."
Blue's grin only grew, soft and teasing. "Come on, Mason. Please? You sang just fine yesterday. Just sing with me."
When I kept shaking my head, cheeks burning, he turned those bright blue eyes on me and actually batted his eyelashes. It was slow, dramatic, and so ridiculously adorable it made my stomach flip. "Pretty please?" he added in that warm, playful voice, like he knew exactly how unfair he was being.
I groaned, fighting a smile, but the way he was looking at me— he's eyes looking so sweet and hopeful and completely unguarded—melted every bit of resistance I had left. "You're impossible, you know that?" I muttered.
He just kept batting those lashes until I finally caved. "Ugh, fine. But if you laugh at me even once, I'm never speaking to you again."
His whole face lit up with the sweetest, most satisfied smile I'd ever seen on him.
We sang the whole way to school—badly, loudly, windows down. For a few minutes the world felt light. Easy. Like maybe I could breathe again.
Then we pulled into the parking lot and every single head turned.
The usual morning chaos—kids slamming car doors, laughing, scrolling through their phones—froze like someone had hit pause. Conversations died mid-sentence. Phones came out in a wave, cameras already flashing. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through dry grass. Blue Gem—Blue Jeremy, the guy who never let anyone into his world—had just dropped off Mason Carter. And it wasn't over yet. He killed the engine, hopped out, and walked around to my side like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushed the small of my back as we headed toward the main doors, light but sure, like it belonged there. Like *I* belonged there with him.
My face burned hotter with every step. I could feel eyes on us from every direction—curious, shocked, jealous. Someone even whistled low under their breath.
Inside the building, I barely made it three steps to my seat before the swarm hit. Five girls and four boys descended on my desk the second I dropped my bag, circling me like I'd just landed from another planet. Blue had already given my shoulder a quick, private squeeze and murmured, "Catch you later," before disappearing toward his own classroom, leaving me to face the inquisition alone.
"Are you and Blue Gem, like… friends now?" the first girl asked, eyes wide and sparkling with gossip-hungry excitement. She leaned so far over my desk her backpack nearly knocked my notebook to the floor. "Like, actual friends? Because no one has ever seen him do this before."
"People are saying you got out of his car," another girl jumped in, practically bouncing on her toes. "Like, his car. Blue never gives anyone rides. Ever. Not even the cheerleaders who've been trying to climb into that passenger seat for years."
A guy from the back of the group smirked, arms crossed. "Yeah, and you two were singing the whole way in? Windows down? We saw the video someone already posted. What's the deal, Carter? You holding out on us?"
How the hell did they already get a video of that?
I mentally cursed Blue for talking me into singing like that. But physically, I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my face was on absolute fire and my heart was doing that stupid stutter again. "He just… saw me on the road this morning. Gave me a lift. No big deal."
The first girl narrowed her eyes, not buying a single word. "On the road? At like, what—seven-thirty? And he just happened to have an extra seat and decided to play chauffeur? Come on, Mason. Spill. Did something happen? Are you guys, like… hanging out now?"
"Yeah, because Blue doesn't do 'just a lift,'" another boy added, grinning like he'd caught me in a lie. "Last time someone asked him for a ride home after practice, he told them to take the bus. Politely, but still."
I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. "Seriously, it's nothing. My ride fell through and he was there. End of story."
They exchanged looks—those skeptical, knowing glances that said they were already texting the group chat about this. One of the girls opened her mouth to push harder, but the bell rang sharp and loud, cutting her off.
"Fine, keep your secrets," she said with a dramatic sigh, but she was smiling as they all started drifting back to their seats. "For now."
They didn't buy it. Not even a little. But at least they left me alone… for the next five minutes, anyway. I sank into my chair, letting out a long breath, my skin still tingling where Blue's hand had been. The whispers in the room hadn't stopped—they'd just gotten quieter. And I had a feeling this was only the beginning of whatever storm we'd just kicked up.