Chapter 16 April/Mason—Beige flags and naughty nightwear
April
This was the night from hell. She’d rather have given up her weekly allowance than put herself through this.
Mason was falling apart. The farting/sharting accusation in particular had seemed to enrage him.
Fucking child, she thought. If he wasn’t loaded, she would have walked.
Hang in there, she thought. This payday is greater than Shane’s.
It’ll all be worth it. And at least Mason’s face was pretty, not scarred.
She could fuck him and look him in the face without shuddering.
That twit Anna was still fluttering around Mason.
He’d better not still be fucking her. She may be willing to cheat with someone, but she definitely wasn’t willing to be cheated on by someone.
She was far too classy and intelligent. She wasn’t a doormat like Anna.
She would have seen the signs, she reasoned with herself.
She was honorable. She and Shane were no longer active because she had ethics.
Brax was talking about his parents’ upcoming anniversary. He was such a boring man. He wasn’t even a green flag. He was barely a beige flag.
“Dad has bought her flowers every week since they were married, so Mom wants a flower theme,” he said stupidly.
“That is so sweet,” Anna cooed. Who was this woman? Heidi from the mountain? Lugging food up the mountain for her grandmother while flashing her dimples at the goats? Pathetic. Who gives a flying fuck about stupid Brax’s stupid parents' stupid anniversary?
“Gifts for no reason is such a love language,” the twit mused.
“And Mase is such a darling. The other night he gave me some naughty nightwear! It was so romantic,” she said dreamily.
What the fuck? Naughty nightwear? Who says that? What made it naughty? Maybe it was fluffy long-sleeved pajamas with a swear word on it. Probably said “darn” on it, which would qualify as an obscenity to this small-town, GED-level dimwit.
“That’s cute,” Rosa offered, clapping Mason on the back. “Hope you got some little buddy!”
“Of course he did,” Anna winked at her stupid friend.
Bitchface Rosa continued. “Hey little buddy, next time get her something that fits. Not something made for a Cindy doll. That little red thing was completely the wrong size.”
April plastered a smile on her face, fuming on the inside. That must have been the red teddy she’d insisted he should keep to “think of her.” A fucking Cindy doll? She wasn’t Barbie’s little sister.
Hold. The. Fucking. Phone. He got some? April glared at Mason, who looked at his feet. He swung his arms around clumsily like a toddler who was still learning to use his body. This man is a fool, she thought. He was now playing with his phone, avoiding all eye contact.
Her phone buzzed.
Tina: I didn’t. I swear I didn’t get any.
Was this shit-for-brains really texting her in front of their respective partners? God, he really was honest when he said he’d never cheated before. The ick was becoming stronger. This was no powerful man. This was a prepubescent dumbass trying to hide porn from his mom.
April: Put your fucking phone away.
“Who are you sexting?” Brax asked her.
Was this whole night a competition between these idiots to see who could make the night as awkward as possible? If so, they were all winning. It would definitely be a tie, although that bitch Rosa seemed to be a nose ahead. This could be a photo finish.
“No one. My cousin Tina,” she countered coldly.
Several painful hours and many trays of bar snacks later, April and Shane were on their way home. Brax stayed at the bar, taking a liking to that insipid Mel from Anna’s group.
“That was fucking awful,” April complained. “Don’t ask me to come to your drinks again.”
“You had a little work friend there. That little skinny guy. You could have spoken to him more, or Anna,” he spat back.
“Oh, so you remember her name but not his?” April challenged.
“Definitely. I definitely remember her name,” he said without tone.
“You’re fucking disgusting. That’s like cheating on me right in front of my face,” she sneered.
“Better than behind your back,” he retorted. “I’m not a fucking cheat. In any form.”
April crossed her arms and sat in silence. Was that a dig? Did he know?
“Sorry, I’m just so tired,” she said, trying to inject softness into her voice. Things were uncertain with Mason right now. She couldn’t lose Shane yet.
“Of course you are,” he ground out. “You’re stretched across so much right now.”
Did that have a double meaning? This was getting too risky. She needed out. She needed Mason to commit. Shane seemed to know something and if he did, she’d be out on her ass with nothing. Time to jump ship.
Shane turned up the radio and they sat in silence all the way home.
Mason
“That was weird. That woman April was so rude,” Anna said.
“She can be like that. Catty and jealous. That’s why I stuck up for you,” Mason offered desperately. It was all about to hit the fan. He had to get through this. He’d never go to drinks again. He’d cut April off and threaten her with any means necessary to keep her quiet.
He loved Anna. He was a fool. A skinny, short, flatulent, sharting fool. Only an idiot of the highest degree would have had the beautiful life he had and thrown it all away for four months of fun with a demanding woman like April.
“Even you sticking up for me was weird. I can handle myself Mason. Is anything going on with her?” Anna asked.
“Like what?” he wheezed. It was happening.
His blood froze. She was asking him point blank.
He had to lie. Or he could confess and beg and grovel for the rest of his pathetic life.
He crossed his fingers that even if Anna found out, the Hulk would remain in the dark.
He liked his head very much attached to his neck.
“Like a rivalry, a la you and Lilah,” Anna replied.
Phew.
“Nah, she’s just inappropriate. She’s always like that. And you are hotter. She’s almost got a man’s body. Thighs like tree trunks.”
Anna shrugged and began humming along to the radio.
That was odd given Anna was against any form of body shaming.
Usually if he made a comment like that about a woman, she’d call him out on it and give him a lecture about the beauty of the human body.
Some crap about expressing yourself with your body being a beautiful thing or something.
No doubt a dance philosophy. He’d take the win though, without even questioning it.
Bullet dodged.