by Tijan
I never wanted to lose it.
But I couldn’t let it be contaminated either.
We pulled apart, and I vowed to deal with my insecurities.
“You ready to run now?” He smiled down at me.
The need to go was back, and I nodded. “I’m going to go fast today. Think you can keep up?”
Mason barked out a laugh, taking off at a light jog. “Pretty sure I can handle myself.”
I laughed, softly punching him in the arm as I caught up to jog with him. He might be some well-toned and trained athlete for the pros, but I was Samantha Fucking Stratton. I could outrun anyone and, nine miles later, I pulled into the lead.
An hour and a half after that, Mason started back for the house, but I had a few more miles in me. They were itching to get out, so I veered down a new running path and amped up my music.
A river wound around Cain, and a part of it wasn’t far from the house. I’d been eyeing the path alongside it since last spring. Now that Mason and I were on sure footing again, nothing could weigh me down. I picked up my pace, swung my arms a little wider, and was almost sprinting within half a mile.
This run felt different. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good. It was just different, and I couldn’t put my finger on why.
Then, after two miles, it hit me.
I braked suddenly.
Nothing was wrong. That was what was different. I hadn’t felt like this since . . . ever.
I’d lost everything I had four years ago—a family, two best friends, a boyfriend. After one weekend, I lost all of them.
I barely survived the first year, but formed a different family with Mason and Logan.
Then I got David back.
I got a loyal friend.
I got a new stepmother.
I started an actual relationship with my real dad.
And the last thing: Analise finally set me free.
The last two things that had been bothering me were the future of Mason’s football career and my concerns with marriage, but both seemed under control now. I’d gotten everything back that had been taken from me: a family, a soul mate, a loyal friend—and now Mason had offered me a future.
But even as I recounted all these good things, something that wasn’t quite right rose to the surface.
I’d been so focused on keeping my new family, on never losing Mason and Logan, that these last four years had passed by without me doing something else important: finding myself.
I still didn’t know my major, and I still didn’t know who Samantha Strattan was—not completely.
I turned and began walking back to the house. After a few hours, I found a curb and called Mason.
He was showering, but Logan answered his phone and agreed to come. It wasn’t long before the yellow Escalade pulled up in front of me, and when we got back home, Mason was dressed in comfortable sweats. He lounged at his desk, looking delectably refreshed.
Those old knots were back in my stomach.
Mason looked up, a smile gracing his features right away. “Hey. How was the rest of the run?”
I stepped inside our room and shut the door.
His smile faded. “I thought we were good when I started back. What’s wrong?”
“Me.”
His smile vanished completely. He sat up straight in his chair, rolling it back to face me. “What are you talking about?”
“When Analise and I moved in with you guys, I lost everything. And over the last four years, you guys became everything to me. I’ve only been focused on not losing you or Logan.”
I sat at the edge of our bed, folding my hands on my lap. “I haven’t really done my own thing. It was always about you guys. I took a job at Manny’s to occupy my time when I wasn’t with you two. I moved into a dorm, and I was going to find my own friends, but it became about you guys again. I got my roommate because of you. Then this last summer, I took that job at a freaking carnival because I had no idea what I was doing. Logan was gone, you were working, and I went along with Mark because that’s what I’ve been doing the last four years. I’ve been just going along with things.”
My throat hurt, and my lungs were constricting.
“Sam.” Mason leaned forward. His voice was soft.
I closed my eyes for a beat. It was that voice I loved so much, and he was going to say what he always said. That’d be okay. That everything would be fine. That he would be there for me. This was part of why I loved him so much, because his love for me was pure.
I shook my head. “Don’t say whatever you’re going to say.”
He frowned. “What do you want to do then?”
“I don’t know, but I think this is another reason why I’m scared of marriage. I don’t know me anymore. I’m a junior, and I should know what I want to do. I should have a major declared by now.”
“Sam.” He scooted his chair closer. “Logan just realized that himself. I think it’s kind of normal. I only knew what I wanted to do because I’ve known since junior high it was business or football. I’ve always loved taking pieces of shit down on the field.” His mouth twisted up in a rakish grin. “Or I’d be my own boss. No way is someone else going to give me orders. I’ve got some authority issues, just like Logan. I just show them in a different way.”
I nodded. “I know, and I know Logan just figured out what he wants to do, but I still have no clue. How can I commit to a future if I don’t know who I want to be in the future?”
“We talked about this. It’s okay. We’ll take our time. We don’t have to do anything right now. Shit. We technically still have a month left of summer, too.”
He made sense. I tried to tell myself that, but I didn’t like this feeling. Now that I’d realized what was wrong, I wanted to fix it. I didn’t want to be lost anymore.
“Sam.” Mason scooted even closer, his knees touching mine now. He took my hand in his. “You can take all the time you want. I’m not going anywhere. Logan isn’t either. You’re not going to lose us, no matter what you do.”
I laced our fingers together.
“I don’t like not knowing myself,” I admitted.
He squeezed my hand. “Then get to know yourself.”
I laughed. “It’s so simple to you. You’ve always known.”
He shrugged. “You will too. It’s just coming at a different pace.”
“Thanks, Mason.”
His eyes darkened and, then I was on his lap. His hands found my waist, and leaning back in his chair, he held me anchored over him.
“You never have to thank me, but if you really feel obligated . . .” He winked, and his teasing intention was clear as his hand slid under my shirt, and he sat up to find my lips.
We moved to the bed after a moment, and all talk ceased.
“Where exactly did you lose yourself? Maybe we could retrace our steps. You could find yourself where you last saw yourself?”
“Har har.” I rolled my eyes.
Logan was walking me to the career center on campus. It was Monday morning, which would normally make the quad filled with students, except we were a month early. The only students around were those who’d stayed to take summer classes, or athletes, like Mason, who were starting their practices already.
I looked over the lush green lawns and sidewalks crisscrossing the quad. It was peaceful and eerie all at the same time.
“I’m going to talk to someone and probably take a test, because I have no idea what I want to do with my future.”
He grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let me help you with that. I’m Logan Kade.” He pointed to himself, then to me. “You’re Samantha Strattan. You’ve been boning my brother for almost four years.”
He held his hand out, and I ignored it. “Har har. So funny.”
“I amuse myself.”
“You make jokes, but you know what I mean. I was picking up trash at the local carnival this summer. If that isn’t a cry for help, I don’t know what is.”
“Don’t knock the
carnies. They have deep pockets we may need someday.”
And I really ignored that one. I could see the career center ahead on our right and picked up speed.
“I know you could’ve spent all day with Taylor,” I told him. “So I appreciate you coming with me.”
He shrugged. “Your guy’s in football all day. My woman’s hanging out with her posse. Seemed fitting that you and I spend the day together.”
I reached for the door, but he grabbed it, holding it open for me.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t envision the career center when you asked if I’d go to campus with you. I thought we’d hit up the cafeteria—sneak in and get free food or something.”
“We can do that later.”
We were crossing through the lobby when I heard my name being called.
I looked up to find one of my track coaches coming down the stairs.
“Coach Carillo. Hey.”
In his mid-forties, with dark black hair and a few specks of gray, he was dressed completely in Cain University apparel. A whistle hung from his neck.
He eyed Logan as he held out his hand. “Logan Kade, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Logan shook his hand. “We’ve met once or twice over the years at Sam’s meets.”
“Mason Kade’s brother.”
“Right again.”
He nodded, a look of approval on his face. His turned back to me and narrowed his eyes slightly. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to see a career counselor.”
“No, I mean, what are you doing in this building?” He pushed back his sleeve and looked at his watch. “Cross-country is starting today. Why aren’t you there?”
“Oh.”
I never joined the cross-country team because of the time commitment it would require. It was a fall sport, just like football, and finding time to spend with Mason was already challenging enough when he was playing. It’d be almost impossible if I joined a sports team with a season at the same time. Besides, track had been my forte since freshman year.
“I never joined,” I confessed.
“What?” His eyes bulged, and he crossed his arms over his clipboard. “Are you kidding me? Why wouldn’t you join? Your running times are amazing. You’d be one of the best on the team.”
“I . . .”
I gave Logan a look. I didn’t know what to say. I should explain to my coach that I chose not to join the team so I could spend time with my boyfriend? I didn’t think he’d respect that.
I shrugged instead. “It’s just a decision I made. I’ve been content with doing track only.”
He shook his head. “You’re here to see a career counselor, but, Sam, I really urge you to join the cross-country team. They could use a runner like you. You know what? Come to my office tomorrow. I’d like to talk about this some more with you.” He lowered his head; his eyes still meeting mine. “Would you do that?”
“Uh . . . sure. Yeah.”
He nodded. “Good.” He seemed to relax and pressed the clipboard against his side. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Clapping Logan on the shoulder, he moved for the door. “It was nice meeting you again, Kade.”
“You too.” Logan waited until the door closed. “Why didn’t you just tell him the truth? You didn’t join because of Mason, right?”
“Because he wouldn’t understand.”
Logan snorted. “You’re being that girl.”
We’d started down the hallway toward the counselors’ offices, but I stopped. “What does that mean?”
“You know. That girl.” He grinned. “The chick who puts her boyfriend first.”
“I’m not that girl.”
“Yeah, you’re exactly that girl.” He gestured to me. “You don’t want to admit it, but you’re putting Mason first. It’s cool, Sam. It’s only half the year. The other half, you get to do your thing. Track.”
I scowled. I hated the way he said that, like I was weak-willed and submissive.
But he was right.
During the fall, I did put Mason first.
It stung.
I blinked a couple times. “So you’re saying I should join the cross-country team?”
“If you want. It’s up to you. Has Mason ever asked you not to? Did he say he’d be mad if you did or something?”
I stiffened. “Are we talking about the same guy?”
Mason put me first. Always had, always would.
Logan’s grin widened. He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Exactly. You know Mason won’t care, so you can relax. You’re not that girl. Your boyfriend didn’t make you choose him over yourself. You made that decision all on your own.”
My scowl was back. “Stop fucking with me.”
“I’m not.” He held his hands up. “Honestly. But I’ve always wondered why you didn’t join. I just figured there was a good reason. I mean, I thought Mason probably factored into it, but I thought there was more to it too.”
I thought for a moment. They had meets every weekend, and sometimes during the week. Mason had practices every day, and there were team activities off the field too. That wasn’t including the games—those he had every week too.
There’d be no time. I would almost never see him.
The thought of it—no. I couldn’t. I started forward again. “I can’t do it. I’ll never see him.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
I stopped again. A spark of anger lit in my stomach. I turned back around to him. “Stop it, Logan.”
“Look.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t be hypocritical here. I love you, Sam. You’re family, and I know Mason would want you to do what you want. You two are good. There’s no vulnerability in your relationship, so what are you doing? Why are you choosing him over something I know you’d love? You loved it in high school. You love running, and that’s all this team does—and not for a just a mile or two. It’s literally everything you love doing. If the only reason you’re not doing it is because of Mason, I know my brother would tell you to do it. Have you guys ever talked about it?”
He knew the answer. I refused to give it. I just stared.
He sighed, his hand dropping back down. “That’s what I thought. Let me guess. He asked if you were going to join, and you said no. That was probably the entire conversation, wasn’t it?”
“Not fully.”
He snorted. “He probably asked if you were sure, and you said you were. Then he dropped it. Right?”
He was a bit closer this time. I gritted my teeth. “You’re mad because he didn’t push me? Is that it?”
“No, but the whole reason you’re coming here today is because you don’t know what you want to do. Maybe you should do something you want to do. Maybe that’s the first step. Instead of taking some stupid test, actually go out there and join the team. Yes, you’re sacrificing time with Mason, but it’s only for a few months. It’s not like you don’t live with the guy. I’m foreseeing lots of midnight screwing happening.”
I wavered. He was right, but it’d be hard.
“If I did this—” I shot a hand out when his grin morphed into a smirk. “—And that’s a big if. But if I did this, you’d have to make me a promise.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“No. Don’t say that. I mean it. You’d really have to make me a promise.”
The smirk fell away, and he grew serious. “I promise.” His head inclined toward mine. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
“You can’t get Mason in trouble.”
His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“He’s walking on eggshells. No drama can happen. Nothing. His name can’t be linked to any kind of scandal.”
He shook his head. “Do you not know who we are? We should’ve been named Mason and Logan Scandal, not Kade.”
“Taylor’s dad said that if anyone got wind of them looking the other way about the tape, there could be consequences. Like, if a lot of people got pissed about a wealthy guy not be
ing punished, Mason would be off the team. He’d be suspended, or worse. You know that’s not good for his career. He still has to get drafted.”
“That’s bullshit. That’d never happen.”
I raised an eyebrow. He knew it could. He just didn’t want to admit it.
Logan cursed, raking a hand over his jaw.
I nodded. “It just takes one person to find out, get pissed, and start talking.”
“I know. I heard what Mase said in Taylor’s kitchen. I just . . . don’t like it.”
“Don’t get him in trouble. Be smart about things. I’ll join the team, if you don’t get Mason in trouble.”
He stilled, eyeing me.
I held my hand out.
He looked at my hand. If he shook it, he’d honor our agreement. That meant no fighting, no pranks, nothing combustible.
The part of Logan that would make him a great lawyer was the part Mason didn’t need in his life right now. He couldn’t go and fuck things up.
He let out a surrendering sigh and shook my hand. “Deal.”
Logan was right.
Mason was understanding and even encouraging when I told him about Coach Carillo and the deal I’d struck with Logan. He laughed a little at that, but I saw the relief in his eyes. It was small, but it was there. I understood it too, because no matter what was best for Mason’s career, if Logan got into a spot, Mason would have his back. Damn the consequences.
This made him a little less worried about having to do that.
I, however, was all sorts of worried. I was going to have to do the unthinkable: I’d have to branch out. I couldn’t stay back within what was comfortable to me.
Last night I spoke to Coach Carillo on the phone, and he promised he would call the cross-country coach and instructed me to show up early. And here I was. Bright and early.
I pulled up outside the coaching administration offices at seven in the morning. There was a small chill in the early morning breeze, but it felt nice. I wore running clothes, running tights under my sweatpants, and I’d skipped my four a.m. run, banking on running with the team later. But my body was ready to go now. I could feel the itch.
