Mason Harrison is the captain of the hockey team, undeniably good-looking, and always knows just what to say. But he doesn't come without his flaws... After a traumatic relationship leaves him unsure and fearful, Mason doesn't know when he will be r...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
- - - - RILEY - - - easy on the eyes - texas hill
I feel like I haven't seen Mason in years.
Between his hectic practice and game schedule, class, my job, and the impending doom of final exams, I'm barely keeping my head afloat. And boy, could I use a Mason hug right now.
As a senior, you'd think I would have been able to find healthy coping mechanisms for final exams by now, but the anxiety and stress are eating away at me.
I've been in a constant state of nausea since my business law professor announced that there would be no curve on the final, and every time I open my textbook, I have to hold myself back from barfing all over the pages.
Rubbing the back of my neck and blinking away the frustrated tears, I let out a long sigh.
School is hard.
Picking up my phone to distract myself, I notice a recent text from Mason.
Mason: 'Busy tonight?'
'Busy trying to not cry over business law.' I respond.
Mason: 'Perfect. Let me come pick you up.'
Mason: 'Take you out to dinner, and distract you from whatever the fuck business law entails.'
A grin takes over my face as I read Mason's text message. I really don't know if I have time to take a break from reading case debriefings and pounding law terms into my brain, but there's no way in hell I'm turning down his offer.
Me: 'Okay :)'
Me: 'Where to?'
Mason: 'Surprise - but dress up.'
Mason: 'See you at 7 o'clock, Riles.'
Butterflies swarm my stomach, and excitement replaces any and all of the stress I am feeling.
Mason is a breath of fresh air, and after dating someone like Liam for six years, he is so refreshing.
My business law textbook is long forgotten as I get up and throw open my closet doors, praying I can find something to wear quickly. I always seem to spend hours trying on every single item in my closet and end up a blubbery mess on the floor because I hate everything I try on.
It's a girl thing, I think.
I nearly shriek when I find the perfect piece of clothing hanging in the back of my closet; an emerald green silk dress that I wore to my cousin's wedding nearly two years ago.
If I'm being honest, I wasn't sure I would ever have somewhere to wear the dress again, but I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it.
The length is perfect, hitting just a couple of inches below my knees, and the cowl neck is the perfect allusion to make my boobs seem fuller than they are. It shows just enough skin to be flirty, but it's not short enough to be considered a club dress.
