Page 53 of Summer Lessons

Mason almost snorted curried rice up his nose, and then, given the color, was just as glad he hadn’t.

“Which is why we eat in the living room,” Skip said. “And that reminds me.” He looked up at Mason. “Tell your little brother that we’re doing pizza and video games this Friday, my house. You’re welcome too, but Dane’s a genius at it.”

“You guys play over the… the whatsit? The PS4?” Mason felt old.

“Yeah, Mace, the PS4,” Carpenter said seriously. “You know, maybe you want to bring Jefferson.”

For a moment Mason thought about it—hanging out at Skip’s, watching Terry be young and excited about video games someplace he was a little more comfy in than Mason’s house. Then—

“If Terry can get away from his mother Friday night, I’d just as soon stay at my place and get laid,” he said frankly, and then wished for a bunker to hide in, or an emergency call, or the president of Tesko to run in saying, “Mason Hayes, help us, you’re the only executive who can!” because that was exactly the sort of thing that didn’t get him invited to dinner parties. Ever.

He winced and looked at his two lunch companions.

Who kept eating their lunch.

“Dude, sounds totally legit to me,” Carpenter said, nodding sagely.

“Can’t blame you a bit,” Skipper agreed. “Carpenter didn’t even see me on the weekends when Richie and I were dating.”

“Yeah I did. You roped me into your weird soccer cult, remember?” Carpenter didn’t look put out much as he munched steadily through his brown rice and pad thai.

Skip smiled. “Yeah, but you like it. I’m just saying—getting laid sort of trumps hanging out and playing video games, and if it doesn’t, I think you’re doing shit wrong.” He nodded soberly, and Mason took another bite of lunch.

All things considered, he was starting to wonder if he’d been hanging out with the wrong people his entire life. Either way, he was sort of glad he’d discovered the right people now.

MASON KEPTon a good face, but fact was, his ankle was killing him by the end of Monday. It hadn’t let up by Thursday, so Dane made him stay home during practice. They were both surprised when they heard Terry’s car in the driveway.

Terry knocked on the door, carrying a tray of coffees with cookies to go with them.

“Not homemade,” he apologized as Dane let him in and gestured him to the front room.

“But very appreciated,” Mason told him. Coffee was going to keep him up until the small hours of the morning and make his Friday a living hell, but Mason didn’t give a shit. They’d been texting desultorily that week, and Mason was getting disheartened.

God, he was starting to live for Terry’s pretty brown eyes and unpredictable smile, but he wasn’t sure—not really—whether Terry liked him just as much.

Coffee and cookies at eight o’clock at night just might mean he did.

“You got sad,” Terry said bluntly, sitting down next to him on the couch and handing him his coffee and cookie. “In text. You got sad. Needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I’ll be in my room,” Dane announced, grabbing his own coffee and cookies. “I need to study. And watch old Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movies. It’s a moral imperative.” He swanned out, and Terry settled back into the couch and sort of muscled himself under Mason’s arm.

Mason took the hint and leaned back, arm around his shoulders, savoring his heat.

“I miss you during the week,” he confessed, balancing his cookie. Terry took it from him, opened the cellophane wrapper, and fed him a bite. With a wash of coffee to swallow it down, it was perfect.

“I’m starting to miss you too,” Terry said moodily, feeding him another bite of cookie. “I don’t remember missing someone before. It chafes like jeans when it’s too hot.”

“Not comfortable,” Mason agreed when he washed down that bite too.

“I cover stores in your area tomorrow for service,” he said abruptly. “How ’bout I bring you lunch tomorrow at one. Good?”

Mason couldn’t have stopped his smile if he’d tried. “It’ll get me through the day,” he said.

“It’s only sandwiches. I’ll text you when I’m in line, okay?”

Mason clutched him a little tighter, relieved when he didn’t wriggle to get away. For some reason Mason had been expecting a squirrel. He was surprised when he got a man instead.

“Mason?”