Page 91 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
Willow
Zachand I go to the bookstore that might be owned by Mason’s mom after lunch under the guise that he’s a writer and needs to know about all the local bookstores. Luckily it’s two young girls working, so obviously neither are his mother, which results in equal feelings of relief and disappointment on my part.
“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about it again,” Zach says. “But just out of curiosity, what would you do for real if you saw Mason again. I mean, Seattle is big, but it’s not huge.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter since we agreed we aren’t talking about it, right?”
“Yes, we did. But humor me. Just pretend.”
“Fine.” He and I are sitting in the lounge part of the bookstore. It’s in the back of the store and has huge cushy furniture, perfect for grabbing a book and losing yourself for a few hours. Which I would be doing now except Zach has started up a conversation and who am I to deny him if he wants to talk. Never mind that it’s about Mason. That has nothing to do with it.
“Um,” I continue, “Well, it depends. In this scenario of yours, was he previously engaged to AshLynn or am I just meeting him randomly?”
“This fictitious scenario is based on reality. So, previously engaged.”
“Okay.” Not that I’ll admit it to Zach, but I’ve thought about this a lot. More than is probably healthy. Because the main question, always, is whether I couldbewith someone who waswithmy sister before. Even if they didn’t have sex, which he only briefly hinted at once, and I’ve not been able to come up with a satisfactory answer to that. I mean, the reality is they were barely together a few weeks. The fact that they rushed an engagement doesn’t really factor in that heavily. All parties involved ultimately admitted it was rushed and too fast. They weren’t even in love. So, what’s the harm? Right?
But then there’s another part of me that would always wonder if I was as sexy as AshLynn? As good a kisser? Is my body as alluring as hers? Am I as spontaneous? As pretty? As funny? Even though she’s so much younger than me, I feel as though I’ve lived in AshLynn’s shadow her entire life. She came out of the womb perfect and beautiful. She never had one of those awkward phases as a tween, her teeth were naturally straight, her hair naturally blond, and eyes piercing blue. Her body proportions are every man’s dream—big boobs, small waist, narrow hips with just enough curve to entice. And she’s short. That perfect five feet three inches.
Meanwhile, I’m weighing in at five feet nine inches, close to six feet in heels. And my body is fairly straight up and down. I’m slender, I know that. But I have no curves. My boobs are small, my waist is normal, my hips are narrow. In fact, my waist and hips are almost the same. I have the build of a tall slender boy. It’s why I favor A-line skirts and dresses. I can fake hips. And a million other items help me fake boobs. I am the epitome of false body advertising.
Not that a lot of men have stayed interested enough to get past the false part of the advertising. Whereas AshLynn falls in love multiple times a week it seems, I played it close to the vest, with my two past relationships. So, here’s me a too-tall woman in her early thirties with an unnatural attachment to her dog, her dead best friend, and her gay best friend: no real interests to speak of, no hobbies, no job.
My god, I’m boring.
“Am I boring?” I ask Zach.
“Are we changing the subject already?” he asks.
“No. Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“I vote no. Tell me what you would say. Would you make me proud and go balls to the wall? Or would you puss out and run away?”
“I’m sure I’d puss out and run away.”
He sighs. “Let’s say you went balls to the wall. What would you say?”
Think big balls.
Big balls to the wall.
“What about—I know you were engaged to my sister, but it was clear that match was doomed from the start. I think you and I have got something and I want to give it a shot. What do you say?”
“I like it. Straightforward, simple, perfect.”
“Thanks,” I preen.
Zach and I both know I’m not that person. But wouldn’t it be fun if I was? I’m more the person that would clam up, turn red, stammer a lot, and look at my feet. But I always want to be that cool collected gal who doesn’t blush, has all the right words, and stands tall and proud, maintaining direct eye contact.
One of the many things that I love about Zach is that he challenges me like this sometimes. To prepare me for real-life situations. Obviously seeing Mason is not something that would happen, but it does help me to feel a little badass regardless when he puts me through these scenarios.
“I’m going to get another coffee from that cart out front. Do you want anything?” Zach asks.
“Um, sure. Maybe just an iced tea.”
“Cool. Be right back.”
We are the only people back here in the lounge section, and it’s nice. Almost like our own private living room, except there is a humongous assortment of books to choose from. Zach has a crazy impressive library at his house, but I think even he gets bookstore envy when we visit them. And this one has such a great vibe, it makes me feel kind of cool just hanging out here.
