Read Online The Valentine's Dare (The Sycamore Serial Book 1) by Nicolette Owens - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nicolette Owens
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melting.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tender
Mason had quite the skill with an Ace bandage.
Kierra watched as he carefully iced for a moment, then removed the ice pack and began wrapping the ankle to support it, his cool fingers a welcome balm against the swelling.
“I swear you have practice at this or something,” she said, observing the way his fingers danced across her skin.
“Something like that,” Mason said, his voice soft. “I’ve changed quite a few bandages in my life.”
“How so?”
He glanced up at her, something odd in his expression. “Just sports injuries and such. I’m a bit of a klutz myself. In fact I’m shocked I’m not the one who fell down the hill.”
“I’m not,” she said. “If it was bound to happen to anyone, it was going to be me.”
There was a lull for a moment as he tightened the bandage a bit and tapped it shut. “There, all good. The compression should help keep the swelling down. You may want a brace for it if you’re going to keep trying to put weight on it, though.”
Kierra laughed softly. “I promise not to run up any stairs anytime soon.”
“Oh, stair running is fine. Just don’t leap out of any windows,” he said, a smile dancing across his lips. “Do you want anything to drink or eat? As long as we’re sitting out of the physical activity, we may as well enjoy it.”
“Well…” Kierra trailed off for a moment, weighing her desire to stay versus her desire not to become entangled in anything as romantic and complicated as Mason. Face it, you’re not exactly unentangled at the moment anyway, she thought. “You could go back to the scavenger hunt if you’d like. I’m sure you could join up with them if you call Finn and find out where they are.”
“Nah. To be honest, I just wasn’t into this week’s scavenger hunt. Too many hills for my taste.” Walking to the kitchen, Mason took out two tall glasses and opened the fridge door. “We have water, orange juice, what I think is melted Jell-O shots, and some margarita mixer.”
“I’ll just have water, thanks.”
“I’m gonna get you some snacks, too.”
She watched him for a moment as he busied himself around the spacious fourth floor kitchen he had. No one else seemed to be home; maybe his roommates were out enjoying the temporarily warmer weather, or maybe they just stayed in their rooms. Either way, Kierra felt a strange, safe calmness when she was alone with him. Now that she’d blocked Brooks' number from her phone, she knew that his calls - and memories of him - weren’t going to interrupt and ruin her day. For the first time in a while, she felt both cared for and utterly content.
Mason returned from the kitchen with a bad of cheese puffs, two bars of chocolate, and some beef jerky. “Guy kitchen,” he said apologetically as he handed over her glass of water. “We don’t really have anything healthy.”
“You’re making the classic assumption that I eat anything healthy. I’m proud to tell you that I’m health food free since ’93.”
He cocked an eyebrow at that. “’93? Really?”
“It rhymes.”
“Fair enough.” Mason took a seat next to her on the couch and started fiddling with the armrest. He seemed preoccupied for some reason, like he had something on his mind.
For a moment they stewed in awkward silence, neither of them saying anything. Then Kierra reached forward to grab a snack, and at the same time Mason reached forward, so they collided from wrist to shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand back. Kierra stared at his face, so close and so handsome.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, watching as his eyes darted to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “I forgot what I was even reaching for.”
“Yeah.”
The tension was palpable. Mason didn’t lean back. Kierra didn’t lean back either. Instead she licked her lips.
In response, he leaned forward.
They met like two supernovas colliding in the empty void of space: inevitably,
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tender
Mason had quite the skill with an Ace bandage.
Kierra watched as he carefully iced for a moment, then removed the ice pack and began wrapping the ankle to support it, his cool fingers a welcome balm against the swelling.
“I swear you have practice at this or something,” she said, observing the way his fingers danced across her skin.
“Something like that,” Mason said, his voice soft. “I’ve changed quite a few bandages in my life.”
“How so?”
He glanced up at her, something odd in his expression. “Just sports injuries and such. I’m a bit of a klutz myself. In fact I’m shocked I’m not the one who fell down the hill.”
“I’m not,” she said. “If it was bound to happen to anyone, it was going to be me.”
There was a lull for a moment as he tightened the bandage a bit and tapped it shut. “There, all good. The compression should help keep the swelling down. You may want a brace for it if you’re going to keep trying to put weight on it, though.”
Kierra laughed softly. “I promise not to run up any stairs anytime soon.”
“Oh, stair running is fine. Just don’t leap out of any windows,” he said, a smile dancing across his lips. “Do you want anything to drink or eat? As long as we’re sitting out of the physical activity, we may as well enjoy it.”
“Well…” Kierra trailed off for a moment, weighing her desire to stay versus her desire not to become entangled in anything as romantic and complicated as Mason. Face it, you’re not exactly unentangled at the moment anyway, she thought. “You could go back to the scavenger hunt if you’d like. I’m sure you could join up with them if you call Finn and find out where they are.”
“Nah. To be honest, I just wasn’t into this week’s scavenger hunt. Too many hills for my taste.” Walking to the kitchen, Mason took out two tall glasses and opened the fridge door. “We have water, orange juice, what I think is melted Jell-O shots, and some margarita mixer.”
“I’ll just have water, thanks.”
“I’m gonna get you some snacks, too.”
She watched him for a moment as he busied himself around the spacious fourth floor kitchen he had. No one else seemed to be home; maybe his roommates were out enjoying the temporarily warmer weather, or maybe they just stayed in their rooms. Either way, Kierra felt a strange, safe calmness when she was alone with him. Now that she’d blocked Brooks' number from her phone, she knew that his calls - and memories of him - weren’t going to interrupt and ruin her day. For the first time in a while, she felt both cared for and utterly content.
Mason returned from the kitchen with a bad of cheese puffs, two bars of chocolate, and some beef jerky. “Guy kitchen,” he said apologetically as he handed over her glass of water. “We don’t really have anything healthy.”
“You’re making the classic assumption that I eat anything healthy. I’m proud to tell you that I’m health food free since ’93.”
He cocked an eyebrow at that. “’93? Really?”
“It rhymes.”
“Fair enough.” Mason took a seat next to her on the couch and started fiddling with the armrest. He seemed preoccupied for some reason, like he had something on his mind.
For a moment they stewed in awkward silence, neither of them saying anything. Then Kierra reached forward to grab a snack, and at the same time Mason reached forward, so they collided from wrist to shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand back. Kierra stared at his face, so close and so handsome.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, watching as his eyes darted to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “I forgot what I was even reaching for.”
“Yeah.”
The tension was palpable. Mason didn’t lean back. Kierra didn’t lean back either. Instead she licked her lips.
In response, he leaned forward.
They met like two supernovas colliding in the empty void of space: inevitably,
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