Page 32 of Fun and Games

"They're the best," he said, eyes lighting up. "They're so full of energy, always so excited about everything. They always look happy to see you."

"You said before that you always wanted a pet, right?" I asked. "But your parents didn't let you."

Mason paused, hands going still in the middle of turning an Allen key.

"Yeah," he said briefly. "Too much work, they said." He gave me a brief smile before going back to screwing something in. But behind that smile was something almost despondent. It must have bothered him more than he'd let on.

My phone pinged with a notification. Heart leaping, I reached into my pocket to grab it. It was the sound my phone made when my favorite blogs updated.

I tapped to scroll through until I found Rogue on the Road's account. My mouth dipped down into a disappointed frown. Still nothing.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket.

Some people followed actors or models on photo sharing sites, obsessed with their every move, but I followed this guy.

The beautiful photos, his thoughtful captions… His updates had always been the highlight of my day. They'd always inspired me to go on my own adventures. To see those places for myself.

David had always wanted us to see those places together.

Then he got sick and all our plans changed.

My fists curled. I cast my eyes about the room, looking for a distraction.

"I think that screw goes in here," I told Mason, handing him a tiny metal bit.

When we were done assembling the furniture, I sat back on my hands and let out a heavy breath.

"Well, that sucked," Mason said. "Remind me to never buy IKEA furniture."

"It wasn't that bad," I told him.

He shot me a look of disbelief.

"All right, so it kind of sucked," I caved.

He stood from where he'd been kneeling on the floor and surveyed our work with a nod.

"I do feel a sort of satisfaction, though," he said. "Putting together something with my own two hands feels good. I mostly stick to numbers, spreadsheets and contracts. It's nice to do some physical activity for a change."

"You like physical activity, do you?" I asked. "Maybe you and I should do some more of it."

Mason threw me a smirk and came over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"You're insatiable," he said.

"I am," I agreed. "If you have the rest of the day off, why don't we—"

My stomach grumbled loudly, surprising the both of us with how angry and violent it sounded.

"You must be starving," Mason said. "You only had coffee this morning. Why don't we get some food first before we continue that physical activity you mentioned?"

"Are you sure you're free?" I asked. "You don't have to get back to the bar?"

Mason tugged me to his side and curled his hand around my hip.

"I've got all day," he said.

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