Page 10 of What are the Chances

Mason

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE fucking kidding me.” I rake my fingers through my hair and rest my elbow on the passenger door. Shaking my head, I bite my thumbnail, staring at the wide open, bright green fields stretching out for miles.

“Do you know any other word besides ‘fucking’?” Charlotte asks.

She’s sitting in the front seat of my brother’s car with her perfect hands resting in her lap. Staring at the pale pink nail polish painted across each of her nails, I remember how those hands were draped across my lap on the airplane. The only barrier between my growing erection and her hand had been the zipper of my jeans. With the frustration still settled in the bottom of my stomach, I keep my focus trained on the rolling fields of my homeland. Water droplets dot the window from the earlier rainfall.

“Sure I do,” I mumble. “There’s ‘fuck’, ‘fucker’, ‘fuckity’, ‘fucked’.”

She turns in her seat, narrowing her eyes.

“What?” I scoff. “Does my language offend you?”

“No,” she scoffs back. “But ‘fuckity’? Don’t tell me that’s an Irish word too.”

“You’re so annoying,” I mumble, shaking my head.

“Speak for yourself.” Her voice is flat and obviously unamused. She turns back around in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Jesus, Mason, quit being an eegit.” Sam eyes me in his rearview mirror, shooting me a look of warning. I can tell how protective he is of Charlotte, and it makes me wonder how long he’s known her. If Sam is so protective, it also makes me curious how long Charlotte’s been with her boyfriend.

“You’re the one who’s the eegit, you arse,” I mutter, banging my knee against the back of his seat.

Sam dramatically jerks forward, gripping the steering wheel. “What the hell, Mason?” Without breaking his eyes away from the road, he reaches around his seat and blindly punches my leg.

“Ow. You fucking arsehole!” Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to pull away from Sam’s strike. I wrap my hands around my knee, rubbing away the pain.

Sam laughs, tilting his head back against his head rest. The pain in my knee quickly dwindles away, and I start to laugh with him. Once his laughing subsides, Sam turns his head against the headrest and faces Charlotte.

“Eegit.” He taps her knee, grabbing her attention. “Now that’s an Irish word.”

“Eegit,” she repeats slowly. She pauses and tilts her head to the side in thought. “Eegit. Sounds close to idiot. Am I right?” She turns around again and faces me, waiting for me to tell her whether she’s right.

She’s smiling at me as if she somehow knows she’s guessed it right. Like she’s now part of an exclusive club and is about to receive a special prize. Something about her enthusiasm makes my stomach twist. She’s cute and sexy at the same time. She’s still looking at me, waiting for me to give her the answer she’s looking for.

“Yes,” I sigh.

“Sam’s right then,” she laughs, turning back around, adjusting herself in her seat. “You are an eegit.”

The ride to my family home in Ennis is a short drive from the airport. It’s been forty-five minutes since our flight landed and twenty-five minutes since Sam picked us up outside the airport. Finally making it to Ennis, Sam drives us through the busiest part of the town, taking us the scenic route, obviously for Charlotte’s benefit.

“Mason and I used to come down here all the time when we were kids.” Sam points to several of his favorite shops and pubs.

Charlotte follows Sam’s finger, shifting in her seat to get a better view. When we make it to the edge of the market, we head in the direction of my parents’ house.

“What’s the age difference between you two?” Charlotte asks.

“Nine months,” Sam says. “I’m older.”

“Nine months?” Stunned, Charlotte trades glances between me and Sam and giggles. “So, you’re telling me as soon as your mom had you, she got pregnant with Mason?”

“Yep,” Sam grins and looks in the rearview mirror. “And you know what they say? The best ones always come first.”

“That’s not even a thing.” I roll my eyes. “No one says that.”

Sam shrugs. “I do, and that’s what matters here.”

“You guys are literally Irish twins,” Charlotte says with a grin.

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