Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
My eyes flick to the thin wall separating me from Mason.
He’s right there. He’s within reach. All I have to do is go to him and end this.
My feet carry me to the door before I realize it’s happening, and slowly, I tug it open.
“Hey.”
I yelp, my hand flying to my chest, eyes narrowing on the dark hall.
Chase’s grin comes into view as he comes closer. “Sorry, I thought I heard you up, and I couldn’t exactly sleep either,” he whispers.
“If only we could sleep half as good as Deaton does,” I tease, glancing back at my sleeping baby. My eyes fall to the open laptop, then bounce to the wall Mason is behind once more. “Umm…” I face forward, pressure pulling at my muscles as I force my feet still when they’re desperate to move toward the man in the room next door.
“It’s not too cold out. Want to sit outside for a bit?” Chase offers.
I hesitate, trying to fight the irritation sweeping over me while wondering if I should simply tell him no and march myself right into Mason’s room, his best friend’s eyes on my back be damned. I would be in there already had he not appeared, lowering myself onto the mattress beside Mason and…
I swallow.
And what, Payton?
Forget you have to protect yourself, shield your son from the devastation you’d be left in if…
Chase’s smile falters a bit, and I shrug off my thoughts. It’s not his fault. He’s being thoughtful, offering me an escape from my thoughts with the presence of good company.
“Yeah,” I relent, a bitter taste on my tongue as I grab the baby monitor and a blanket, allowing him to lead the way. At the end of the hall, I glance back, staring at the outside of Mason’s door for a moment.
It’s for the best.
Filling my lungs with air, I spin to follow Chase out back.
I set the monitor on the little table and watch Deaton’s chest rise and fall a few times before looking up at the sky. We’re both quiet for a long while, and I know when he finally turns my way, he has questions.
“Mason hasn’t been himself for a while now,” he says instead, green eyes holding mine.
I nod. “He’s…angry.”
Something softens on Chase’s face, and slowly, he shakes his head.
“Nah. He’s not angry. Trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end of that a couple dozen times.” His chuckle is light but as heavy as the sigh that follows. “This is different. I was hoping he just needed a break, to forget about all the pressure he puts on himself. You know it’s half the reason Ari demanded we all come this weekend, right?” He looks my way. “Noah bought her a plane ticket originally, but she wanted to get Mase off campus for a bit. Group shit and game nights usually do the trick.”
I swallow, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“I can imagine it would.” I nod, a fragile smile pulling at my lips. “You know, I never had a game night before I met you guys, and now it’s like a regular thing. I find I look forward to it.”
“No?” He frowns slightly. “What did you do with your friends on nights in?”
Bitterness coats my tongue. “I didn’t exactly have any that lasted beyond elementary school. My mother’s bullshit was too much for most, and if the girls my age didn’t care, their parents did.”
Chase nods. “Okay, so what about you and Deaton?”
I wait for the sharp pain of guilt at the mention of his name to slice through me, but it never comes. In fact, that never happens when I talk about him with Chase. It’s…nice.
I can’t help but wonder if it’s because being with Chase doesn’t overpower my thoughts the way a certain someone seems to without even trying.
I consider his questions, thinking back to the days he and I spent together, and a small frown builds when I come up blank. It shouldn’t be such a difficult question, right?
We were in a relationship. That should say it all, so why am I drawing a blank?
He’d come to me when he couldn’t stand to be at home, and I would do the same, which was often for both of us. Angry, sad, or lonely, we’d seek each other out.
Pressure builds in my chest, and I shake my head at the way that sounds. As if we were nothing but the stability and support the other craved. A product of convenience. We weren’t.
Right?
What did we do when we hung out?
Faintly, I answer, “I don’t know. Talk shit about our families, play on our phones.” A small smile tugs at my lips, and I look his way. “Make babies apparently.”
Chase laughs at that, his head falling back slightly, and he shifts to face me better. “Apparently.”
My smile holds, and I nod. “He was a good guy. Kind and gentle. Never pushed or picked fights. Yeah.” I pause. “He was good.”