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My heart sinks into my stomach.
18
LANEY
The rideinto town is awkward between Mason and me. Just quiet except for the crackling static of the radio.
I’m so regretful I couldn’t say goodbye to Nate the way he deserved. With a big embrace. And a kiss. Multiple kisses, probably.
We didn’t spend the night together, though it had become our new normal. Was too strange with Mason in the house.
Not only has our secret been revealed, it’s been revealed to my ex-boyfriend. An ex-boyfriend I know wants me. How does a person handle that? Other than walking away, leaving it all behind?
I know I can’t do that. I can’t leave Nate behind.
But I can’t leave Mason either. After what happened between us, I still feel tethered to him. I still love him. Still want him close. But I’m with Nate now.
And I can’t have both. I have to let one go. Don’t I? I have to decide and release one to the world. To another woman.
But can I do that?
I’ve never gotten over the idea of Mason being with someone else. That idea is what the whole axis of our relationship snapped over.
And now…now I’m not sure I’ll be able to get over the idea of Nate finding someone else either.
How selfish is that? Not wanting the men I care for to be happy if I can’t have them?
I want them both to want me. Toneedme.
I feel so turned around, I’m not sure where to go.
Mason parks the truck on Main Street. The big pickup looks a bit out of place in front of the dainty, ornately decorated shops.
“This way.” Mason nods toward the turquoise-striped awning.
“You know the place?”
He gives me a sheepish smile. “Been here, Laney.”
I almost swallow my tongue remembering Nate’s mention to our aborted second anniversary.
“We used to come up here when we were kids. It was the one time Edwin would have all of them together and then my parents would tag along. Those were fun times.” Mason shoves his hands in the pocket of his sherpa-lined jacket.
There’s a nip in the air, one I didn’t prepare for. I pull my cardigan tighter on me as we walk toward the diner. “That’s sweet.”
“Cold?”
“We’re almost inside,” I say as if that’s the answer.
I don’t want him to offer me his jacket. The big thing will dwarf me. And I’ll never want to take it off. It will become my second skin. That’s how his clothesused to be for me.
He had to put an embargo on me “borrowing” things from his closet only for them never to be returned.
I couldn’t help that his big T-shirts were so cozy. Smelled of him. Made me feel like I was his.
I can’t feel like I’m his. Not yet. When I don’t know who I want.
Mason and I enjoy a greasy lunch of burgers and fries and milkshakes.
