Page 9
Whilst I might have been hiding from him, I did watch his press conference. Mason sat there eating an Aero whilst a lot of the questions went to track bad boy Xavier Williams.
Mason continues to text. “I acknowledge that wasn’t professional or on my eating plan, but nobody cares. Outside of my trainer.” Then he makes a face. “And my dad. He cares.”
I furrow my brow. Mason’s tone and expression have completely shifted. It almost looks as if he’s remembering something painful.
That’s interesting.
He finishes typing and then smiles at me, the unhappiness that was on his face a few seconds before completely gone. “Where were we?” he asks.
“Carving out my own career,” I remind him. “But can we talk about why you had an Aero in your pocket and what flavour it was?”
“You want to know what flavour it was?”
“Yes. To see if it was worth going off your eating plan for.”
His eyes dance with amusement, and my heart flutters a bit. “So why do you get to decide if it was worth my time or not?” he challenges.
BANTER BANTER BANTER alert, we are about to commence BANTERING!
I love banter.
“Well, there are obviously superior Aero flavours. If you’re going to incur the wrath of your trainer, it should be worth it.”
“You sidestepped my question. Why do you get to decide if the flavour was worth it?”
“Maybe I’ll have to play my nepo card for once,” I say. “And you must answer to a Collings.”
That makes him laugh, and I relish the sound filling the space between us.
“Please tell me it was something fun,” I say.
“What’s your idea of fun?” he asks, dropping his voice and lifting one brow.
I gulp. I think ripping his fire suit off him and peeling off his undershirt would be fun, but I decide that isn’t a great answer considering this will never go anywhere.
But I can play along. Somewhat.
I stare at him. “Chocolate orange. I love orange.”
Suddenly, his brows snap together. “That’s it!”
“What?”
He pauses, quickly raking his hand over the scruff on his jawline. “Nothing.” Mason flashes me another smile. “I beat you on chocolate-orange Aero, though. I had a tiramisu one.”
“What sorcery is this? I have never seen a tiramisu one!”
Mason laughs. “Sorcery. Who uses that word?”
“I do.”
“Noted. But the sorcery is a Canadian flavour, and I grabbed it in the hotel gift shop in Montreal. I bought them out. I also bought them out of salted caramel.”
“Shut up!”
“I’m a truth teller. These things exist in the wilds of Canada. Or in the hotel gift shop.”
“And I missed them?”
