by Megan Green
It would be so easy to lean in and kiss her. To close the tiny distance that separates us. To finally get to see what she tastes like.
I drop my face, my lips just barely grazing the soft skin of hers. I feel her breath hitch as her eyes flutter shut, her body melting into mine as she waits for my kiss.
But I stop. Keeping my mouth exactly where it is, I ask the question I’ve been dying to ask all night, “Have dinner with me this week.” Okay, so it comes out as more of a demand than a request, but something tells me she’s not going to tell me no.
And sure enough, a rush of air brushes my lips as she exhales slowly.
“Okay,” she complies, keeping her mouth almost pressed against mine, her arms coming around my waist as she takes another step into me.
And as much as it pains me to do so, I step back, brushing my lips against her cheek instead. “It’s a date.”
12
Maddy
My fingers tremble as I reach for the seat belt on the passenger seat of Mason’s SUV.
I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe this is actually happening, I think, inhaling and exhaling slowly and trying to steady my shaking hands as Mason rounds the back of the car to the driver’s side.
This is silly. It’s Mason I’m talking about. We spent hundreds of hours together, just the two of us.
So, why does this feel so different?
The night of Hannah’s party springs to mind, and I have my answer.
That half-kiss was the most incredible moment of my life. In all the years I’d spent with Jesse, he was never once able to elicit the sort of response from my body that Mason managed with a simple brush of his lips.
I went to sleep that night with a smile on my face, and I don’t think it’s left since.
I’ve replayed those few seconds back behind Mason’s townhouse at least a hundred times over the last three days, and each time leaves me feeling even more breathless than the last.
Mason Cooper almost kissed me.
And now, I am here, in the front seat of his car, ready to go on a date with him.
How has so much changed in such a short amount of time?
The driver’s door opens, and Mason slides in beside me, flashing me a smile. I watch as he puts the key in the ignition and turns it over.
“Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.
He chuckles. “I told you, you’re going to love it.”
I haven’t seen Mason since the evening of Hannah’s party, but he’s been texting me all week. When he told me he’d made plans for this Thursday for us, if I was free, I attempted to talk him into telling me what they were. But he’s remained obstinate. It’s a surprise.
Mason turns onto the freeway, driving right past the exit for what constitutes a downtown in Harts Creek.
I turn to face him. “We’re not staying in town?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I figured we’d do something a bit different than the typical dinner at Marcy’s and movie at the cineplex.”
Now, I’m even more intrigued, and I settle into my seat, watching as the scenery passes by my window, smiling at all the old, familiar sights that I haven’t had a chance to see since my return.
When we pass the abandoned barn off the side of the interstate—its walls covered in various graffiti, proposals, welcome home messages, and the like—I spin toward Mason, laughter bubbling up from my chest. “I can’t believe that place is still standing.”
Mason nods, leaning forward to peer up at the aged structure through the windshield. “Yep. They actually painted the whole thing white a few years back, trying to cover up the years of people using it as their own personal billboard. You’d never know it though, looking at it now.”
I crane my neck to watch as the barn disappears from view. It makes me smile to see that despite how different things might be in my own life, some things never change. There’s comfort in the mundane.
“Remember that time we snuck up there in the middle of the night? You had swiped a few beers from your parents’ fridge, and we thought we were so cool, hanging out up in the loft, getting buzzed on a school night.”
Mason laughs. “I had the worst hangover during homeroom the next morning. The squawk from that damn intercom during announcements nearly did me in. I can still remember the piercing pain that shot through my head.”
I groan. “Oh my God, don’t remind me. I think I was sick for a week.”
“We were such lightweights,” he says with a chuckle. “A six-pack of beer, and we were drunk off our asses.”
I laugh as I let my head fall back against the seat, relishing in the feelings of the memory. “We had some good times, didn’t we?” I say, closing my eyes.
“We sure did,” Mason says, and the weight of his voice forces my eyes open.
I turn to him, finding his eyes locked briefly on my face, his lips curled into a half-smile as he reaches over and takes my hand in his. He gives it a gentle squeeze before settling our clasped hands on the center console between us and turning back to the empty road.
I close my eyes again, letting myself just be here, in this instant. I don’t analyze it. I don’t try to read into what it might mean. I just hold Mason’s hand, absorbing everything that’s good about this day.
All too soon, the car slows, breaking the spell that’s fallen over us. When we come to a complete stop, I’m forced to let go of Mason’s hand as he shifts into park. I open my eyes, hating that this has to be over but excited to see what the rest of the evening holds.
My gaze flickers up to the big red-and-green neon sign, and all the disappointment I might’ve been feeling only seconds ago completely disappears. I playfully shove Mason’s arm with both hands, unable to keep the thrill from my voice.
“Shut. Up! This place is still here?” I scream as I fling open the door of the SUV, forgetting to unfasten my seat belt in my haste to get out.
Mason laughs as I’m pulled back against the seat, but I don’t give it a second thought. I unbuckle the seat belt and leap out, clapping my hands as I bounce from one foot to the other.
Mason climbs from the driver’s side and joins me. “Told you you’d like it,” he says with an amused grin.
“Love it. Oh my God, I didn’t think Nickelcraze still existed!”
I take off for the front door, skipping in my excitement to get inside. When I realize Mason isn’t following, I turn and grab him by the arm, dragging him behind me. “Come on!”
He chuckles as he stumbles along beside me. “There aren’t many of them anymore. But Nickelcraze is an institution around here. I don’t think they could close their doors even if they wanted to. The people would riot.”
We must’ve come to this place a dozen times during the few months of our friendship. It was the one place I always felt safe, being out with him. The one place I knew his friends would never see us.
I didn’t lie when I told Cami Mason had never made me feel like he was ashamed of me. That was solely on me. I hadn’t wanted to face the sneering looks and pointed remarks from his friends. I dealt with that enough at school every day. I hadn’t wanted to deal with it during my downtime as well.
We step through the front door, and it’s like traveling back in time. Nothing has changed inside these walls, aside from maybe a game here and there. The same loud carpet still blankets the floor, the black light overhead illuminating the colorful swirls. The same beat-up, old tables still sit in one corner next to the food counter, the smell of stale fry oil filling the air. They even have Nelly’s “Country Grammar” blasting over the speakers, which only further takes me back to my youth.
“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” I say, marveling at the space around me.
Mason chuckles. “I know, right? It’s a bit eerie, the way this place is frozen in time.”
I look over at the Wack-A-Mole game, in the same place it’s always been, the same neon sign hanging above, a bucktoothed
beaver–looking thing blinking at me, trying to entice me to feed him nickels.
I shake my head. “Not eerie. Perfect.”
Mason smiles as he leads me to the counter, feeding two ten-dollar bills into the change machine before turning and handing me a cup with my coins.
“After you,” he says, gesturing out to the playland before us.
We spend the next hour playing Skee-Ball, Pac-Man, and half a dozen other retro games from our past. I laugh manically as I outscore him on a two-player racing game, our arms brushing as we sit next to each other on the seats. They’re made for people much smaller than the two of us, but the closeness to Mason doesn’t bother me in the slightest. And if the way he keeps intentionally leaning into me is any indication, I’d say he has no problems with it either.
After I beat him yet again at Wack-A-Mole, we decide it’s time to break for dinner. We head over to the food court, where we each order two corn dogs, a side of French fries, and a chocolate shake.
Mason chuckles as he sits down across from me. “Hannah would have a fit if she saw me eating this.”
I raise my eyebrow in question. “She doesn’t like corn dogs and fries?”
He shakes his head. “Oh, no. She loves them. I just try not to let her eat them too often. Growing kid and all that.”
I wave a finger at him. “Ah, so you mean to tell me you’re cheating and not letting that sweet little girl of yours join you.”
He laughs, lifting his corn dog to his mouth and biting off a large chunk. “Something like that,” he says around the mouthful of food.
We eat in silence for a minute, stealing glances at one another every few seconds before one of us drops our eyes to the table between us. It’s my turn to do exactly that when my eyes fall on something etched into the table.
“No. Way!” I shout over the loud music of the arcade. “Mason, look!” I shove my tray out of the way and point excitedly at my discovery.
Mason cranes his neck, trying to read what’s inscribed. I watch as a wide smile spreads across his face when he’s able to make it out.
“MC + MW wuz here. Man, I was so eloquent back in the day.”
I laugh, pulling out my phone so I can take a picture. “I remember the exact day you did this. The manager caught you carving the table and kicked us out. He said we were banned for life.”
“Joke’s on him then, isn’t it? Because look at us now,” he says, leaning back in his chair and linking his hands behind his head, a smug smile on his face.
I snap a few pictures, forcing Mason to bend down and take one with the two of us on either side of the writing. I look like I have about twelve chins with the way I have to hold my head to take the pic, but I can’t even bring myself to care. I’m just so damn excited about finding our initials.
“So, tell me about Maddy Woods,” Mason says once the moment has finally passed.
I bite off another piece of corn dog. “What do you want to know?”
He leans forward, folding his arms on the table in front of him. “Everything. What have you been doing since you left Harts Creek? Obviously, you went to vet school, like you’d always planned. But what else?”
I chew slowly, trying to buy some time as I weigh my options. How candid do I want to be here? I mean, there was a time I would’ve opened up to Mason without a second thought. But those days are long gone. As much as it feels like it, this isn’t just two friends hanging out at the arcade and shooting the shit.
This is a first date.
Even still, I don’t want to start off whatever this … relationship might be, with lies. Or omissions of the truth, if not outright lies.
“Well,” I start off slowly, glancing up at Mason to make sure he really wants to hear this, “after I moved away, I went to college, like you said. Got into Columbia’s vet program, so I moved to New York. That’s where I met Jesse …” I trail off to give him another tentative look.
Most men don’t like hearing about previous relationships, especially not on a first date. And while Mason’s jaw clenches a bit at the sound of another man’s name, he doesn’t look angry or even offended. He looks interested.
“Jesse was your boyfriend?” he asks to spur me on.
I nod once before stopping and shaking my head. “Fiancé actually. We were engaged for almost two years.”
“Two years, and he never sealed the deal?”
I laugh without a trace of humor. “Jesse was more in love with himself than he ever was with me. It just took me a little while to realize that.”
“Sounds like a real dumbass,” Mason says, sitting back in his chair again.
“Jesse or me?” I ask with a raised brow.
Mason’s jaw drops. “Jesse. Of course I mean Jesse.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Most of the time, I feel like the world’s biggest idiot, wasting as much of my life as I did with him.”
Mason leans forward, reaching across the table and covering my hand with his. “He’s the idiot, Mads. He had the greatest girl in the entire world standing right in front of him, and he let her get away.”
I feel the heat as it rushes to my cheeks, my entire face and neck flaming as he stares at me, his eyes radiating the truth in his words. It’s too much—the intensity of his gaze, the power of his statement hanging in the air between us. I have to drop my gaze from his, a knot forming in my throat that I desperately don’t want to break free.
After a few seconds pass—and I no longer feel like I’ve swallowed a boulder—I clear my throat and meet his eyes again. “So, what about you? What has Mason Cooper been up to these past twelve years?”
The light in Mason’s eyes dims a fraction as he realizes I’m changing the subject.
He shifts in his seat, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, blowing out a breath as he does so. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well, I gathered from Hannah’s party the other day that you used to be a firefighter. I remember how much you always wanted to do that. Why did you stop?”
He pulls out his phone, unlocking the screen to display a background picture of Hannah before plunking it down on the table between us.
“You quit for Hannah?” I ask, my brow furrowing with my confusion.
He nods. “My wife left shortly after Hannah was born. She couldn’t handle the responsibilities of being a mother—or some bullshit like that. Once it was clear to me that she was never coming back, I quit the team. I knew that I couldn’t keep putting my life in danger, not if I was the only thing Hannah had. I couldn’t leave her with nobody.”
And just like that, that damn lump is back, threatening to choke me as I fight my emotions. “I know I’ve said it before, but you really are a good dad, Mason.”
“You could say it a million more, and I’ll still never feel like I’m good enough.”
Now, it’s my turn to reach across and cover his hand with my own. “And that’s what makes you so great. Hannah is lucky to have you.”
He turns the phone around, love filling his eyes as he stares at the picture of his daughter. “I’m the lucky one.”
After the heaviness of that conversation, neither of us much feels like playing any more games, so we leave the arcade, my hand encased in his, a smile plastered on my face as he leads me to his car.
We drive back to the clinic in silence—I told him I had some paperwork I had to complete after work, so he picked me up there for our date—but it’s not the tense, awkward silence that usually accompanies first dates. Instead, Mason rolls down the windows of his SUV, and we enjoy the feeling of the brisk evening air, a playlist of some of our old favorite songs coming through the speakers.
It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in a very long time.
Mason gets out and walks me over to my car. “You sure I can’t give you a ride home?”
I shake my head, not wanting to admit that after he drives off, I’m just going to head into the clinic.
Mason leans in, his hands coming up to cup eit
her side of my face. His nose brushes lightly against mine, his lips mere inches from where I want them to be.
“I don’t want this night to end. Not yet.”
“Me either,” I admit, my voice breathless as my heart hammers in my chest.
“Come back to my place,” he says, his voice husky with desire. He clears his throat. “Just for a little bit. Come have a drink. I’m sure Hannah will be thrilled to see you before she goes to bed.”
I pull my lip between my teeth. He mentioned during our text exchanges earlier in the week that his mother had agreed to look after Hannah while we were out. What would she think if I came home with him after our first date?
But before I can give the idea too much thought, Mason leans in, gently pressing his lips against mine. “Please, Maddy.”
Any reservations I might’ve had are instantly forgotten the second his mouth touches mine, all rational thought disappearing completely.
“Okay.”
13
Mason
“And she’s down,” I say as I step back into the living room, my voice low so as not to risk waking Hannah.
It took three bedtime stories and an extra ten minutes of snuggle time, but I managed to finally coax my little bundle of energy to sleep.
While I’d told Maddy that Hannah would be thrilled to see her, nothing could’ve prepared me for the flash of blonde hair as Hannah tore past me and launched herself at Maddy. She didn’t settle down for a full thirty minutes, jumping around the room and singing at the top of her lungs about Maddy’s unexpected presence. Turned out, my mother had decided the lasagna I’d left in the oven wasn’t enough for her only granddaughter. After dinner, she’d driven Hannah over to the local creamery and bought her two scoops of cookie dough ice cream.
Which, to an already-excitable five-year-old, is essentially the same thing as giving cocaine to the Energizer Bunny.
My mother apologized profusely before promptly turning and fleeing the chaos she’d created. One of the joys of being a grandparent: you could spoil the shit out of your precious little darlings and then give them back to their parents to suffer the consequences.
