Reputation (Mason Family 2)

I arch a brow. “Are we thinking about a future with him? Because, if you are, I’m totally okay with that. I would wrap that boy up and put a bow on him if I were you and not me and I was into hot football player kind of guys.”

She bumps me with her shoulder. “We’re still so new, so I don’t know. We have to finish our senior years of college, and there are a lot of things to figure out. But …” She looks at me with stars in her eyes. “I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“Awwww.”

“Stop that,” she says, swatting at my shoulder.

“What? I think it’s sweet.”

She snorts. “Bellamy Davenport, you never think anything is sweet.”

I follow her lead. We walk around the side of the house and toward the driveway.

“So, friend,” she says as we approach her car. “I’ve given you all day to bring up your night last night, and you haven’t. Now I have to prod.”

“But do you? Do you have to?”

She nods. “Tell me. What’s going on?”

“Who even told you? I didn’t tell a soul. And I can’t imagine that Coy went home and called Boone right away.” I think about it. “Boys don’t gossip like that, do they?”

She laughs. “I think they totally do gossip like that, but I really had no idea that anything happened for sure. You were just in a great mood today, so I hedged my bets.”

“You tricked me!” I gasp. “You little devil.”

“I did trick you,” she says, still laughing. “But I like it. I like this version of you.”

Yeah, well, me too.

I’ve enjoyed having a reason to smile today. It has felt good to have a layer to my life that was fun and exciting. Getting little texts from Coy throughout the day has been a sweet distraction from everything else going on in my life.

And the sex? Fucking phenomenal.

I’ve had a lot of sex with a lot of men, and I can admit that every element of last night was beyond what I—of all people—thought was possible.

I wasn’t sure if that was because it was Coy, and there’s so much history between us. I thought maybe that added an unexpected element that somehow leveled it up. Sent my orgasms flying. Sent me flying in some blissed-out state of happiness. Rejuvenated something deep inside me with every touch.

I felt loved.

But it wasn’t that. It wasn’t love. It was convenience or passion or a response to a situation with someone you know intimately.

It was that for him.

And I’m okay with that.

I think.

We make it to the front of her car and stop. We don’t open the doors or get in—just stand there looking at each other.

“We secured a peace treaty,” I tell her.

“Did you say a penis treaty?”

My jaw drops in faux surprise. “What has gotten into you?”

“Hollis’s penis, actually.”

“You’re such a child,” I tell her, laughing.

She sighs. “So what happened? What brought on the white flag?”

“He came over to see my dad. And I kind of was mid-meltdown, anyway …”

She furrows her brows. “You had a meltdown because he came to see your dad?”

“No. I think … I think it was more of a confluence of events that really brought it on,” I say, impressed with myself for knowing the word confluence. “I was still mulling over seeing Coy at all.” And dealing with our kiss. “Seeing him being nice always affects me because I forget so often that it’s possible.”

“He’s not a bad guy, Bells.”

I know.

“I guess I was already overwhelmed by everything that’s going on …”

My voice trails off as I think of reading the letter from Dad’s doctor a few minutes before seeing Coy walk into Dad’s house. The date for his PET scan is in a couple of days and getting the pre-approval paperwork from his insurance company was enough to throw me completely off-balance.

But I don’t tell that to Riss. I don’t tell her much about my dad at all.

Cancer is a millstone on everyone and not just the patient. It has a way of trickling its venom to anyone that hears about it. The last thing I want to do is to spread the burden to my friends.

Besides, if Riss and Boone know just how bad it gets, it would put a shadow on every interaction we have. It would be impossible to grab a drink or go get a pizza or paint our nails and watch trash television without them worrying if my phone is going to ring or if I’m going to cry or if it’s appropriate to make a joke.

It's hard to explain to people that life has to keep going on. You don't have cancer pop up in your life, and all of a sudden, everything stops so that you can deal with it. Days go by, jobs have to be performed, dinner has to be made—things continue to go, and it's nice to be able to have one space that you can escape to and have everything feel normal for an evening or a weekend.