Page 52 of What are the Chances

Charlotte

“DO WE TELL HIM?” I whisper-shout at Mason while I reconnect my bra. Mason is hopping into his jeans and trying to fix his hair like he’s nervous.

“I was goin’ to leave that up to you,” Mason says, slightly out of breath, pulling on his shirt.

My body is still humming from having his hands on me. Sex with Mason is so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, I find it difficult not to jump on him at any given moment. I turn and find my shirt, so I won’t do just that.

“Maybe I should tell him alone first,” I say, tying my hair back to tame the mangled locks.

“Hello? Anybody home?” Sam shouts from downstairs, sounding impatient.

“Shit, hurry up.” I push past Mason who’s pulling on a sock. Why does he need socks?

I open his door, and right as I’m about to walk downstairs, I feel a tug on my hand. I lurch to a stop, and my heart thunders in my chest. Why am I feeling guilty?

Because I love Mason.

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn to face Mason, not ready to accept the truth of those feelings.

“Can ya just give me a second?” Mason’s face is flushed and determined. It’s as if he’s nervous about seeing Sam as well.

I nod and swallow my nerves. His large hand wraps around mine, and the warmth calms me. It feels as though with each beat of my thundering heart, it’s screaming I love him, and I need to tell him. But my brain is louder, and it’s demanding I break the news to Sam first and gauge his reaction. Not just so things don’t go poorly between them as brothers, but because Sam is my friend, and I don’t want him to feel torn between his brother and his best friend.

Right as we’re about to enter the kitchen, I let Mason go to create some distance between us. I purposely don’t glance back to see his face. I need just a second to clear the air with Sam.

“There you two buggers are.” Sam reaches forward and pulls me into a hug, his mouth full of something he found in the fridge, and his clothes smell musty.

“You’re back,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.

He lets me go and stands back a foot or two.

“That I am and a good thing too… seems like you two have run off all our guests,” Sam jokes, stepping forward to hug Mason.

While Sam has his back to me, Mason gives me a ‘What the hell?’ look.

I know he’s confused why I let his hand go and why I need to act like nothing is happening between us, but Sam and Kyle have been friends forever. He needs the full story.

“Hey, Sam. Mason was going to run to the store for some dinner stuff. Do you need anything before he leaves?” I pin Mason with a glare, hoping he’ll catch on.

His firm jaw ticks from how hard he’s clenching it shut. Sam beams and wipes his hands on his already dirty jeans.

“Yeah, bring me home some Guinness if you love me and some easy grub. I don’t think we need to bother ourselves cooking tonight. I’m dead tired.”

Mason nods and gives me one last look before he grabs the keys from the hook and walks outside. I try to take a deep breath in and prepare for the conversation.

“So, how were things with Mase while I was gone?” Sam asks, moving toward the living room. He sits down on a leather chair and leans back.

I take a seat on the loveseat and pull my feet under me.

“They were good… really good.” I pull a pretty, white, knitted pillow onto my lap to help with my nerves. Plucking at the soft fabric, I take a deep breath to get some courage.

“Actually, Sam, I need to tell you something.”

“Is this about Kyle?” Sam leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. I hate the concern in his tone like he already assumes I’ve betrayed his best friend. Guilt tries to lodge itself in my chest, but I push past it.

“Why would you assume it was about Kyle?” I draw my eyebrows together in confusion as I let the question sink in. I’m so nervous, I haven’t fully processed why he’d jump immediately to Kyle.

“I just figured you wanted to talk about it…” Sam’s warm eyes soften with concern, and I find myself relaxing. He must know already. Kyle must have told him about the voicemail.

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