Page 65 of I Choose You

I cave to her need for girl talk, lowering my voice so no one else hears if they walk by my office. “We had sex every day this week,” I whisper to her. “Multiple times.”

Those perfectly plucked brows of her shoot up. “You’re lying! Give me more!”

A smile sneaks onto my face, and I shake my head. I never had the opportunity to have a female best friend while dating to talk about this stuff, but it’s nice having the chance to vent. “I’m as serious as the Cheeto stains on your fingers.”

She glances down at her hand, then digs back into the snack-sized bag. “I hope he’s treating you as well as these Cheetos are treating me. Damn, they’re good as hell.”

The time I’ve spent with Mason is significantly better than a measly bag of chips. I lift a brow. “Your Cheetos have nothing on Mason Sacks in bed.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” She finishes the bag and tosses it into the trashcan at the side of my desk, licking her fingers clean. “At least one of us is having a good time.”

My face wavers. “Did it not work out with Trevor?”

“Trent. His name is Trent.” She shakes her head and falls back into the chair. “I took your advice and brought it up over dinner one night. Turns out it was not a miscommunication, so I dumped his ass.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I had a weak moment. I won’t ever let a man put insecurities like that in my head again.” She wags her head. “Nope!”

“The Nelly I know doesn’t even know what that word means. I’m glad you realized your worth. How’s Jamie doing?” She’s the high school volunteer Jessie brought on last week. Since she surpassed the credits needed to graduate, the school gave her early release for work. It also gives the shelter positive publicity.

“She’s a fast learner. I have her doing rounds on the crates. After that, I’ll show her how to work the washer and dryer. You need algebra and calculus under your belt to know how to work those damn things. I better go check on her now that I got all the gossip I came in here for.” She winks as she stands, her expression softening. “You really do seem happier, Mackenzie. Whatever you and Mason are doing, keep it up, because I like this look on you.”

I nod and offer her a smile before she goes. The second my office door closes, my memory returns to this morning and what Mason asked. Then, my gut twists in agony over knowing he’ll be gone in two short weeks, and whatever happiness Nelly sees on my face will be as long gone as my best friend.

The day isn’t going as planned. We arrived at the airport late and almost missed the flight, and it was my fault. I got out of Jessie’s later than intended. One of the animals was sick, and I waited for the vet to come and handle it before leaving for the day. Mason assured me it was okay and that we’d make it, but honestly, guilt continues to rock my body.

And I’m not entirely sure why.

Then, when I shoved my carry-on into the space above our seats on the plane, it swung out and smacked Mason in the face. His cheek bruised easily. Nothing terrible, but it’s a tint of permanent blush I notice every time I glance at him. I held an ice pack on his face for half the flight hoping it would somehow vanish. To top it off, it was pouring when we landed yesterday, so we couldn’t even take in the sights.

I tell myself I don’t know why I’m out of sorts, but secretly, I do.

It’s this trip. The permanency that will come after that’s bothersome. Along with me wishing it wasn’t happening.

I’m hoping today goes better, but it’s not looking promising. I woke with a gnawing in the pit of my stomach. It’s like the dread that came when Mason announced his promotion. The anxiety is consuming and trying to suffocate me every minute of the day. My head thumps with a raging headache from its persistence.

When a cab pulls to the curb of our hotel, Mason motions for me to go first. We’re headed to see his apartment this morning, then we’ll spend the afternoon walking around Austin and taking in the sights like we were supposed to do yesterday. Even though I’m wound up over what this trip means, I still look forward to spending time together. I always look forward to being with Mason.

Mason reads off the address of the apartment building to the driver as I take in the clearer weather. Clouds linger in the sky, but the rain is gone. I wish I were enjoying it more than I am. Wish this odd feeling weren’t taking so much of my energy.

“I think you’ll like this place.” Mason settles back into the seat and weaves his hand through mine before setting them on his knee, his thumb rubbing me mindlessly. “I only saw pictures, but they were really nice.”

“Hm.” I’m quiet, keeping to myself and taking in the scenery around us as the driver merges back into traffic. We pass the University of Texas and the Capitol building. Eateries and stores blur behind busy traffic as we approach the Austin Harbor Bridge and drive over the Colorado River. We follow Interstate 35 for some time, then the cab driver takes an exit, driving us to a quiet suburb that isn’t as heavy with traffic.

The entire drive, Mason holds my hand in his lap. The entire time, I work to hide the anxiety beating just below the surface.

Mason pays the cab driver to wait outside for twenty minutes. Long enough for us to go up and check out his apartment before heading back to the middle of the city. I’m surprised his apartment is in a smaller building with only five floors. It’s off the beaten path and relatively quiet, something that Mason told his boss he wanted when he gave him the promotion and asked for his living requirements—so he says. There’s a dog park across the street. A Whole Foods and various bakeries are a short walk away. My skin pebbles with nasty goosebumps because while it’s similar to our home back in Maine, it’s better here.

“Not too bad, huh?” Mason leans into my ear as we stop at the front desk. “Seems like it’s in a friendly area.”

“It’s beautiful, Mase. I’m sure your apartment will be, too.” I turn to smile at him, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. The building is magnificent. The foyer comprises white marble floors. The ceilings are slabs of natural wood, and black fixtures hang down. Older images of Austin line the walls. This building might not be in the city itself, but I’m sure it competes with the luxury of the hotels there. It’s a step up from our built-in-the-eighties three-bedroom back in Maine.

The older gentleman at the front desk greets us and provides us with an apartment key and we’re off, filling an elevator to climb to the fourth floor.

Mason grabs my hand, steering me out of the elevator toward his apartment door when it opens. We read the numbers on each, stopping in front of apartment 428. When he turns around, he scratches the back of his neck and blows out a breath before playing it off with a chuckle. “I might be nervous. Is that stupid?”

If anyone is nervous here, it’s me, and the reason I haven’t been totally enjoying myself. He’ll love this apartment from the first step in, and my stomach will fill with lead. I can’t stand the thought of him being excited to leave Maine—me—for it. Still, I walk into his arms, circling mine around his back. “Don’t be. It’s going to be great.”

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