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Sebastian’s low chuckle interrupted his thoughts. “If you say so. You know you can have it all, right?”
Mason shook his head. “Not getting into this with you. She’s just a friend.”
Sebastian’s laugh seemed almost in pity as Mason walked away.
Just after midnight, Mason drove past Main Street, taking the long way home. A light was on in Pippa’s bedroom. It took everything inside him not to pull the car over and knock on her door. But he couldn’t. Amara, Bently’s foster daughter, was babysitting until Mason got home, and she needed to go.
Mason steered his way through Shattered Cove, until the streetlights disappeared and the houses became more and more spaced out. He pulled into his driveway. Lyric’s car was already here to pick Amara up and take her home. Normally, he would be against leaving three teenagers alone in his house, but Amara was a responsible young woman, and Aspen adored her. Lyric was as shy as they came, and gave his babysitter a ride home, which made it easier on Mason. Mason hoped the kid got the nerves to tell Amara how he felt before it was too late.
Mason walked in the door. Amara and Lyric were playing cards on the living room floor.
She looked up when he closed the door. “Hey, Mr. Wright.”
“Hey, guys. Aspen sleeping?”
Lyric picked up the cards while Amara got to her feet. “Yes. She went up at nine thirty.”
“Perfect.” He dug in his wallet and handed over the cash for her service.
She tucked the money into her back pocket as Lyric came up behind her and handed her his sweatshirt. “It’s c-c-cold.”
She smiled and wrapped the material around herself. The boy didn’t say much, Mason guessed on account of his stutter. But when he did speak, it was mostly to Amara.
“Drive safe, you two.” Mason nodded to Lyric.
“W-w-will do,” the young man said, opening the door for Amara.
Mason locked the door behind them, waiting until the headlights left his driveway before he pulled his cell out of his pocket and texted Pippa.
Mason: Are you awake?
He jogged up the stairs and opened Aspen’s bedroom door to check on her. She’d flung her covers off the bed and was sprawled out like a starfish. He stifled a laugh. Didn’t matter if she was three or thirteen—she always slept the same. Pain flitted through his chest. His baby was growing up so fast. He picked up the covers and slid them over her before leaning down to kiss her forehead.
His phone dinged in his pocket, alerting him to a text. Aspen didn’t even stir; she was dead to the world. He crept back to the hallway and pulled his cell out as he walked to his room.
Pippa: Is this a booty call?
Is that all she thinks I want?
Was it, though?
No, he wanted her friendship too.
Mason didn’t bother responding. He dialed her number.
She picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” Her voice was husky, like she’d just woken up.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I-I couldn’t sleep.” Her voice shook.
Concern twisted inside him. “I ran into Bently and he told me what happened with the shop. Why didn’t you call me?”
She was silent a beat and then sighed. “Because I’m not your responsibility, Mason.”
His own words came back to haunt him. “But we’re friends, right? And friends tell each other when shit like this happens.”
“I didn’t think you’d care.”
