Fallen Crest Alternative Version (Fallen Crest High #2.1)(25)

I could’ve smacked my forehead. “I forgot to text him and tell him where I was going to be tonight.”

Mason cursed. “Forget him.”

I slid my fingers through his hair and tugged his head up. His eyes sparkled from the moonlight as he grinned down at me. “What else did James say?”

A dark look flared for a moment. Then he replaced it with annoyance and collapsed next to me. “Your mom wants a family meeting.”

My heart stopped. “When?”

He cursed again. “I have no idea. We have to finish that tournament today so it’s not today. I know that much.”

“Where?”

“The tournament?”

I swatted his chest. “The family meeting.”

Mason looked over. “Are you serious? Don’t you usually avoid things?”

I shrugged in the bed. “Maybe I’m proactive now?”

He rolled his eyes but reached for me. I was lifted in the air and placed on top of him. My eyes sparked as I straddled him with my hands on his chest. He caught them and rolled again. I was on my back. This time, he straddled me and my hands were held captive above my head.

“You’re proactive now?” he asked as he bent low and started to lick underneath my jaw.

I gasped and squirmed when he moved lower. “Don’t you have a tournament today?”

He gave me a look filled with promise and tucked two hands on the inside of my underwear. As he whisked them off and scooted even lower, I sucked in my breath, feeling his lips linger at the apex between my legs and his tongue swirl between them.

I forgot all about the tournament.

*

When I rolled over, the bed was empty beside me. The clock said it was past eleven, and I felt bone tired. Mason left a note on his desk with a set of keys beside it. The tournament was still in Roussou, and they would be back late. After I showered and changed in my room, I grabbed Adam’s keys and headed downstairs. When I passed the kitchen, Mousteff stuck his hand out. A steaming cup of coffee drew me closer. It smelled of heaven and French vanilla. I grabbed the to-go cup with a smile of thanks. He grunted to the kitchen, and I heard a chopping sound soon after.

Like old times.

Once I found Adam’s car in the spacious garage, between James’ BMW and his Mercedes Benz, I called Adam to see where he wanted me to drive his car. He told me not to bother.

“I’m at Mark’s right now. I can run over in an hour.”

“Is that Sam? Tell her to come over,” Malinda hollered in the background.

Before he could relay the message, I chuckled. “On my way.”

It wasn’t long before I parked his car on the street and rang their doorbell. Malinda threw it open a second later. She wore a long blue silk robe with her hair up in matching curlers. A smile stretched from ear to ear as she held a phone to one of them.

She waved me in. “Come in, come in.” Then she turned away. “Oh, not you. David’s daughter was at the door…”

As she went to the kitchen, I went to the dining room and stopped short at the sight before me. Mark and Adam were hunched over in their seats. Each wore gym pants and sweat shirts with messily rumpled hair. Their eyes looked soft around the edges, and I wondered if they’d just woken up. Adam ran a hand through his blonde hair, his eyes sparkling. “Hey, Sam.”

Mark grunted as he dug his fork into a pile of pancakes in front of him. “Hi, Samhow’sitgoing?” He shoveled two thirds of a pancake into his mouth as he reached for more syrup.

“Hey, guys…” I was amazed. There was no other word as I took in the buffet before them.

There was a dish piled high with pancakes next to one with French toast. A bowl of sausage was at the other end of the table beside a bowl of bacon. In the middle were three different flavors of syrup, butter, whip cream, strawberries, blueberries, chocolate chips…my eyes couldn’t take it all in. My stomach rumbled in protest when I caught a whiff of a fresh batch of—I turned around and my mouth fell open—omelets.

Malinda walked past and placed a dish with omelets piled high. Hard boiled eggs were added to it, along with a separate bowl with scrambled eggs.

“Here, honey.”

I turned in time as Malinda shoved a cup in my hand. She filled it with coffee and then dumped creamer and sugar afterwards. A small spoon was plopped into it, and she blasted me with a smile. “Sit, honey. Sit.” She nudged me to the table.

Adam chuckled as I sat across from him, wide eyed. He ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it at first either. My mom doesn’t cook and she exists on egg whites, coffee, and energy drinks. She claims they’re healthy drinks, but its crap.” He gestured to Malinda, who was popping bread into a toaster. “She’s not at all like Mark’s mom.”

“It’s Malinda.” She pretended to shoot him a glare but turned back to the phone with a charming purr.

Mark elbowed him. “You gotta try some of these omelets. My mom makes them with feta cheese. Mmmm. Ilothemessomuch.”

I frowned at him.

Malinda piped in, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey.”

He lifted his fork in an apology.

She went back to her phone call.

“Who is she talking to?”

Mark shrugged.

“Samantha, drink your coffee. Your father told me it’s the only sustenance you get sometimes.”