2 | Bonus Scene: Mason's POV

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Bonus Scene #2: Mason's POV
   The Day of Prom

   Another fucking sleepless night.

   Which wasn't a surprise at this point. Angel and I had been sleeping in the same bed, and I got used to it. I got used to it.

   I was stupid. So fucking stupid.

    Mumbling a line of curses under my breath, and I finally got out of bed an hour later, eager to head to her house. Since I woke up at six, I tried watching YouTube videos to get my mind off of today, but all my thoughts went back to her.

   Last I saw Charlotte, it was Thursday, right after I sang to her for the second time. Two times more than I had ever sung to anyone before.

   But since then, she'd been swamped with family and homework, so I tried making myself busy too. But when you're stuck in an empty house with absent parents and dark thoughts of your past, being alone doesn't seem too fun.

   So I stayed out. Got drunk with Newell, Dixon and the rest of the guys. The guys who didn't give a fuck about my money.

   But I couldn't fucking stop thinking about her.

   It was Monday now, so the second the clock hit seven, I nearly broke my damn legs getting of bed so I could go shower. Thirty minutes later I had a piece of toast hanging from between my teeth as I closed the front door to my house. I was supposed to pick Angel up today, so when I got into my car, I didn't hesitate to floor the gas petal the second the ignition turned on.

   I was unregretfully listening to the Backstreet Boys on my way to her house, and I couldn't help but smile, thinking back to when Charlotte found out I liked their music a few months back.

   "Come on! I just wanna see if our playlists match!" she said through her laughter as she tried to reach for my phone, only for her to end up pressing her chest against mine.

   It was a second, just a second, that I didn't move. But that was all she needed.

   She snatched my phone, grinning with victory as she plugged in my password, sitting next to me with a content smile. I'd told her my password around a week ago, when I first came to her house with her favourite ice cream and chips.

   While she looked at my phone, I watched at her. My eyes followed how her lip quirked when she saw an artist she liked. And I watched as her little smile transformed into the most wide, beautiful grin I'd ever seen before she peered over to me.

   "I didn't know you were a Backstreet Boys fanboy!"

   The thought of that day made me shiver, remembering her constant teasing.

   It was less than twenty minutes later when I pulled up in front of her house, parking on the side of the street. The second I shifted the gears, I reached over the console and grabbed my phone, which laid on the passenger seat.

   I dialed Angel, leaning my head against the headrest while studying her house. The phone rang about three times until I heard her voice. "Hello," she grumbled, and I had to stifle my laugh.

   "Hey, Angel," my voice lowered, already knowing she overslept.

   She let out a loud yawn, and I grinned, shuffling in my seat. "Hey, you."

   Deciding to set her up, I regarded the second-floor windows, knowing that around the corner, facing Hathaway's house, was her room. "I'm outside your house, Angel. Come on out."

   For a moment, I was greeted with silence. But it wasn't long until I had to hold back a laugh when she started cursing. I couldn't help but imagine her jumping out of bed frantically.

    It was another few seconds when she screamed into the phone, "I'll be five minutes!" before ending the call.

   My eyes lingered at my phone screen with an unintentional smile before focusing out my window to check for cars. I made sure the coast was clear before pushing the door open.

   I stepped outside and strode to the opposite side of my car, stuffing my hands into my pockets before leaning against the passenger door. My focus remained at the front door, knowing she was frantically getting herself ready.

   And just like how I assumed, Charlotte stepped out a few minutes later, and when she did, I had to inhale sharply. Not because her silver eyes were wide and panicky, and not because her hair was an absolute mess.

   But because of what she was wearing. Red.

   She was wearing high-waisted denim shorts that showed off her curves and her goddamn legs, but the red shirt she wore... fuck.

   Deciding to ignore the tight feeling in my chest, I forced myself to meet her gaze, only to notice the massive bed head she was fashioning. The knots were noticeable on the sides of her head, making it seem like she hadn't brushed her hair in a good week.

   "Hey," she breathlessly whispered as she jogged forward, so she was in front of me, standing on the grass.

   "Hey, Angel," I greeted, unable to hold my laughter as I brushed my hand through her hair. But as I attempted to fix it up, she hissed softly under her breath, and I couldn't stop myself from cringing. "Sorry baby, you've got a bed head."

   She groaned, mumbling something as she moved my hand away so she could fix it herself. I watched her movements with a clenched jaw, hating that she wouldn't let me help. Hell, I shouldn't help, but that hadn't stopped me with her before.

   When her faced contorted into a cringe, I laughed softly and playfully slapped her hand off her head. "I'll do it." Not waiting for her reply, I began to finish what I started.

   It wasn't long until I managed to flatten her knots. But as I brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, I noticed her wearing the sweetest fucking smile. "Why are you smiling?" I couldn't help but ask, and when her smile grew another inch, I couldn't help but follow.

   She shrugged, resulting in the piece of hair falling back, covering her eye slightly. "Nothing," she chirped, moving it behind her ear before stepping to my left, so she could grasp for the door handle.

   I moved, giving her space to open her door. But as she sat down, slipping her bag off her shoulders and onto the floor, she peered up and noticed my amused expression.

   "Get in the car, Reed. We have school to get to," she reminded me with a bright grin, making my feet kick into motion before rounding my car.

   The moment I sat inside; conversation began.

   When I asked about her weekend, a voice in my head begged to ask if she thought about me as much as my thoughts contained her, but that would be stupid.

   This was all fake. Everything was according to plan. She'd move on and be happy, and I'd finally be able to let her go, knowing an Angel was in a world still undeserving, but welcomed with love nonetheless.

   So when she asked what I'd done over the weekend, I was vague. Despite wanting to tell her all the idiotic things my friends did, I stayed vague, because I was getting closer than I already needed, and it was fucking up my mind. Was just with some people

   "Was just with some people," I replied with a shrug, seeming nonchalant, but in reality, I was trying to figure out how in less than two months, I'd have to say goodbye to her.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

   For the rest of the week, Charlotte and I had begun to grow slightly distant in ways that may look like nothing to others, but to me, made me worried.

   After our late-night phone call on Monday, she'd avoid my eyes or start fidgeting with her fingers before talking to Becca or Ben.

   Still, every night she'd leave her window open for me so I could come in.

   On Thursday, we ended up watching two horror movies before she ended up passing out on my lap, and I couldn't help but play with her hair between my fingers before falling into deep sleep soon after.

   When Friday morning came, I was sleeping peacefully, knowing Angel was next to me. But when I heard a faint alarm, followed by a muffled groan, I knew I was seconds away from being forced to leave.

   Since I was lying on my stomach, I closed my eyes tightly and resisted a smirk, already knowing what was coming.

   In seconds, Angel's hand met with the back of my head, and deciding to toy with her, I opened my eyes a crack, staring into her tired gaze. "Abuse will not be tolerated, Angel," I grumbled into the pillow before closing my eyes again.

   She was clearly not happy with my answer because a second passed before she shoved me hard. "Get up you lazy piece of ass."

   I couldn't hold back my smirk anymore. As I flipped myself onto my back, I stared at her teasingly. "You with you could get a piece of this ass," I retorted, resulting in her narrowing her gorgeous fucking eyes on me.

   She sighed quietly before focusing her gaze onto her lap, and I couldn't help but let my eyes travel around her. "It's six. You have to head home before my parents see you in here and ground me for a lifetime."

   I glanced to the clock before chuckling softly. "Okay, okay. Damn," I mumbled, sitting up as my legs dangled off the bed. When I peeked over my shoulder and saw her lying down again, I couldn't help but stare at her for a few more seconds before reaching to the floor to grab my jeans and tee-shirt.

   After I quickly got dressed, I stood near her window but hesitated before turning around to look at her again. Her light brown hair was sprawled on her pillow and her long lashes shadowed her lids and she began to fall back asleep.

   When I moved toward her, my hand itched to move a piece of hair that covered her eye, but I stopped myself. "Enjoy the rest of your sleep," I teased, and when she opened her eyes, I smiled.

Her lips parted slightly, but I couldn't help but bend down and kiss her forehead, stopping her. My lips lingered, but when I pulled away, I noticed her dazed look and chose not to stray too long.

   So quickly turning around, I made my way to her window and reached for the tree just outside my reach. Climbing it was easily, since I'd gotten used to the routine we'd built.

   My feet fell to the grass with a soft thud, and with a loud yawn, I strode around the corner of her street, where I parked my car. I drove home quickly after that, only to keep myself busy in the shower until I had to go to school.

   The day itself was boring, though. Charlotte was going to the salon with her friend before school ended, so I was tired for hours, until it was getting close to picking up our friends in the party bus I ordered.

   Michael was first, since he lived farther away. We sat in the back and talked about his cousin, Scott, who I'd met a few times, since he was friends with Dixon.

   But I couldn't help but start jittering in my seat after we picked up Jessica, because now we were getting closer to Charlotte's street. The driver parked on the side of the road, and I quickly hopped out, throwing a quick text to Ben to let him know the bus was outside.

   I felt my hands beginning to swear nervously the closer I strode to Charlotte's front door. It was closed, but the foyer lights were on, so I knew she was right on the other side, waiting.

   Why in the fucking hell was I so nervous? We would play our part and be all cute and shit for Ben to see. Then this would be over.

   The thought stopped my feet from moving, only to force my gaze up and realize that I climbed the porch steps without realizing it. I was at arm's reach from the door, and deciding not to overthink it, I curled my fingers and knocked on the door.

   Taking a breath, I attempted to loosen the black tie wrapped around my neck. "Fucking suits," I grumbled under my breath, just as the door was thrown open.

   My lips parted, seeing Charlotte in front of me, but I quickly snapped it shut the longer I stared at her. Because she looked so goddamn beautiful.

   Her dress was red and her sleeves fell off her shoulders, showing off her smooth skin. But the more my eyes dropped, the more I had to stiffen. There was a slit on her dress, and it showed off her leg. Fuck, Angel had the best legs.

   With a lot of strength, I forced my eyes up and stepped forward, so there was less space between us. "God, Angel... I have no words," I muttered low enough for her to hear, my eyes roaming around her face.

   Instead of answering, she curled her lower lip in between her teeth, and I felt my chest rumbling with a low grumble. Without thinking, I reached out and pulled her lip out, whispering, "Only I can do that."

   I inched my head back and met her lustful gaze, but the next words spoken didn't come from her.

   "You both are adorable!" Her mom gushed, and I peered over her shoulder to see Gabriella standing next to the railing of the stairs, hands clasped together.

   Charlotte twisted her head, probably to glare at her mom, so I quickly pulled the clear box out of my jacket pocket before holding it in front of her. She turned back to me then and gaped.

   I couldn't stop myself from smirking when she spoke. "Red?"

   My eyes dropped to the red peony corsage I picked out, with small white flowers—I had no idea what they were called—around it. I picked the peony because she loved the flower, but I had to pick red.

   Lifting my head again, I caught her gaze and shrugged, opening the lid of the box. "I guessed."

   She said nothing, watching as I slipped the corsage onto her right wrist. I kept my eyes low to avoid staring at her longingly, but I sucked a breath last minute when she suddenly clasped my cheeks, bringing me down.

   My eyes closed instantly, the moment my lips met hers. God, she tasted so good.

   The reminder that we weren't alone came just as quick as her lips, when I saw a flash of brightness behind my closed eyelids. We both ended up pulling away at the same time, and I looked over her head to see Gabriella holding her phone in a tight grip, grinning.

   Between Charlotte's parents, her mom was definitely more intimidating.

   Instead of seeming guilty that she ruined the moment, her smile widened when Charlotte twisted, her back to me. "Now, let's take pictures with the both of you!"

   I wasn't arguing, because in every picture, my arm was on her somehow. And I genuinely smiled each time, until we stepped into the bus with everyone else already inside.

   I led her to the far back of the bus, which was cushioned with beige seats and tinted windows circling the entire space. Everyone else was closer to the front, but Charlotte didn't argue sitting farther from them. 

   My body had a mind of its own—more specifically, my hand—because I ended up holding her exposed thigh. She was sitting straight next to me, but every time I whispered how I wanted to kiss her, I held back a chuckle every time she shivered, almost unnoticeably.

   In a way, I felt relieved, knowing I wasn't the only one who felt affected by our close proximity.

   And after twenty minutes, I kept my hand on her, keeping her still while our friends slipped out of the bus, leaving us alone with only the driver left. But he seemed to be minding his own business, typing something on his phone.

   With that confirmation, I twisted in my seat and leaned closer to Charlotte, who was holding her breath. "I really want to kiss you," I muttered, dropping my gaze to her lips. I want you.

   She chuckled awkwardly and tried to weakly move away from me, but I was undeterred. "I'm wearing red lipstick, Mase."

   I heard a low noise stem deep from my throat, unable to stop thinking about her and that dress "I don't care," I admitted before gripping her waist.

    With a small tug, she whimpered as my nose rubbed against hers. "Mason," she said breathlessly, and I felt myself hardening just by how she said my name. "We should get going."

   "Okay," I mumbled, my eyes lingering on her lips once last time before standing up. I gave her my hand and helped her to her feet before guiding her out, my hand on her lower back.

   When she politely thanked the driver, I found myself holding my breath, because she was so fucking adorable.

    She reached me again, wearing a wide grin that made me stop breathing for a second before leading her inside the banquet hall. I didn't spare anyone a glance as I handed the girl our tickets before stepping inside, still holding Charlotte next to me.

   I was pretty sure the girl was still talking, but I already started striding, so I didn't really catch what she said before passing the doorway leading to the main room.

   My eyes did a brief scan of our surroundings, seeing our classmates on either side of the dance floor with at least thirty tables scattered around.

   I saw some people waving at me, ushering me to come over, but I stayed next to Charlotte, lowering my mouth close to her ear. "You know where we're sitting, Angel?"

   She nodded but said nothing as she led me to the table on the left side of the doors we just came from. Our group of friends were already sitting, but Becca seemed to save the seat next to her. Charlotte quickened her pace, so her back was to me, but I frowned when I saw her back tensing at whatever Becca did with her face. 

   The second I sat down, I bit back a cringe when Larger Than Life by Backstreet Boys began playing. I knew Charlotte well enough to know that any second now—

   "Let's dance!" She chirped, twirling her head in my direction to flash me a wide smile. For a moment, I was tempted to do so, just to keep her happy.

   But then I remembered where we were and glared. "I don't dance to Backstreet Boys."

   A wicked smirk began to split her lips, and I felt something in my chest as she leaned forward, whispering, "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that was reserved for the bedroom."

   I didn't answer. I couldn't. Because the fucking thought of me and her in the bedroom was leading my thoughts down a dark path, and my body was reacting. Especially my lower half.

   Thankfully not pushing me and further, she leaned back against her seat and focused on Becca before pushing her chair back. "May I have this dance, child?"

   She grinned, standing up too. "You may, oldie."

   They skipped to the dance floor, and I couldn't help but watch Charlotte with a soft smile. She danced widely, screaming the lyrics to the song before blending with a few other girls in our grade.

   "How's that going?" Ben's voice stopped my eyes on lingering before slowly, I shifted in the seat I was sitting on, so I could face Ben.

   He sat opposite of me, next to Michael, who was too busy texting someone on his phone.

   "What's going?" I drawled casually before returning my focus to Ben, who was staring at me soberly. "What the hell's your problem, Hathaway?"

   His eyes narrowed into slits. "That's still my friend, Reed. You're touching her like she's one of your—"

   "My what?" I bit out, matching his expression as I leaned forward. "You about to compare your friend to someone?"

   "A group of someone's," he retorted, his teeth grinding as he peered over my shoulder, where the girls were dancing. "Girls who you don't give a shit for."

   I felt the need to defend myself. "I give a shit."

   "You can't even remember their names."

   "I suck at that," I fumed, feeling my foot begin to tap rapidly under the table. "And

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