SEVEN
That evening, Alex and Mason showed up at my apartment exactly at eight, and this time, Mason knocked on my door, which he did a little less forcefully than Alex had the day before. He actually knocked a lot less forcefully. With a snort on my way to the door, I could just tell it was Mason who’d knocked, and I thought how this less-aggressive manner of knocking clearly illustrated a major personality difference between him and Alex. Mason seemed to have more “people skills,” and Alex seemed even possibly antisocial. At any rate, Mason was the one who knocked “normally,” as I saw it. Alex was the one who seemed determined to announce his presence by nearly breaking down a door.
When I opened the door, which had been unlocked, Mason was closest to it, leaning against the frame, confirming my thinking that he’d been the knocker.
He gave me one of his small, somehow sly-looking smiles, at the same time straightening up from the doorframe and extending a single rose. “This is for you.”
With petals that were such a bright, vivid orange they were almost neon, the rose was unlike any I’d ever seen before. It was perfectly unique, gorgeous, and exquisite. It was also special because orange was my favorite color, which I wondered if Mason had inferred from the orange sweatshirt and matching orange tiny button earrings I’d been wearing the day before.
Committed to enjoying the night to the fullest without falling back into resentment of what had happened the day before, I took the rose from Mason, returning his little smile. “Thank you so much. It’s so beautiful.”
“Then it’s exactly like you. Although flawless might better describe you than beautiful.”
I thought I heard Alex, who was standing just a little ways behind and to the side of Mason, make some soft sound resembling a groan, like maybe a groan of disgust or derision directed at Mason.
However, before I could wonder about this for too long, he gestured to a cart filled with covered dishes near him. “May we come in already? We just got this food from the ground-floor kitchen, and it’s piping hot…and I imagine you want to eat before it gets cold.”
For some reason, his stern, businesslike demeanor, and his semi-interruption of Mason complimenting me, just rankled me for some reason. Wishing that he’d lighten up a little, I stepped aside, gesturing to the interior of the apartment.
“Please come in, both of you, so we can get right to dinner. If you want this evening to be all business, Alex, then that’s the way it will be.”
Alex snorted.
Mason stepped inside, pausing beside me and speaking in a stage whisper. “Hey, you’ve got him pegged right that he likes to be all business sometimes. Whereas me, I’m a lot more fun. I’m nicer, too. So, you should probably stick closer to me tonight. Especially since Alex has been known to breathe dragon fire occasionally. And I do mean that metaphorically; however, we are were-dragons, so...I guess literally as well.”
Surprising myself, I laughed at the corny joke. Just a brief chuckle, just for a second or two, but this was just long enough to make me think that I was going to have an amazing night, no matter what, even if I ended up having to kick out Alex in order to have some quality time with Mason alone. I hoped that I wouldn’t feel compelled to do this, though. I hoped that maybe after a glass or two of wine, Alex would unwind a bit, and then he, Mason, and I could have some quality time all together.
Grinning from ear-to-ear, obviously pleased that he’d gotten a chuckle out of me, Mason strolled on into the apartment. Alex entered and strode right by me without so much as a glance.
Somewhat to my surprise and chagrin, they both looked even more handsome than they had the day before, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. Although that had been before I’d seen them in dress pants and crisp collared shirts, which they both wore with the top button undone, allowing me tantalizing peeks at their well-muscled chests.
I myself was a little more dressed up than I’d been the day before, wearing a knee-length sheath dress with a neckline that was a bit low-cut, though not outright plunging. I’d decided on this fairly conservative look after trying on two other dresses from my closet, not really sure at all what kind of look I should be going for, considering that this was a first date and I barely knew Alex and Mason at all. The first dress I’d tried on, a plain navy blue one with a below-the-knee hem, had seemed a bit frumpy, while the second, a short hot pink one with a neckline that was definitely plunging, had seemed far too sexy and probably more appropriate for a night out clubbing with the girls than a date, no matter how steamy that date might become.
My footwear was also a bit dressier than what I’d been sporting the day before. Instead of a battered pair of tennis shoes, I was now wearing a pair of black high heels that matched my black-and-red dress. Like the other hot pink dress, the heels had seemed maybe more “club” than “first date,” but I’d eventually decided to wear them anyway, thinking that while over-the-top sexiness might not have been exactly quite right for the occasion, there was probably nothing wrong with a little bit of overt sexiness. Especially considering how I wanted the night to turn out.
While Alex took the cart of covered dishes out to the kitchen, Mason escorted me into the dining room and seated me, then said he’d be right back. “I’ll go get a vase for your rose, and some glasses for our drinks. I’ll be back in just one minute.”
I saw that under one arm, he held two bottles of white wine, and another bottle of some amber liquid, maybe whiskey. I wondered just exactly how drunk he and Alex were planning on getting me, not that I was going to allow that to happen. I’d have a glass or two of wine, maybe even two-and-a-quarter over the course of dinner. However, that was all I’d have, knowing that I had a tendency to become very emotional while drinking, and I was determined to remain more or less “on guard” at all times that evening when it came to my emotions. With two extremely handsome men like Alex and Mason, something just told me that it might be all too easy to fall “off-guard” emotionally that evening, even without alcohol.
Alone in the dining room, I allowed myself to relax a little, noticing little details about the room that I hadn’t before, because I’d only taken a peek in the room but hadn’t eaten in it before. Since the spacious dining room had seemed a bit too formal for just a meal for one, I’d eaten breakfast and lunch that day at an island in the kitchen.
Above a long, polished oak table in the dining room, a glittering crystal chandelier hung suspended by a gilded fixture, and a few tall floor lamps in the room appeared to be polished brass. Two large oil paintings that flanked a single enormous, wide window on the west wall added to the room’s air of casual-yet-elegant sophistication. Making for an interesting juxtaposition, one of the paintings was a nature scene with lots of greens and blues, and the other was a nighttime cityscape, New Detroit itself by the looks of it.
Alex and Mason both soon returned from the kitchen, Alex with the bottles of whiskey and wine and a few glasses, and Mason with my stunning, unusual rose in a clear glass vase. Seemingly determined that this evening would have all the trappings of romance, he also held two brass candle holders with tall, burgundy-colored taper candles, already lit.
Along with the vase, he set the glowing candles in the middle of one of the far ends of the table, near where I sat at the left of the head of the table. Suddenly very curious, I wondered who’d sit across from me and who’d sit at the head, in the position of most authority and power.
Mason quickly answered this question, sliding into the chair at the head of the table quickly, just as Alex was finishing setting out the glasses and the bottles. This made me think that they hadn’t previously worked out who’d sit at the head of the table, because Mason had almost seemed to have kind of cut Alex off, as Alex had seemed to be moving in the direction of the head of the table himself. However, if Alex was angry, he didn't show it; instead, he just simply took a seat across from me and began pouring drinks with his typically stern expression unreadable, which was also typical for him. Unlike Mason, he was clearly the type to keep all emotions and thoughts close to the vest, which was really beginning to trouble me. If he couldn’t seem to unwind around me at least a little, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever want to invite him into my bed, even if that meant giving up on my fantasy of sharing my bed with him and Mason at the same time.
After handing me a glass of wine, Alex handed one to Mason as well, then poured a glass of whiskey for himself.
With his beautiful pale blue eyes twinkling, Mason looked from him to me. “See, I always like to enjoy a nice glass of wine when I'm in the company of a gorgeous young woman who’s drinking the same thing. Looks to me like Alex has decided to stick with his usual whiskey, though, which he always drinks neat, with no ice and no water. If you’re wondering why that is, all I can guess is that you have to do something to assert your toughness and masculinity when you’re not fast enough to get to the head of the table first.”
For the second time that evening, I laughed, beginning to genuinely like Mason, and not just on a physical level. Instead, I was beginning to think that he might possibly be “relationship material” and not just “fun in the bedroom” material.
In response to what Mason had said, Alex just snorted and knocked back his whiskey in a single gulp before setting the glass on the table with a thunk that bordered on a bang. “Let’s all just see if we can enjoy our respective drinks without being petty before we move on to dinner.”
he was so to the point, just like I’d come to expect Alex to be. Granted, Mason had been kind of rude to him, and I was starting to get the distinct impression that they maybe weren’t the closest pair of brothers in the world. Still, though, I was becoming increasingly irritated by Alex and his constant seriousness.
Lifting my wine glass, I gave him a polite nod in response to what he’d said. “All right. If you want to be all serious about our pre-dinner drinks, I guess that’s just fine with me. We can even sip our drinks in complete silence if that’s what you want.”
I wanted Alex to possibly apologize, or maybe even crack a little smile and say that we didn’t have to go as far as sip our drinks in complete silence. I wanted him to just show me a little trace of personality, at any rate.
However, before he could respond at all, Mason told me to forget being “serious” about pre-dinner drinks. “We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves tonight, and getting to know each other a little better…so you should feel free to let loose, Kira. Talk about whatever you want, and I will, too. We can even talk about what might happen after dinner, if you’d like. After all, sometimes the planning and build-up is part of the fun.”
Smiling a little, I took a long drink of my wine, sure that I was going to enjoy the “planning and build-up” with Mason very much indeed.