“A grumpy asshole would have walked away.”
“Ahhh. In that case, I fucked up.” He grimaces comically and I can’t control my laughter. He brings it out of me.
“Mason, you can't pretend anymore. I’ve seen the real you.”
“Have you?” His expression cools, trying to be that Mason again, but there’s a flicker of doubt behind his eyes. “The truth is…you might be the only person I’ve ever been real with.” His face scrunches and he shakes his head, as if purging his mind of unwanted thoughts, before smiling softly. “Anyway, do you want to get a drink?” He points to the bar across the street. “I’m dying in this thing.” He flaps the collar of his Santa suit, adorably blowing out a breath.
“I don’t blame you. It must be at least ninety degrees out here. Why are you still wearing it?”
“Sentimental reasons.” He shrugs and I frown until he bounces his eyebrows and his meaning sinks in.
“I think Becca and I would be great friends. I understand her completely now. You just needed a good fff—”
“Shhh. Language.” He shushes me like I shushed him earlier, and his happiness makes me giddy. It’s infectious. Childlike. Magic.
If I needed proof that Christmas could be special again, it’s standing in front of me. Mason and Jack lost both parents. My mom is still very much alive and I’m sulking because, for some messed-up reason, I placed all my magic in her.
“Hey, where did you go?” Mason lifts my chin, his magnetic gaze pleading with me to open up. To trust him. And I do. But I don’t want to bring down his mood.
“I was trying to decide on a drink.” I blink a few times, hoping it will snap me out of my Mason-filled daze.
“Gin and tonic?”
“What?”
“It’s a drink.”
“I know what it is. Why would you suggest that specifically?” It’s my go-to when I’m out at a bar. But Mason doesn’t know that. Jack does. “A gin and tonic would be great.”
Mason’s face lights up with a proud grin. “What a guess!” He cheers and once again, I can’t help but laugh. “Come on. There’s a high-top table out the front. I’ll get the drinks.”
As we cross the street, I take in the rustic-looking bar with its tea light candles and fresh flowers lining the tables and smile at how cute it is.
I sit down on the bar stool farthest away from the flowers, but thankfully, Mason moves them from our table to the empty one across the path and drops his coat in its place, squeezing my shoulder as he walks away.You definitely can’t put Santa’s suit on the ground.
He winks as he disappears inside and I smile after him. I’m sure he’d hate me for thinking this, but the playful side of him is more like Jack than he realizes. He just doesn’t show it often enough, preferring to shield himself from the world, wearing his attitude as armor. Kind of like me.
Only my personality is a choice. A way to step out of the darkness my mom shadowed me in.
Mason’s persona comes from his circumstances, from being forced to take on a responsibility he didn’t sign up for. Getting nothing in return.
He’s pushed everything aside to take care of Jack—his career, ambition, love—and Jack doesn’t even notice.
My happiness fades as my heart aches for Mason. I wish I knew how to help. He’s happy now, though something tells me it’s fleeting. That like Cinderella, when the clock strikes midnight, reality kicks in and he’s back to his old self.
Back to the man he doesn’t want to be.
A flash of one of Jack’s letters flits to my mind, and my stomach knots.
Gotta go. My brother’s pissed off about something I did and if I don’t talk to him about it, it’ll become a whole big thing.
Sometimes I wish I was an only child.
Jack has no idea what Mason does for him, and I don’t know whether to be angry or sad about it.
The warm breeze blows hair in my face as I stare off into the distance, and I’m lost in my head until a familiar face breaks through the mess.
Jack’s staring at me from across the street, a soft smile playing at his lips, and you’d think I’d conjured him.
