22. Not Enough #2
My hand tightens around Logan’s as I try to decide what to do.
If I do nothing, we’ll pass them in a few seconds, and they might see us.
It would be weird to turn around and walk the other way, though.
I know for a fact that Logan is far from ready to confront Mason, but if not now, it’ll happen in the future.
It might be better to rip off the Band-Aid.
I keep walking as if nothing’s wrong, and Logan doesn’t notice anything until it’s too late. As we approach, Mason straightens up and spots us, turning to face me.
“Oliver?”
I stop, halting Logan with me. “Hi.”
Mason’s eyes flit between us and linger on Logan, recognition flashing across his face. When he glances down and sees me holding Logan’s hand, his nostrils flare.
“What’s going on?” His voice is calm on the surface, but I hear the undercurrent of anger underneath.
I know what this must look like. Mason didn’t even know Logan was back in town, let alone that we’ve reconnected, and especially not that we’re together.
Eyes narrowing, he turns to Lane. “Is this what you’ve been keeping from me, puppy?”
Lane fidgets with the sleeve of his shirt. “Um, yeah. I promised not to tell you.”
“Is that right?” Mason drawls, his intense gaze piercing through Logan and me.
Despite myself, I start sweating. Faced with my brother’s wrath, I’m not sure what to do. Maybe this was a mistake. I should’ve turned around. Logan isn’t ready to have this conversation, and neither am I.
Slowly, Logan lets go of my hand. “Mason…” His voice is calm, just like my brother’s, but the tone is one you’d use to calm a cornered animal.
Mason shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. “No. No way. Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Logan sighs. “I know what it looks like, but it’s not—”
Mason takes a step forward, hands flexing. Anyone would back off, but Logan’s taller and bigger than him, and besides that, he used to be my brother’s stepdad as well as mine. We were a family, once upon a time.
“You have about thirty seconds to tell me what’s going on,” Mason growls. “After that, I’m beating your ass.”
“No!” I step between them. “Mason, it’s okay.”
“How can this be okay?” He glares between Logan and me. “I’d love to know.”
“We were going to this café down the road,” Logan says. “We can talk there.”
Mason sends Lane a glance, then looks back at me and Logan with a calculating frown.
“A café sounds good,” Lane says.
I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been here. He calms some of my brother’s aggression, and I’m sure Mason wouldn’t want Lane to see him out of control.
Eventually, Mason sighs, and some of the tension in his shoulders dissolves. “Fine. We’ll talk. And you’re going to tell me that this is not what it looks like.” He points between Logan and me, teeth bared.
We start moving toward the café, which is thankfully within eyesight.
Lane slides up to me. “Jeez,” he whispers in my ear, rolling his eyes with a small tilt to his mouth.
God, I’m so glad he’s with me. If he weren’t, I’m honestly not sure what Mason would’ve done. The danger isn’t over yet, though.
The café is small, with a bright-green and wooden interior. We sit in the corner by windows overlooking the river. Logan and I sit next to each other, while Mason sits opposite us, next to Lane.
Mason leans over the table, elbows caging in his coffee. Usually, he’d have his arm around Lane or a hand on his thigh, so he must be beyond furious. Luckily, the café is bursting with people. I hope it’ll keep him from making a scene, but with my brother, you never really know.
I ordered a Coke, Logan a flat white, and Lane a hot chocolate. It strikes me that in a different context, this could’ve been a double date. The thought makes me smile, which is hardly appropriate, so I hide my mouth with my hand.
“Now.” Mason pins Logan with a deadly glare. “Start from the beginning. No skipping.”
Logan clears his throat. “I came back to Portland for a job, and we… found each other.”
I suppose that’s close enough to the truth.
“When?” Mason asks.
“Right after summer,” I reply. It feels like a lot more time has passed, though.
“Okay,” Mason drawls, not sounding convinced. “And when did this start?” He looks pointedly between us, and I know what he’s implying.
“Recently,” Logan coughs out. “It wasn’t planned.”
Mason rolls his eyes. “So why didn’t you just, I don’t know, hang out and do boring father-son things, like you used to?”
“We tried,” Logan says, gaze downcast.
“Not hard enough,” Mason growls.
“It’s not his fault,” I say quickly, putting a hand on Logan’s arm. “I’m the one who wanted this.”
Mason waves a hand. “Well, that’s obvious.”
“Is it?” Logan asks.
“Yep.” Mason sighs and rolls his eyes. “He was always running after you like a lost puppy. When you left us, he was a wreck for years.”
To be fair, that sounds normal for someone who lost their dad, but I know what he means.
Mason worked it out long before I revealed it, and he confronted me about it this summer.
“So you were crushing on our stepdad—good to know.” For a guy who looks like a dumb jock, he’s annoyingly smart and analytical.
He fixes Logan with another ice-cold glare. “You should have rejected him.”
Logan sighs. “I know.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I insisted,” I snap, eyes flitting between my brother and Logan, heart pounding with the need to protect him, to stand up for him and lessen his guilt. “So there. Don’t blame him; if anything, blame me.”
“How could I ever blame you?” Mason growls. “You’re not the one with the power here. You’re nineteen years old.”
“Lane is too,” I grumble. “But you didn’t hesitate with him.”
Mason throws his hands in the air. “Because I’m not twice his age, Oliver! And I’m sure as hell not his dad.”
“Stepdad,” I correct. “And he’s not anymore.”
“What does it fucking matter?” Mason turns to Logan again. “You knew how this would look, and you still did it. For what?”
“I didn’t plan it,” Logan says, voice calm despite everything. “I’m not saying it’s right, but I… I care about him.” His voice shakes on the last part, and I squeeze his arm reassuringly.
“You can care about him without sleeping with him,” Mason says, jaw tight and hands bunching into fists.
“I know,” Logan says. He sounds pained.
“It’s not right. It’s just not.” Mason shakes his head. “You really couldn’t have picked anyone else?”