14. Mason #3
“Can I say something, maybe a little too forward?”
Well, this oughta be good. “Sure.”
“You’re very sweet for a guy that’s both rich and not bad to look at. I don’t think that trifecta is pulled off very often.”
My steps falter. “H-hold up.”
Callie looks over her shoulder when she notices I’ve stopped.
“Not bad to look at.”
She shakes her head, but I still catch the slight smile that comes with it.
“I’ll have you know I’m a regular top contender for Heart City’s social pages’ hottest eligible bachelor.”
“Yeah, I know,” she mutters and pushes ahead. “Heart City’s heartthrob, I think they’ve called you.”
I jog to catch up with her, a grin taking over my face. “You been looking me up, Trouble?”
We pass my car, but I keep following her, desperately waiting for an answer.
“I may have… seen a few things.” There’s enough light out here to see the way her cheeks blush.
“Well, don’t get shy on me now.”
“I follow the company’s social pages, and you and Beth are frequently tagged there.”
“The company page doesn’t share personal things.”
“Your looks are not exactly a secret.”
“Admit it, you’ve been looking me up.”
“You wish.” I do actually. She stops in front of an old silver sedan. “Besides, you’re the one who started following me.”
“After you liked a picture of me with my shirt off,” I tease.
She lifts Navie from her pram and buckles her into the car seat in the back. “I was looking at the photos of Beth, and you just happened to be there too.”
“Nah, you just wanted to check out the tattoo on my chest.”
“You don’t have a tattoo on your chest.”
“For someone who doesn’t look me up, you sure are confident in how my body looks.”
I grin when she gasps. “Fine. Tell me you didn’t check out my profile.”
I can’t. Not without lying to her, but I’m also her boss. I shouldn’t be checking her out. I shouldn’t be flirting like this.
She takes my silence as admission, then pushes some hidden button on the pram, making it collapse in on itself. Before she can pick it up from the ground, I reach down for it, pausing when our faces come so close I can perfectly trace the cluster of freckles under her eye.
“I can’t lie to you. It would ruin my sweet, rich, and ‘not bad to look at’ reputation.” She purses her lips, fighting a bubble of laughter I’d give anything to hear, but instead, I lift the pram and walk round to the end of her car. She opens the boot so I can put it away.
It feels like we’re both stalling when she wanders over to the driver’s seat, fiddling with the keys in her hand.
“I’ll see you on Monday then,” she says.
I nod, opening the door for her. “Monday.”
At least a full minute passes after she takes off before I make my way back to my car.
She might be willing to acknowledge there’s more to me than meets the eye, but I doubt I’d ever be the kinda guy she’d want more with.
She wants the white picket fence, lemonade on the front porch, sunrises in bed.
That’s never the guy women see when they look at me.
Could it be? Can I find a woman who lets me be that guy?
My eyes drift down the street where she disappeared when the incessant buzzing of my phone pulls me from my musings.
GAGE:
Mason… please don’t tell me you saw some random woman feeding her child and you thought it looked hot cos a boob was involved.
GAGE:
Mase…
GAGE:
Your silence is not reassuring. Would you fucking answer me!
I shake my head as I respond.
ME:
Relax!! It was just a question. You sound very irritable. Have you not been able to reconvene with your love making yet?
GAGE:
I will hurt you.
ME:
That sounds uncalled for. Is this a good time to point out you still haven’t answered my first question?
GAGE:
*middle-finger-emoji*
ME:
Nevermind, I can probably guess anyway. You’re obsessed with your wife and anything she does. I’m gonna assume, yes.
GAGE:
I’m going to regret this, but WHY are you asking?
ME:
Just want to know if I’m the weird one
GAGE:
You’re definitely the weird one.
GAGE:
Also… yes
ME:
Have you tried it?
GAGE:
Yep. I regret this.
ME:
It’s a real kink!
ME:
Is it good?
ME:
Does Izzy like it? Some women are sensitive in a good way, but it can be painful if they’re new to breastfeeding.
ME:
…Gage?
Hmmm. None of my messages turn over to read. Either my brother has blocked me, or he’s choosing to ignore me. I’ll just have to continue my own research on the matter.
I pull what’s left of my cookie from my back pocket before sitting in my car. As I open the door, my eyes catch on the scene before me. The moon reflecting on the dark ocean, the market stalls lined along the footpath, and the string lights overhead.
I hold the cookie up, showing off the red and pink logo on the paper bag, and post a story to my profile.
Cookie. Sweet.
Company. Even better.
View… Not bad to look at.
I post it, not even sure she’ll see it.
By the time I drive myself back home, bailing entirely on the VIP party I was meant to attend, take a shower and slide into bed, there’s a new notification waiting for me.
@itscallie liked your story.