Reputation (Mason Family 2)

I had similar thoughts throughout the day.

I thought about him when I got up and made myself breakfast. What would it be like to expect him to come back after golf? When I stripped my bed after our night together, I thought about how I’d only spent one night with him in my home in my life. How many nights could we have spent if we’d gotten along? I thought about him at the house with Larissa. What would it feel like to see his children with baseball mitts and guitars running around the yard while they wait on dinner?

It’s a wonderful vision of a future that I would manifest for myself if I could.

But I can’t.

Even wishing for something that feels like inviting heartbreak into my life. It’s too good. Too perfect. And if I know anything about life, it’s that nothing good and perfect exists.

I lace my fingers with his.

He brings our interlocked hands to his mouth and presses a kiss to our joined knuckles. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he says, working his fingers back and forth against mine. “I’m nervous about this.”

My heartbeat picks up as I wonder if he’s already second-guessing whatever this is between us.

I can’t blame him if he is. I’m scared too. There’s so much that can go wrong here, so much that’s untested, unproven. We’re taking our history and relationship that’s worked one way and trying to flip it on its head.

But instead of just a friendship on the line, it’ll be my heart now. And I don’t know if I’m fully prepared to sacrifice that.

“Stop it,” he says, pulling me into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re overthinking everything on a level that only you can achieve.”

“It’s what I do best.”

He smiles against my hair. “Being with you is the easiest thing that I’ve ever done. It’s crazy, Bells. Wild.”

“I know.” I wrap my arms around his waist and tuck my cheek against his chest. “I woke up this morning and couldn’t believe this was real. It feels impossible. But then I sort of took stock of myself and how I felt, and I realized it’s the most natural progression in the world.”

He nods. “I don’t know how this is going to work. Do you?”

I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know, Coy. Can it work?”

“It has to.”

“In what capacity?” I pull away far enough so I can look into his eyes. “I mean, what does this look like for us? Is there an us?”

He looks into the deepest part of my eyes and smirks. “You better fucking believe there’s an us.”

His confidence, something that’s drove me nuts for years, feels different. Instead of being irritating, it makes me feel safe in the strangest way.

“I would never ask you to leave Savannah,” he tells me. “Not with your father being so sick and your friends here. Your life is here. But …” He gulps. “I can’t just walk away from my life in Nashville either. You know?”

His forehead mars as I absorb his statement.

The words rattle around in my chest. I already knew this was true, and this conversation was coming, but to hear the uncertainty about what comes next causes a smidgen of panic to spread through me.

“I know you can’t leave your career,” I tell him softly. “I wouldn’t want you to do that. It would be stupid. But I can’t leave my dad either. I won’t.”

He bites his lip, nodding. “We’ll figure it out.”

I want to figure it out. I want to figure it out as much as I want my next breath. But there are a lot of things that I fear we’re ignoring.

“Is this realistic?” I ask him. “I mean, I’ll be here. You’ll be there. Is it worth it to try to make it work?”

“Do you think we have a choice?”

I snuggle against his chest, his words providing a comfort that I didn’t know I needed. His sweatshirt is soft and smells like him.

“The thought of waking up and having you be gone again … doesn’t even break my heart. It broke before. It … it feels like my heart would be shattered.”

He inhales a deep, ragged breath.

“I’m scared, Coy. I’m scared of this not being feasible. If this can’t work out between us, a part of me thinks that we should just walk away now and preserve our friendship and let it be. It’s better than having to lose you all over again.”

“You don’t have to lose me.”

“You say that now,” I tell him. “But you don’t control everything. I mean, I lost my mother. She didn’t choose that. I’m about to lose my father.” I take in a shaky breath. “I want to be with you so much that I can’t stand it. Being in your arms feels like the one place in the world I should be. But it comes with the possibility of so much pain …”