Page 87 of The Night We Met

“It’s not nice to assume that because I design clothes, that I can’t play pool either.”

Mac sinks two shots and misses on his third. “Fine. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thank you.” I proclaim and go up to the table to spot my next shot. I find one and sink one, and then the last stripe. “8 ball corner pocket.” All I have to do is lightly hit the cue ball for it to hit the 8 ball. And I do just that. I stand upright and look at Mac who is still in a bit of shock. “Good game Mac. It was fun beating you.”

I rack my cue and go settle back between Mason’s legs. The warmth of his body calms me. It’s weird how these years apart didn’t dull the feelings I had for him.

Mason places a kiss to my cheek and I soak it in. Wrapping my arms further around his. Securing my body to his.

The rest of the night passes with easy fun. I get to know the guys a little better. They tell me about their time in the league, how many teams they’ve played for, if they ever had an injury that they thought they wouldn’t come back from;are they married or do they have any kids? Are they close with their families? They ask me how I came to be a fashion designer, when my original plan was psychology. And why I decided to launch my brand in Cincinnati rather than Philadelphia. I regal them of how I was heartbroken in college and used that as a way to heal.

When Mason and I were in school, we talked about the possibility of moving to Cincinnati. I mean, Nashville could have always been the plan for us, but we figured a place far enough away from our families was a good plan. Ohio has an equal balance of city-life and home-life; it also isn’t far from Pennsylvania or North Carolina so that was a win. When Mason got traded to the Bengals he said he thought it was a cruel twist of fate…or even karma. I told him the same thing about my line. That I unconsciously made the decision to move here.

Kamryn

October 2019

Can I sleep standing up? It’s the thought that runs through my mind after every Fashion Week. I’ve just completed another round at Paris Fashion Week and I’m beyond ready to sleep for the rest of the week. The months leading up to the show are non-stop around the office. We eat, sleep, and breathe all things Paris before we’re off to the show. While I still have some people in the office working on the Kamryn side of my company, I always give those of us that come back from Paris the rest of the week off.

I’m waiting at the baggage claim when my phone dings with a text.

Mason: Hey, baby. I have a car waiting for you so cancel the Uber I know you already ordered. Jax has Lucy and Poppy with her at her loft. The girls and I helped set up your staycation so all you have to do is start your bath when you get to your house. Let me know if you need anything else.

I could cry. At the airport baggage claim. I could actually cry. Would I come off as crazy if I just bursted into tears? The flight was long and I could barely relax my body enough to get some sleep. I kept running through the show wondering if I could have done something different. If I could have added more pieces to my line or if I should have taken out certain pieces.

Me: You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you. I do need one more thing.

Mason: Anything, sweetheart.

Me: You. At my house.

Mason: I’ll be there soon.

I smile down at my phone until I hear the sound of the luggage being dropped to the baggage claim. Moving towards an area that’s less crowded, I patiently wait for my bags to make their way to me.

It takes about ten minutes. But once I have my suitcases, I make my way to the waiting cars and see a driver holding up a sign with my name.

“Hi, I’m Kamryn.”

My driver is a middle-aged Black man sporting a goatee. He’s wearing the standard driver outfit: black suit with a black tie and white button down shirt. He acknowledges me with a smile and tells me his name is Aaron. Grabbing the handle of the backdoor, he ushers me in before tending to my suitcases and putting those in the trunk.

Me: I didn’t need a car to take me home.

Mason: Let me spoil you, please?

Me: I guess I have no reason to object?

Mason: None. I’ll see you soon.

The ride from the airport is quiet, which I’m grateful for. I’m thankful that Aaron doesn’t attempt to make idle chitchat. Once we hit the highway back to my house does my body relax and my eyes start to droop.

I must’ve drifted off as I jolt forward when the car finally stopped. Looking around I see my house to the right of me and I give Aaron a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” I say with a grimace.

“No worries Ms. Rawlins,” Aaron volleys back before he’s out of the car and hefting my suitcases out of the trunk. My suitcases are set on the ground before I realize that he said more than two words to me.

Gathering my bag and phone I amble out of the car. Giving Aaron a ‘thank you’, I lift the handles of my suitcases and head up my front sidewalk. I’m almost to the door when the sound of another car pulls into my driveway. Hesitantly turning, I see Mason clamber out of the driver seat.

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