Page 76 of What are the Chances

Mason doesn’t respond, just continues looking at the menu.

“I know it makes things… complicated… me living here and you living there.” I flush red as I stammer through my response. I hate putting myself out there like this. For all I know, he’s only visiting Sam and doesn’t plan on staying or having anything to do with me, but I still want to address the awkward elephant between our two continents.

“Do you think I should get soup? I didn’t plan on it, but with the rain and fire… I think I want it.” Mason’s eyes are glued to the glossy, maroon menu. I blink, unsure why he’d skip over such a big conversation piece and return my eyes to my own list.

“Soup sounds good,” I mutter, pulling my chilled glass of wine to my lips again.

“Soup it is.” He slaps his menu down on the table in jest and waves a finger for our waiter. Once we order, I wait Mason out. I want to know why he wanted to do this. My stomach is in knots, my heart is thumping hard, and my breathing is ragged. Thoughts of him wanting to be friends or moving on run through my mind, and I decidedly can’t handle it.

“Why did you want to have dinner with me, Mase?” I gently ask.

He leans forward and puts his hand under his chin as if this entire thing is a lighthearted affair and not something dangerously close to causing me a heart attack.

“I wanted to have dinner with you because I miss you, and this distance between us is fucking stupid. Now, tell me what it’s been like here? I heard you met my parents.”

Mason wiggles his eyebrows in jest and something plastic and inflatable opens inside my chest, filling me with hope and so many unfair emotions, it’s not even funny.

“I did meet them, they had me over for dinner. Apparently, someone spilled the beans you and I had been a thing, so your mother was a little chattier than she probably normally would have been. Or at least Sam said she wasn’t normally that nice and chatty with people.” I blush and tuck my hair behind my ear.

“She called me… my mother. She likes you, a lot. Told me to stop being an eejit.”

I laugh, tossing my head back and smile wide.

“She told me stories about you as a baby… there were pictures.”

“Feck me.” Mason leans back and groans through his hands as they cover his face.

“You were so cute with that red hair and that strong desire to dress like Tommy, the Green Power Ranger.”

“He was the only one I liked, plus he had Kimberly, and she was hot,” Mason jokes, while sipping his beer.

I’m laughing so hard, my stomach hurts.

“They told me to come back over once they returned from Italy.”

Mason nods slowly, playing with the salt shaker.

“You probably should… I’d like to properly introduce you this time.” His green eyes meet mine and pause.

I swallow and whisper, “As what?”

He doesn’t shift, doesn’t move a muscle. “As mine.”

Our meal comes, breaking the moment. Mason changes the subject and moves to less complicated waters while he eats. He tells me about his new job and some moron who thinks he’s the shit, making Mason’s life miserable. I laugh and listen, but my stomach churns uncomfortably as he talks about this new venture. I can only imagine he’s digging his roots deeper into the L.A. soil—far away from me.

I decide to move past the sadness that comes with the idea of him starting something new in California and decide instead to dissect his words “As mine.” It was like something off a crime show with the words on a billboard-sized monitor, some decryption software tearing at each letter to find clues. I’m a mental mess of confusion.

Mason pays the check and keeps talking about the difference in weather between California and Ireland and how he feels like his bones have weather whiplash because of it. We’re outside, two blocks from my house, but I’m not ready to let him go.

“So… uh… would it be okay if maybe I...” Mason stammers, tugging on his neck like he’s embarrassed. I wait, toying with my keys, hoping he’ll want to keep this going as much as I do.

“Could I come see your place?” Those golden flecks shift to mine.

For a moment, I’m lost and can’t believe I’ve missed how gorgeous his eyes have always been. Maybe, I just never looked deep enough to see them. They’re captivating. My mind says, “Think about this,” but my heart and some place low in my belly says, “Hell yes, let’s do this.” Two against one won out.

“Sure, it’s just a few blocks from here.”

We walk shoulder to shoulder, not holding hands, down the few blocks that stand between us and my apartment.

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