“Never. Just imagining what else you might let me eat pie off of.”
I roll my eyes so hard I see stars, but still, my skin burns. “I don’t share pie.”
He drops his teasing for a second, voice going warm and low.
“Wish I was there, just to sit with you… Even if you don’t share pie.”
“Wish you were here too,” I say quietly.
He nods. “I’ve got one more shift, then I’m down at the lake for New Year’s. We’ve got trucks there all day. Bonfires, fireworks, fire safety patrol.”
“You think Maplewood’s gonna spontaneously combust?”
“I think if I’m not working, I’ll be thinking about not seeing you.”
“Fireboy.”
“Don’t call me that unless you’re going to be naked while saying it.”
“You’re so horny.”
“I’m in love with you.”
“That’s not even remotely fair.”
“Not trying to be fair, just making sure you know.”
He says it like it’s simple and it doesn’t have to change anything. Except, of course, it already has.
I didn’t realize how small my world had become until I let someone else into it. Until someone like Mason walked through the cracks and decided to stay.
Now there’s plans to be made.
Nothing official, nothing overwhelming—just soft, stupid plans.
A visit to Maplewood to stay with him in January. A night with Hazel curled between us on the couch. A fancy dinner somewhere with good steak and better wine.
The kind of plans that make your life feel bigger, not smaller.
I haven’t had plans like that in a while, but I know I want them to include him.
Especially now.
Especially knowing what New Year’s Eve used to mean for him—the night he’d planned to propose, only to walk in and find the woman he thought loved him fucking someone else.
I remember how gently he’d looked at me when I didn’t want to decorate the tree, how he made me laugh, made me feel safe.
Made a new memory to sit beside the ache.
And I want to do that for him.
December 30th
The photo is of Mason in bed, shirtless and sheets low on his hips. His hand’s not in frame, but I can see the tension in his biceps to understand what he's doing. The message comes seconds later.
Mason:Nearly five days since I’ve seen you. Starting to lose my mind.
Me:You need a visual, babe?
