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Once we were in the car and out of sight of the helicopter and Len, Mason pulled off to the side next to one of the cargo buildings.
“Eva, I know this is sudden, but I really want you to be my date to the Grammy’s tonight.”
My mouth opened in shock. That was about the last thing I could have ever imagined him saying to me. “I can’t go to the Grammy’s,” I said, now panicking because I saw that he was serious.
“Why not,” he asked. “You will be hundred times more gorgeous than anyone there I guarantee it.”
“You barely know me,” I said, stating the obvious. “You can’t just take a stranger as your date to the Grammy’s. I could be a serial killer,” I said firmly. He was smiling that gorgeous smirk of his at this point.
“Are you a serial killer?” he asked, pretending to be serious.
“Well of course not, but that’s not the point,” I answered him, still believing that he had lost his mind.
Mason got out of the car, walked around to my side, and opened my door. He got down on his knees and asked dramatically, “Eva Taylor, are you really going to make me embarrass myself by going to the Grammy’s alone? Please take pity on my poor pathetic self and be my date tonight.”
I was laughing hysterically at this point. Mason, in all of his rockstar badassness glory, was on his knees in front of me, acting like a complete lunatic. I looked at my phone. “It’s already 1:00pm and I don’t have any clothes with me,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “How are we even going to make it in time?”
“Leave that to me!” he said excitedly, getting off his knees and surprising me with a quick kiss before closing my door and jogging back to the driver’s side. He looked so excited as he started the car and grabbed my hand, peeling out of the dock area.
Faster than I thought possible we had arrived outside the city at what Mason explained to me was a private airport that the band frequently flew in and out of when they were visiting New York. A large jet was waiting for us. It had a giant The Riot logo painted on the side. As we walked into the plane I suddenly realized once again how just out of my league I was with these men. The interior was a mix of cream and black. There were groups of six large comfy chairs with tables in between them. A few black leather sofas were near the back of the plane and there were large flat screen televisions everywhere playing various shows. Mason still hadn’t let go of my hand from holding it in the plane. He had stopped and was staring at me expectantly, as if he were waiting for my opinion. “You know this is amazing right,” I said smiling. He seemed almost relieved by my answer and pulled me to one of the couches.
More snacks than I had ever seen were laid out on a table by the couches, and Mason started pushing food towards me. A smiling woman dressed in a professional all black skirt suit came up to us and asked if we needed anything to drink. I noticed she couldn’t take her eyes off Mason and she was staring at him hungrily. Mason didn’t look at her and requested two waters.
“Do you want anything else?” he asked me.
“I’m good with water,” I answered. “Thanks.” The woman continued to stand there expectantly until Mason told her gruffly that was all he needed. At that point she glared at me as if seeing me for the first time and stalked off. Mason cleared his throat and launched into a story about his first time going to the Grammy’s. It was obvious that he had some kind of history with the flight attendant. I smiled and settled back into the couch to listen to his story. It was cute that he was so flustered.
As Mason continued with this story my thoughts drifted to Damon. A flash of guilt went through me. I had left him on such bad terms and here I was flying across the country with his roommate. I was a terrible person. I wanted to come clean to Mason but didn’t know how to explain my relationship with Damon. We hadn’t even kissed and had never ventured very far from anything that could be construed as more than friends. Except for the night before I met Mason I mused, remembering how right his arms had felt. Mason’s touch brought me back to his story, along with the sudden movement of the plane.
“Did I lose you?” Mason asked me with a grin.
“Sorry” I said bashfully, pushing my thoughts about Damon out of my mind and vowing I would think about it later on and give my full attention to Mason for the rest of the trip.
As the plane began to takeoff I looked out the window and watched the city get smaller and smaller behind us. Mason pulled me into his arms and put on a movie. The humming of the engines, the lack of sleep from the night before, and the warmth of Mason’s arms around me soon had me slipping into a deep sleep.
