Page 13 of I Choose You

My feet pound against the treadmill, the conveyor belt moving faster than my go-to setting. With each step, sweat trickles down the back of my neck, soaking my shirt. The burning in my calves takes me back to being on the field when Luke and I used to play soccer. The memory seems so far away compared to the reality of it only being a year or two since we played in college.

This workout is exceptional on every damn level.

I love getting caught up in the endorphins of a satisfying run. The tightness of my muscles as they stretch and flex. The thumping of my heart rate as it climbs. It’s just the distraction I need this morning. One of the best choices I could have made for myself this week was crawling out of bed an hour earlier than normal to hit the gym before work. Definitely better than getting extra sleep. I know my body needs it, but I almost needed this more.

The truth is, deciding what to do about this promotion is weighing heavy on my shoulders. I keep flipping back and forth, and it’s stressing me the fuck out. I need to choose, but it’s hard when all these thoughts keep filtering in.

If I don’t jump on it soon, Richard is going to tell me I lost out; then what? I’ll be devastated. The problem isn’t that I don’t want to go. It’s that I do. The benefits are killer. The pay is incredible, triple what I’m making now. But it’s not about the money for me. It’s about having the ability to use my formula consistently to perfect it more. To smooth out the edges and make it more effective. And the team of people I’ll have helping me…

I’m mind blown.

It’s not every day offers like this come. If I didn’t have Luke and Mackenzie to take into consideration, I would have already told Richard to sign me up. However, my twin brother and best friend mean more to me than anything. So, naturally, I’m thinking of the various ways this could play out. It’s not the thought of Luke or the worry that our relationship might suffer that gets me because we’ll always be close. Jesus, it’s written in our damn DNA code.

It’s Mackenzie who plagues my mind.

Kenzie and those damn freckles, the ones I have loved since we were eight, and her hazel-green eyes that have always reminded me of the caramel apples at the county fair back home. She creeps into my thoughts whenever I consider leaving.

I think about moving to Austin, and those sweet apple orbs stare up at me clearly.

I think about the team that’ll work for me, and her short, curvy stature pops into my mind.

I think about the benefits and the perks and the missing out on the little things that put a smile on my face, and that kind, gentle voice penetrates my eardrums.

She’s on the other side of every thought, just around the corner whenever I approach my decision. And it’s not her fault. It’s me who’s responsible. The moment I saw Mackenzie Jones, I knew she would be a permanent fixture in my life.

Fuck. I’d offer her the world if I could.

As Luke was kind enough to point out, my dating life is nonexistent. I’d rather hang out with Kenzie on the weekends than hook up with a random chick. I’d feel like total shit if I offered what little time I do have to someone random rather than the people in my life who deserve it most. And not just that, but I don’t want to be with anyone else. It wouldn’t feel right. I know that from experience, from the few times I’ve been intimate with other women after the startling realization of knowing I’ve got it bad for Mackenzie.

It’s why I’m considering not going.

Texas is so fucking far away. My head might be able to handle a move, but I’m not sure if my heart could. It’s getting to me. I want to be close enough that only a short drive separates me from her, not hours of air travel. Unfortunately, I can only delay the inevitable for so long, and it’s wreaking havoc on my nervous system.

My feet strike the conveyor as I reach to slow the setting and lower the incline. I wring my hands out, pleading for the anxiousness to just drip and stick to the belt below. Harsh breaths leave my mouth as I swipe the back of my hand over my forehead. Then, I take turns lifting each arm above my head and lean into a stretch on each side.

I’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. Everyone would question it and wonder if my head was screwed on straight. And what would I say? What would my excuse be? That I didn’t go because I’ve been falling in love with my best friend for the last decade?

Yeah, no.

6

Mason

“I still can’t believe you’re going to do it.” Luke sets up the nachos on the coffee table, and I sit back on the couch, the neck of a beer bottle hanging loosely from my hand. He does this thing where he shakes his head once in disbelief. “It blows my mind. You’re smart as shit, but the fact you’re going to Texas is crazy.”

I know what I need to do, the answer I should give my boss, but I haven’t done it yet. I’m sitting on my decision before I share it. But, as usual, Luke takes a seat inside my brain and is aware of my thoughts even if I haven’t shared them yet. His uncanny ability to read my mind would freak me the hell out if I weren’t used to it after all these years.

Bringing the bottle to my lips, I ask, “How do you think Kenz will handle it?”

He pauses for a second before continuing to distribute the nachos onto the foil covering the coffee table. It’s a full spread and something we occasionally do. We toss down chips, fry meat, and drizzle cheese over the top. Sometimes we add tomatoes and onions. It’s easy, delicious as hell, and makes for an enjoyable get-together meal.

He sprinkles the fried meat on the nachos and then drizzles cheese over the top. “She might freak, might not. Does it matter?”

“Get the hell out of here.” I take a swig of my beer. “You know it matters.”

He pins me with a look, and I’m well aware of what he’s going to say before the words leave his mouth. “We love her, but you can’t let her change your mind. This is big, Mase. Fucking colossal. You’ll regret it and resent her if you allow her to weasel her way into your head.”

Fuck that. There’s no way I would ever resent the girl that picked me up through my first break-up or held my hand when I was terrified as shit to get braces.

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