Page 55 of Fun and Games
I made a noncommittal noise, trying not to let on that my heart was thrumming in my chest at the speed of a freight train.
"Want to help me bring all this stuff back home?" he asked. "There's a lot to carry, and I could use an extra set of hands so I don't have to make two trips."
This time the tingle wasn't in my chest, but between my thighs. I'd take any excuse to go back to Mason's place.
"Exactly how much money did you spend today?" I asked as I helped him carry the bags from his car up to his apartment.
"I plead the fifth," he said with a wink. "It's my first time owning a pet. I don't mind going all out."
"Lucky really is a great name," I said, "because that puppy is lucky to have you as his owner."
"I hope he likes the stuff I've bought him," Mason said, a worried line between his brow.
I didn't think a ten-week-old puppy had enough self-awareness to have any preference when it came to toys and food. It would probably be ecstatic just to have a home of its own with an owner who gave him pets and walks every day.
"I hadn't planned on you adopting a puppy when I came up with the idea," I told him. "I just thought it would be a cool thing to write about in our blogs."
"I can definitely turn this into a post," Mason said. "I talked to the rescue center staff and they said they'd been more than happy to have the publicity."
And it would be a lot of publicity, too, considering how popular Mason's blog was. Mine, not so much, but it would still be fun to write about.
"What was your blog called again?" Mason asked.
"Breanna's Bucket List," I reminded him.
"Let me guess," he said. "You have a bucket list of places you want to travel?"
"I do."
"Can I see the list?"
It was such an innocent question. There was no way Mason could have known the sting his words brought.
"I don't really have a list written down on paper," I said.
That was only a half truth. I didn't have a single list, but all of the places I wanted to visit and write about were places that David had written down on those random scraps of paper he used to leave for me. His own version of love notes.
"How many places have you checked off?" Mason asked curiously.
"A third, I guess. Maybe close to half." The ache in my chest only grew with every question.
"And you always travel alone?"
"Yeah." I turned around to stare out the living room window as my face threatened to crumple.
"Wouldn't it be nice to have company?" he continued, seemingly unaware of the storm roiling inside me.
My lungs squeezed tight. I took a shallow breath in. Tears pricked the back of my eyes.
Mason's arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
"Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay?"
I nodded once, but it clearly didn't reassure him.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.
"No," I bit out. "I'm just—"
