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"Didn't you tell me she was just about to turn 18? Did you miss her birthday? You know that 18 is usually the birthday…"
I stopped listening at this point, my mind churning over the information they had divulged. I could care less about my birthday as I had never had anyone celebrate it with me before. The only reason it was a little important this year was because it meant legally the Andersons would have no right to me.
What was actually important at this moment is that Mason and Beckham had basically said they were creatures I had only read about in fairy tales, and that I probably was one too. I wanted to believe they were crazy with talks of succubi, vampires, and the like, but it honestly sounded more palatable to me that there was a supernatural reason for my abilities than that I was a crazy science experiment that was grown in a test tube like I had been thinking earlier. My heart sped up and my hands got clammy. I should just go in there and confront them about what I had heard, but I was too nervous.
I decided to creep back to my room when I noticed the voices had stopped. I felt a whoosh of air in front of me and all of a sudden Mason was staring back at me suspiciously.
"How long have you been standing here Eva?" he asked, not bothering to make an excuse for the fact that he had basically just appeared in front of me. "You should have just come into the kitchen. Breakfast is ready."
"I just got here," I answered brightly, both of us knowing that I was lying.
Luckily Mason didn't press me on the issue, instead, he pulled me in for a kiss that left me aching.
"I missed you last night," he whispered in my ear.
I melted into his embrace. Supernatural or not, this man had been nothing but amazing to me. I couldn't find it in me to be afraid of him, or Beckham for that matter. I suddenly thought of the extraordinary skills that Damon had shown. Obviously he was more than he seemed as well. I felt overwhelmed. I just escaped an attic for goodness sakes and the first men I meet aren't even human. Figures.
Chapter 7
I walked into Beckham's gorgeous farmhouse style kitchen that had stainless steel appliances that looked like they belonged on a spaceship, Mason following behind me. I stopped abruptly however when I saw Beckham standing shirtless, in a low hanging pair of navy sweatpants, flipping pancakes over the stove. Looking at him now it was obvious he had to be supernatural. I had never seen anything so delicious in my life. Well I guess since the last time I looked at Mason or Damon I laughed to myself. Beckham was an in between of Mason and Damon, all golden skin stretched taut over perfect muscles, and I swear he had an eight pack (even though I had read that wasn't possible in one of Mrs. Anderson's Cosmopolitans I had stolen). Mason came up behind me and wiped at my mouth.
"Just wiping away the drool," he teased me.
I blushed, but didn't deny I had been checking out Beckham. Who wouldn't when faced with a body like that. He literally looked like he had been carved by the gods. How could I ever have thought for a moment the two of them were just normal men?
Beckham's gold hair was tousled perfectly like he had just rolled out of bed. He still looked sleepy, and my mind began to wonder if that was what he looked like when he first woke up… Mason cleared his throat, still staring at me amused. I blushed even more if that was possible, then attempted to nonchalantly walk past Mason to pour myself a glass of orange juice from a pitcher that was sitting out on the counter. I tried to slip past Beckham, but he spun around and caged me in. I stared nervously at Mason, wondering what he thought of the situation. Mason was eyeing Beckham and I closely, but seemed to be waiting to see what Beckham was going to do.
"Sleep well angel?" he asked me, pressing his hips slightly into me.
His touch, combined with his hard length, felt like it was drugging me, but I stirred to attention from his use of the endearment "angel." Hadn't that been what he called me in my dream? I lost my train of thought again when he leaned his face in close to mine, our lips almost touching.
"Are you still asleep?" he asked smiling.
I wanted so badly to lean in the inch remaining and brush his lips with mine, but I stopped myself.
I became very aware that Mason was still watching us. I could feel his heightened energy even standing a few feet away from him. It was hard to tell however if he was upset or not. I stepped to the side, dragging my body away from Beckham. It literally felt like torture. That connection that I had felt from the second I had laid eyes on him seemed to be growing stronger every minute. I smiled at him, feeling bad that me pulling away from him had caused his face to fall.
"I must still be asleep," I said apologetically. "Are you really making pancakes though or is this a dream? Because feel free to wake me up like this anytime you want." I said, clumsily trying to flirt.
Beckham's face fell back into its easy going grin.
"Is this how I get your attention? Just make some pancakes without a shirt?" he laughed.
Mason spoke up from the other side of me, surprising me since I hadn't even noticed that he had moved.
"If that's the case, I'm cooking breakfast," he said, making me giggle and gasp in a weird way. The weird sounds I was making escalated when he too whipped off the v-neck he had been wearing. He then cuddled up to my side, his naked chest pressed against me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. I was sandwiched between two of the hottest guys in existence.
Mason was covered in tattoos. His chest didn't have a single blank space. It was hard to tell what was what since everything overlapped. I did recognize an angel wing tattoo going up the top part of his chest, and the phrase "lust over love" written in cursive over his heart. That was an odd phrase to choose to have on your body forever. I would have to convince him to let me take a closer look at all of his tattoos. I idly wondered if he had tattoos on other parts of his body and if I would ever get the chance to see those… Mason coughed and I saw that Beckham was openly laughing at how flustered I obviously was. Mason backed away and went to the stove, taking over pancake duty just like he had threatened. I didn't think my ovaries were going to survive this trip.
I quickly moved away to the large island and pulled out a chair, slowly sipping the juice that Beckham slid over to me, trying to calm down. I admired the muscles in Mason's back as he fiddled with the stove. I could feel Beckham's amused eyes still on me.
"Are we leaving soon?" I asked Mason, trying to think of something to say, feeling awkward from overhearing their conversation and being surrounded by all of their sexiness.
"Do you have practice this afternoon?" he asked.
"We have off until tomorrow since today is the last day before classes," I replied.
"You should stay for a few hours then," said Beckham eagerly. "We could drive up the coast," he added.
