Page 33 of With This Mask
"Trust me, it’ll be the perfect fit for the weekend," he smirks, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that will lead us to the cabin.
The road melts into a gravel path, and trees give way to the expansive clearing where the cabin—no, mansion—dominates the landscape. My eyes widen as Alec's car crunches to a stop. The place is a fortress of glass and steel, reeking of wealth in its sleek lines. Secluded doesn't begin to cover it; we're in our own world here. I’m pretty sure it’s been at least half an hour since I saw another house.
"Wow," I exhale, unable to contain the awe in my voice as we step out of the car.
"Not too bad, huh?" Alec's words are light, but his gaze on me is heavy, searching for a reaction. “At least there are a few perks that come with the Vanderholt name.”
"Your dad might be an asshole, but at least he owns awesome shit,” I say with a smirk as I grab my bag from the trunk.
I wonder if I’ve unknowingly struck a nerve when he doesn’t fire off a comeback at that. He just swallows once and reaches into the trunk, hauling out a bag filled with recording gadgets and lighting gear that probably cost more than my entire college fund.
"Planning to start your own studio or just documenting our weekend for posterity?" I tease, taking some of the load from him.
"Maybe a bit of both," he responds, a corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smirk. We carry our bags inside before returning to the car for another load of enough groceries to feed an army.
I trail behind Alec, stepping into the cavernous living room, my sneakers squeaking against the polished hardwood floors. The place screams Vanderholt—immaculate, expensive, and untouchable. I can't help but think of the cramped apartment I grew up in, where every inch was a reminder of just how much we had to stretch each dollar.
"Make yourself at home," Alec says, dropping the bags on the kitchen island. It's easy for him to say, surrounded by all this luxury. For me, it's like stepping onto another planet—one where there's no worry of overdue bills or second-hand clothes.
"Sure," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant. "Because this is exactly like my place. You know, minus a couple thousand square feet and the casual opulence."
"Opulence?" He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter with a smirk. "Didn't peg you for someone who gets impressed by shiny things, Winters."
"Shiny things?" I echo, throwing my hands up. "Alec, there's a chandelier in here that could have paid my entire tuition twice over."
"Only twice?" he chuckles, and I can't help the smile tugging at my lips.
"Let's get settled," he suggests, breaking the spell as he heads towards the stairs. "And later, you can help me with the recording setup. It'll be… fun."
"Fun," I say just to myself as I follow him. I know what’s coming up. It was my idea. But as usual, I find myself questioning if I can actually do this. If I have the confidence. As I glance around the cabin that might as well be a palace, I can't shake the feeling that I'm playing house in someone else's life.
"Come on, Winters!" Alec calls out, splashing water in my direction. His voice echoes off the walls of the pool house. "You really one of those girls who won’t get their hair wet at the pool?"
I narrow my eyes for a moment, just before a mischievous grin takes over my face. I take a few steps back before launching myself into the air for half a second, just before I cannonball into the water. I send a tidal wave over Alec. His surprised laughter fills the air as he wipes at his face.
“Damn, Winters,” he exclaims, wading in my direction. “I underestimated you. Again.”
“A mistake I’m sure you’ll never make again, I imagine,” I say with a smile as he closes the distance between us. And my heart takes a journey into my throat as he fixes me with those blue eyes, drinking me in.
His hands wrap around my waist, and with zero effort, he picks me up off my feet and I wrap my legs around his waist. I loop my arms behind his neck, staring into those eyes.
“I still can’t quite believe this is reality,” I confess as I look into those gorgeous eyes. “That you, Alec Vanderholt, are the person that I crave being around most now. That you… you somehow want me.”
“It doesn’t quite feel real to me either,” he says, his tone softer than I would have expected. “You feel like the first real decision I’ve made for myself. I don’t just get to go for the things I want. But that’s you, Salem. Don’t fucking doubt it for a second.”
I tell myself that I’m going to do my best to believe him in what he says. But it’s hard. Not so hard to believe is the way his grip on me tightens, the way I feel him harden where he’s pressed between my legs. The way his mouth feels as it takes mine. As his tongue shows me just how much he likes the taste of me.
This is real. For the first time since Alec and I shattered into each other’s orbit, I’m not concerned about watching eyes. There are no asshole rich kids waiting to make a snide remark. I’m not scared about what Isabella or Josh is going to say. There’s no danger of it getting reported to some news outlet, that the billionaire heir is fucking around with some scholarship girl.
It’s just Alec. It’s just Salem.
And I further prove it when I sneak my hands up and in one swift motion, hoist myself up as I dunk Alec under the water.
We race, chase, and dunk each other until our limbs are heavy with exhaustion and our faces hurt from smiling. It's a side of Alec I haven't seen—playful, unguarded—and it's infectious. For a moment, I forget about scholarships and GPAs, and let myself just... be.
As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of purple and orange, we make our way to the patio just outside the pool house. Wrapped in thick towels, we sit by the fire pit Alec has set ablaze, the warmth leeching the chill from our bones. It’s cold outside, though it’s warmer than I’d expect for this time of year. But with the fire, it’s kind of cozy.
"Tell me something," Alec says as he pokes at the embers with a stick. "You're always so damn focused. What drives that?"