Fallen Crest Home(35)
“Really?” I felt like a parrot.
“I’m not here to talk about my relationship and business,” Heather announced. “I’m here to check in with you.” She eyed the far table where Mason and Adam had set up camp, laptops, books, and notebooks spread out between them. “How’s that going?”
“What do you mean? That Mason’s here to protect me from Caldron? That he and Adam are working together here, or the fact that they’re working together?”
“Any and all of that.”
A customer came up, and I started to fill the order, but I couldn’t help looking back to Mason’s table. After Caldron’s attack, the rest of the week had seemed almost boring. I worked at the beer garden every night, and after the first few passed with no incidents, Petey had relaxed. He realized I wasn’t going to fuck things up for him, and the rest of the workers accepted me once they learned an increase in their tips came with me.
Even Keifer had stopped coming over and glaring at us every night. He still came in, but he only glared half the time. The other half he spent arguing with Petey or laughing with my coworkers. He hadn’t checked in today. Yet. He would, and every time he did, he stared at Mason for a good ten minutes. Mason had stared back the first night, but when Keifer didn’t do anything, Mason stopped paying attention. Or that was how it seemed to everyone else. I knew he was on full alert, and not just because of my boss. He was waiting for Caldron’s next move. So far, nothing had happened.
So far.
It was going to happen, and I knew Mason was also counting down the hours until Nate arrived. He should be rolling into town at any moment.
“Things are okay,” I told Heather.
“Really?” Her eyes found mine.
I shrugged, filling another order. “Well, I can say Mason will be relieved to have Nate here, too.”
Heather waggled her eyebrows. “Where’s the hottie Hawaiian?”
“You should know. He spends more time with you guys than with us.”
That wasn’t completely true. He’d stuck to Mason’s side like glue for the first two days after Caldron’s attack, then began heading to Roussou more and more after that. A certain blonde who had been wrapped around him on Channing’s fight night kept calling. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was wrapping around him on a more consistent basis.
Heather snorted. “Right. He shows up for pussy, then after he gets his fill, he’s off to find you guys.” She turned to Mason’s table. “He’s not here, and I know he’s not with Channing’s crew. He must be at Tiffany’s.”
“That’s her name?”
“Yeah. She’s not bad, actually. But I don’t think she realizes he’s leaving for Cain U in a few weeks for football.”
“Really?”
“She’s not mentioned it, and I know her. If she knew her new boy-toy was a big footballer, that’d be the only thing she talked about.” Heather grew pensive, her eyebrows dipping together. “Why didn’t he go pro?”
“He stayed back to play one more year with Mason.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded and left it at that. Matteo also had a girlfriend who’d broken his heart last year. She’d flown across the nation to pursue law at Columbia while he remained in California. He’d been heartbroken all over again when he realized he was single when Logan was not.
I filled three plastic cups with beer. “I think he’s hoping he’ll get drafted by the same team, but the chances of that are low. I don’t think either is excited to be separated. They’re going to enjoy their last year together on the team.”
Heather seemed like she was going to respond, but then she was distracted as Becky, Cass, and three other girls walked through the beer garden to sit at Mason and Adam’s table.
“What the fuck?” Heather murmured.
I waited, grinning. I knew what would happen next.
Mason didn’t spare them a look, only jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the picnic table behind him. One by one the girls stood, all with varying scowls, and crossed to sit at that table instead. It happened almost every night when Becky and her friends arrived. They were always booted to their own table.
I shook my head. “You’d think they’d learn.” They never did.
Heather didn’t reply, and I looked over to see her and Becky in a heated stare. Becky was holding her own. I expected to see my old friend pale and shaking, but she wasn’t. Her eyes were wide, her lips pressed in a determined line, and she was sitting straight up.
If she’d been my friend, I would’ve been proud.