Mason
I stare at the screen in our home theater, barely registering the scene in Poltergeist when the closet doors spring open, and Carol Anne struggles to hold onto her bedframe as the evil force sucks her into the endless void.
Blake has somehow managed to squeeze beside me on the narrow armchair. When the white light emerges from the on-screen closet, he lets out a high-pitched shriek, his fingernails sinking into my arm.
"Jesus, gremlin!" I hiss, extricating his nails before I bleed to death. He's like a velociraptor. "I thought you said you like scary movies."
"I do." Blake pants, his wide, blue eyes glued to the giant television. "Yeah, I'm fine."
I sigh, pressing 'pause' on the remote.
It's Halloween. Grace and Aidan are touring The Bates Motel in Philadelphia with Aunt Stephanie. Then, they're spending the night with their cousins. Mallory is on a date with Choir Boy, leaving me to watch Blake. I'm pissed Mallory is with another man, but I'm overjoyed that she trusts me enough to take care of Blake on my own. I'm a grown-ass adult, after all.
We recently got back from trick-or-treating. You'd think a pillowcase full of high fructose corn syrup and gum rot would make a kid happy, but Blake has been in a sour mood. He changed out of his Loki costume—of course the little shit would dress up as a supervillain—and I suggested a scary movie to raise his spirits, no pun intended.
After multiple jump scenes and dozens of candy wrappers, he still has an angry line between his brows. No seven-year-old should be this upset on Halloween.
"What's up, dude?" I ask, trying fruitlessly to put some space in between his body and mine. "You've been more sullen than usual. You haven't tied my shoelaces together once this evening."
Blake shrugs, avoiding my eye. "I miss Momma."
Don't we all.
"She'll be home in an hour or two," I tell him.
"It's her fourth date." When he finally does look at me, I see the genuine worry in his expression. "I didn't even get a chance to put a Twinkie in Mr. Higgins's tailpipe."
I snort into my hand, finding the idea laughable. "Is that what you've done to Momma's previous dates?"
Blake nods. "I don't want someone to take her away from us."
Fuck, this kid is going to make me cry. Blake doesn't show vulnerability too often. In fact, he's been a living nightmare for me since I crossed the threshold. For once, we're on the same page. I don't want someone to take Mallory away either, but for entirely different reasons, all of them selfish.
"Your Momma loves you too much to let anyone take her away." I gently knock his chin with my fist, trying to shake the frown off his face. "Deep down, you know that. There is nothing and no one who will keep her from loving you."
Blake blinks a few times, his eyes narrowing in inquisition. "You love her too, right?"
I chew on my bottom lip, nodding.
"Then, why are you in so many pictures with other girls?"
His question is a hard slap, leaving me reeling. Blake has obviously seen the gossip columns, largely poking at my dating life. Worse, that means Grace and Aidan have read them as well. Once again, I didn't think about how my actions would be portrayed by the children I left at home.
While I've slept with more women than I care to admit, my only real relationship was with Mallory. I keep girls at arm's length, never giving them any reason to yearn for something more. Since leaving New Hope as a teenager, I've kept myself emotionally closed off from the opposite sex. I don't have a heart to love anyone else.
That's more than I can say for Mallory. She married my best friend. He's dead now, and I've come home, but she still insists on seeing other men. She broke my heart, and she continues to step on it with the heel of her boot. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she was it for me. But I'm not good enough for her, and I don't know if I ever will be.
"How do I explain this?" I wonder aloud, summoning an analogy that a child will understand. "What's a toy you really wanted but didn't get?"
Blake answers immediately. "Battlestar Robot X04."
"Right." I rub my palms together, praying I don't blunder this. "So, you didn't get this robot because it was too expensive, or the store was sold-out, or it got recalled. Whatever. You got bored without your robot. What did you do?"
He shrugs, his tiny shoulders lifting a few notches. "I played with the toys I already had."
"Imagine that feeling, but for grown-ups."
"So, Momma is like your toy?"
Fuck, I wish.
"No," I say instead, giving him a stern look. "Women are not toys, and you should never treat them like they are."
Blake sighs heavily, rising from the chair to stretch his legs. "Being an adult seems like a lot of work. I don't think I want to get old."
"Don't worry, gremlin." I chuckle, feeling cold now that the child-sized heating pad has been removed from my injured hip. "You'll get muscles and a driver's license, so it's not too bad."
He wrinkles his nose, appearing like he still has something on his mind. "Are you saying we can't go to the restaurant and ruin Momma's date?"
My best friend's kid and I may have more in common than I thought. A grin spreads across my face as I look at my tormentor in a new light. David may've hated me, but he'd be proud of his son.
"Now, that is a wonderful idea, little dude," I applaud, jumping from of my seat.
Blake's smile matches mine as we dash out of the theater. "I'll get my shoes on, you get the keys!"
***
Mallory
I'm on my third glass of merlot, but I've coated my stomach in enough carbs that I hardly notice the buzz. I haven't stood to use the bathroom in over an hour, so that could change once I get to my feet.
Daniel insisted on appetizers and dessert to accompany our entrees and complimentary breadsticks. Even if I wasn't an active person, I wouldn't be able to refuse tiramisu. Especially when it's homemade in the back of Fabrizio's kitchen, which is an Italian restaurant in New Hope. In fact, it's one of only three places to eat—if you don't count the peanuts in the local dive bar.
"I've never heard of a five-date rule," Daniel teases, sipping his water.
He drove tonight, so he's not drinking. I'd understand if he wanted one glass, but he insisted that he won't take any chances with me under his wing. He's a warm-hearted, protective man, and I couldn't be happier with how our dates have gone. I told him about my five-date rule as more of a reminder to myself, because I'm seriously considering making an exception in his case.
"It's a thing," I insist, crossing my legs to quell the agonizing ache between them. I'm like a walking, talking horny vagina. If I don't get a real dick in me soon, I might faint. They'll have to wave smelling salts under my nose, comprised of male body odor.
Daniel grins, his eyes momentarily dipping to my cleavage. "I'll take your word for it."
Tonight, I went all out. It's Halloween, after all. I'm wearing a formfitting little black dress, matching heels, and a pair of feline ears I excavated from Grace's closet. She wore them in sixth grade when she played Grizabella in Pemberton Academy's reimagination of Cats. She disliked the acting but loved singing "Memory."
Thankfully, when I said goodbye to Blake earlier this evening, Mason was in the bathroom. I didn't want him trying to put more clothes on me as I walked out the door, which he did on my third date with Daniel. We were going to a salsa dancing class, for Christ's sake. What did he want me to do, wear a ski suit? Absolutely, was his answer.
I take another sip of wine, brushing thoughts of Mason from my head. "How is the Christmas recital coming along?"
"Great." Daniel interlaces his fingers over the table, which has already been cleared of our dessert plates. "Honestly, this is the easiest job I've ever had. The students at Pemberton are in a league of their own. It's far improved from the riffraff at the remedial school in my hometown. Every other day, I was breaking up a fight."
Pemberton Academy is an elite academic institution. There's a reason most people would go bankrupt trying to get their kids through a semester. I hated the aristocracy and rigidness when I attended, but I appreciate it as a single mother. Mason pays for Grace and Aidan's tuition, and I've been using David's life insurance to keep Blake enrolled. By the time he graduates, there'll be just enough left in the account to pay for his college, if that's what he chooses.
"I did have trouble leaving them, though," Daniel continues, spinning his glass around in slow circles on his coaster. "No matter what, as a teacher, you grow to care for your students. Most of them didn't know any better. They came from impoverished homes with broken families."
"Why did you come to the States?" I ask, genuinely intrigued.
"Change of scenery, I suppose." Daniel shrugs. "I studied at Juilliard, but I'd never seen smalltown America. When I was offered the position at Pemberton, I felt I owed it to myself to step out of my comfort zone. Besides, there was a woman..."
"Ah." I lean forward, clinking our glasses together. "Now we're getting to the good stuff."
Daniel grins, shaking his head sardonically. "She was toxic for me. Unfortunately, I found out a little too late."
My smile falters, a heaviness weighing down my heart at the idea of this honest, compassionate man being hurt. "What happened?"
"She came home from a pub one night, drunk off her arse. She was so tossed, she didn't realize I was home. That's the only explanation I can conceive as to why she fucked another bloke on our sofa."
My mouth pops open, jaw practically resting in my lap. "That's awful. I'm so sorry, Daniel."
"Learning experience." He shrugs nonchalantly, flagging the waiter for the check. "Anyway, I had to leave town. Couldn't stand seeing her with him every day."
I gasp, placing my hand on my chest. "She stayed with him?"
He nods, but I don't find any regret in his expression. It's just the grimace of a man who was bested by someone he thought he could trust. He licked his wounds and moved on with dignity. Good for him. I would've thrown a pie in her face, at the very least.
"Wonderful way to end an otherwise lovely dinner, right?" he jokes, smirking at me from across the table. His blue eyes shine with warmth, his hand resting in the space between us.
"Thank you for telling me." I reach forward, placing mine over his. "It's not easy repeating the things that have hurt us, even if they don't ache anymore."
Daniel swallows, and the air between us flickers with something... more. It's not necessarily desire, but there is a connection being made. A foundation, a possibility—like a match has been struck, and the flame is close to the candle's wick. I've recognized this feeling once before. With David.
"Buona serata," the waiter greets us. He's an Italian American boy, the son of Fabrizio. He goes to the public high school, so I don't know him personally, but he has a kind, youthful face. "Everything good?"
"Perfect," Daniel answers, not taking his eyes off mine. As he speaks, a blush creeps up my neck. "We'll take the check, please."
"The check has been taken care of, sir." The waiter shifts his feet uncomfortably. "Mason Reeves paid for your meal."
I blink twice, then whip my head around, scanning the dimly lit restaurant for that asshole's smug grin.
He's sitting at a booth on the other side of the fish tank, and he's brought my son with him. When he feels the heat of my glare, he smirks, giving me a two-fingered salute. Blake hops up and down in his seat, waving excitedly.
"I am so sorry," I whisper, my blush turning crimson. "This is totally uncalled for."
"There's no need to make excuses for his behavior," Daniel insists, rising from our table as the waiter ambles into the kitchen. "You're not responsible for how he acts."
I take his hand, letting him lift me from my chair. "Still, it's embarrassing."
Daniel grimaces, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. "Shall we go over there, then?"
I'd rather not, but Mason's intimidation tactics need to be met with brutal force. He's worse than Blake, lest I forget he's here as well. Hopefully, this will be a wonderful learning experience for both of them.
We cross the restaurant, my coat folded over Daniel's arm, his hand at the small of my back. The arrogance disappears from Mason's expression, his eyes zeroing in on my point of connection with Daniel. The lines of Mason's face harden, his glare growing cold.
"What are you doing here?" I hiss, coming to a halt at their booth.
Mason flicks his wrist toward Blake, who has chocolate around his mouth. "The gremlin was hungry."
I motion at the collection of brightly colored wrappers on the table. "Is that why he's eating Halloween candy?"
Mason sighs, leaning back in his seat. "Look, Blake wanted to see you, and I figured it would be kind to pay for your meal."
I stare at him, at a loss for words. "Kind?"
"We all know how poorly teachers are paid these days." Mason's thin-lipped smile is pinned on Daniel, who stands directly behind me. "It would be a shame for Mr. Higgins to waste this month's rent on one dinner."
Daniel clears his throat. "I assure you it wasn't a waste."
Mason's nostrils flare, his jaw ticking.
I turn around. "Would you mind sitting with Blake while I speak to Mason outside?"
Daniel holds my coat, allowing me to slip my arms through it. "Of course. Take your time."
Mason mutters something snarky under his breath, but I'm already speed-walking out of the restaurant, adrenaline steadily dripping into my veins, solidifying my anger. Mason follows me to the front of the building. I'm careful to keep Blake in my line of sight, on the other side of the window, in case he tries to light Daniel's hair on fire or something equally terrible.
"Why are you doing this?" I roar, turning so quickly that Mason nearly barrels into me. "No one in town will date me because of my connection to Mason Reeves. On top of that, you managed to scare James off, and now you're trying to do the same to Daniel."
I underestimated Mason's rage. It wasn't completely pinned on Daniel. By the look on his face, he's been waiting to get something off his chest. His eyes widen, the brown of his irises lighting like he's channeling energy from some deeply emotional place. His skin pales, the muscles in his throat tensing.
"Do you know what it feels like to come home from college and see your girl with your best friend?" he growls, narrowing his glare at me. "To see the family you left behind, moving on with another man? I'd rather break every bone in my body than go through that pain again."
He's not getting it, or maybe I'm not seeing the bigger picture. But if I haven't seen clearly before, tonight isn't going to sharpen my vision. I'm too enraged to think straight.
"Do you know the amount of guilt I've had to overcome in order to date after David's death?" I throw back, my skin getting hot, although the night is below freezing. "I'm a widow with three children. Do you know the confidence it takes to put myself back out there?"
Mason steps backward, lost in his own thoughts. "Why did you fuck me at his funeral?"
I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "You want to do this now?"
"Why not?"
There's a myriad of reasons—primarily, Blake and Daniel are watching us from the other side of the glass—but I can't seem to voice them. Instead, I let him guide me into this fight like a touchdown pass.
"I wanted to feel something other that grief!" I yell, hitting my hand flat against my chest. "I wanted to forget about the overwhelming guilt on my shoulders, even if it was just for a few minutes."
Mason blinks slowly, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. "You used me."
When he opens his eyes, I see the hurt that he's buried for five years. Maybe longer. I've hurt him. Every single relationship I've had with a man, I somehow end up causing more harm than good. When I speak, it's just a whisper.
"It meant something to you."
Mason steps forward, getting his face in mine. "Every fucking second I spend with you means more than you will ever know."
We should've had this discussion over a decade ago. Maybe then, we could've done something about it. I could've explained myself, without years of battle wounds to fight through.
"When you went to college, I couldn't just wait around for you to come back." My voice shakes, my lips trembling on the words. "I had to move on for both of us. If I didn't, it would be too much of a temptation for you. You wouldn't have signed with the NFL. You wouldn't have lived your dream."
He begins to pace, running his hands through his hair. "So, you shacked up with my best friend. You chose a path that took you further from me, knowing I would do the same."
"I didn't love him at first, but I learned to." I've never admitted this to anyone, not even David. "He was a good man and a good father. The kids adored him. He was reliable. Safe."
Mason stops pacing. "And I don't make you feel safe?"
He's not talking about physically or financially. I know Mason would never hurt me, and he's always provided for us. In fact, there's no safer place I've felt than in his arms. Even when I was seven months pregnant with twins and about to burst into motherhood, all he had to do was cuddle me, and my anxieties would disappear. We're different people now. We're parents now.
"Your love makes me feel like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff," I admit breathlessly, as if I can see where the ocean crashes into the jagged rocks below. "Like if I let you in a second time, I might not survive the fall."
"Who says there has to be a fall?" he challenges, a shimmer of hope blanketing his beautiful face, lightening his frame. "Give me a chance to prove you wrong."
I shake my head, closing my eyes. "There's too much at stake if things end badly. We have children together. Grace and Aidan come first. We can't risk ruining the tentative friendship we have."
"I don't want to be your friend; I want to fucking kiss you." I feel his body heat before he even touches me. His hands cup my cheeks, lifting my face to his. I'd open my eyes, but I'm scared he'll see that as an invitation. "I want to be the first person you see when you wake up. I want to be the person who holds you when you fall asleep at the end of a long day. I want to be your man."
"Want," I repeat, shuddering at his confession. My body is responding to him in all the right ways, but my brain won't give in. It's too dangerous. "It's always about what you want. What Mason Reeves wants."
He presses his forehead to mine. "I know you want me, baby girl. Just admit it."
I step back, letting the frigid air whisk his intoxicating scent from my system. "The only reason you're here is because you lost your career. You only want me now because you don't have football. I refuse to be your second choice."
I open my eyes, leaving him at the entrance to the restaurant, his hand holding the air where I once stood.