Reputation (Mason Family 2)

“Why do I let him have this kind of power over me?” I pour creamer into my cup. “Why do I let him bother me so much?”

I sip my drink as I sit at the table. The stillness of the kitchen helps to center me despite my lack of sleep.

My gaze scoots across the kitchen. It slips over the refrigerator filled with images of my friends and me. It skips the sink and the dishes that still need to be done from two days ago and over the countertop riddled with mail. It doesn’t stop until it lands on the built-in desk at the end and the calendar hanging on the wall behind it.

A circle encompasses the last day of the month. A more optimistic version of me drew a smiley face inside it—the day I was supposed to have completed my introduction to manifestation.

“That must’ve been a vodka version of me,” I say before sipping the coffee again.

Late one night a few months ago, Larissa and I watched a video on YouTube about manifesting happiness. You’re supposed to be able to bring good things into your life through attraction and positive thinking. There were steps to take and a prettily colored journal you could order from an Etsy shop—which I did, complete with the cute little stickers—to help you manifest the life you always wanted.

I don’t know if Larissa went all-in and ate the high vibrational foods and spent time in nature or what, but she manifested herself Hollis Hudson. All I can say is that my junk food diet and time spent with a pre-teen and Netflix did not give me a Division One tight end.

“Maybe I was onto something,” I say before finishing my coffee. “Maybe I need to clear my head and start fresh.”

The more I think about it, the more I like it. The more it makes sense.

It worked for Larissa. She’s in bed with the man of her dreams right now. The only thing in my bed is a remote control with dead batteries.

Standing, I take my cup to the sink. The bills and envelopes scattered on my counter only reinforce my newfound hope for the future. Sure, things are a mess right now. My life is definitely on hold because of Dad. But maybe I need to open my chakras and invite positive energy in. Perhaps that will bring clarity and direction.

And dick, but that’s a close third on the priority list.

I head toward my bedroom and change clothes in a hurry. I try to remember the things the guru told us to do. The only one that seems doable at this hour is to reconnect with nature.

I toss my hair into a misshapen bun, and I ignore the stain on my sweatshirt as I head out the door.

My breath billows in front of me. I shiver against the chill in the air. This temperature might freeze my chakras before I open them.

Not knowing what to do and feeling very out of my element, I sort of amble around the yard. I remember someone saying to touch the ground with your bare feet, but it’s too damn cold for that. Instead, I find a chaise by the pool and sit.

I shiver again.

My hands slip between my knees as I try to keep them from shaking. I move in the seat in an attempt to stay warm.

Immediately, I regret this decision.

I stand, ready to abort my mission, when I look toward the gate and see Coy. He’s leaned against the post in gray sweatpants and a black hooded sweatshirt looking downright edible.

“Morning,” he says.

“Yes, it is.”

He grins. “Why are you up so early?”

“Why are you standing there like a creep?”

He rolls his eyes as he walks toward me.

My body stops shaking, and I don’t shiver anymore. Instead, a warmth fills me that heats more the closer Coy gets.

“I was standing there because I heard a noise from over here,” he says. “I was making sure no one was breaking in.”

“We have cameras.”

“Good for you.” His grin gets wider. “Why are you up?”

“I already told you.”

He comes to a stop only a few feet in front of me. “No, you didn’t. You called me a creep.”

Oh.

I lift my chin and try to resist the pull of his body. “I was getting in touch with nature.”

“On a plastic chair next to a swimming pool?” He laughs. “This is not nature, Bells.”

“What do you want me to do? Go on a hike at dawn and get eaten by a bear?”

“Maybe.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Which is it? Hiking or getting eaten?”

“I don’t know.” His grin turns into a deep, unsettling smirk. “Do you like getting eaten?”

My entire body clenches at the way the words fall off his kissable lips. His eyes hold mine, and I can’t pull them away even when I try.