“Thanks, Kar. I’ve got to be back on the base by six a.m. It’s going to be a long night.” Malik works at the airforce base on thecoast of Mississippi, which is about a six-hour drive south from Juniper Grove.
I grab Chanel around the waist as Malik pries her hands from around his neck. “I’ll miss you,” she whines. Malik is unbothered by her girlie cry of affection and leans in to kiss her on her forehead before giving me a hug.
“Bye, my love. Bye, Kar. See you both in a couple of weeks.” With that, Malik walks through the double glass doors into the restaurant and disappears into the crowd of people inside.
“Mm, I miss him already.” Chanel slumps against me and I stumble sideways in my heels trying to catch my balance. “I’m going to marry him one day.”
“Yes, you will, Channel,” I say, using her nickname from childhood. It was hard for me to pronounce her name correctly as a little girl, so I called her Channel, and it stuck. “Let’s go home before you pass out on me and I have to carry your butt.”
“I only had three glasses,” she says with a slight slur to her words, but she slings her arm around my shoulders anyway.
“And that’s enough for a woman who doesn’t drink but maybe once a month.” I hold Chanel’s waist as we stagger together across the rooftop and down the stairs. While trying to keep her steady, I accidentally bump into a broad chest. I glance up to apologize, but I’m interrupted by Chanel breaking free of my hold. I murmur an apology and scoot around the man, noting his fancy-looking brown Oxford shoes that have a Gatsby-vibe to them, and catch up with my cousin. We make it through the restaurant, which is now playing “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift, and then we’re out the door headed to my lakeshore blue Chevy Malibu.
“Karoline?” A deep, familiar voice catches my attention as I’m opening the driver side door. Searching for the owner of the voice in the midst of the dark parking lot, I see the silhouette of a broad man, and as he steps into the street light, I notice theGatsby-style shoes. Dragging my eyes up to meet his face, my heart stops. Giving in to the immediate flight response, I throw myself in my car, banging my head against the door frame.
“Karoline! Wait, please!” he shouts, and I glance through my rearview mirror to see the man encroaching my space.
No. He’s not supposed to be here. Why is he not at Ole Miss?
Hurriedly, I crank the car and spin out of the parking spot, rocks flying underneath my tires, and, if God is willing to bless me, hopefully pelting the man jogging towards me in his obnoxiously pretty face.
“Whoa,” Chanel says, clutching the handle above the door.
Once he and Lake View are out of sight, I finally allow myself to breathe. What in the world is Mason Kane doing here, on my turf, during New Year’s Eve?
“Thank you for coming out with me,” Chanel says, though my thoughts are not even in the vicinity of receiving her thanks. I nod with a soft smile as I clench the steering wheel, focusing on the feeling of the leather beneath my fingertips.
Chanel pokes me in the arm.
“What is it?”
She clicks on the light in the car. “Seriously. I know you don’t do parties much, and I know you still miss him, but thanks for trying tonight. You’re going to find someone someday. One day you’ll quit loving him. Or maybe he’ll surprise you and come back for you. He’s changed, you know? Have you seen the interviews where he talks about how he doesn’t drink anymore and stuff?”
I stiffen before twisting my head and locking eyes with Chanel for a brief moment. Her hazel eyes are dazed and crescent-mooned, and her short auburn bob is flopping to the side as she tilts her head. She obviously didn’t see him before I flew out of there on two wheels, so why does she think he’ll be coming back for me? Pressing my lips into a firm line, I say, “I’m fine.”
“You’re not, but okay,” she says before leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. Why do drunk people always speak nonsense?
The drive back to my apartment is only fifteen minutes, but that gives me plenty of unwanted thinking time. Regardless of what I said, I’m most obviously not fine. Chanel is right in her drunken observation, even if I don’t want her to be. It’s not like I’m choosing to emotionally react this way. I want to move on, but it’s impossible when the man who broke me is on billboards, his voice cascades through radio waves, edited fan videos circulate social media on the regular, and the entire female population is obsessed with him.
Not to mention showing up in flesh and bone to personally ruin any semblance of fun I had at the New Year’s party.
This is the second time he’s shown up, taking me off guard. Seeing him in person at my boss’s wedding a couple of weeks ago shook me to my core. Prior to that, I truly was fine.
For the most part.
I mean, it had been three years since I last spoke with Mason Kane (I can't say it’s been three years since I’ve last seen him because there was that one erratic, hair-brained moment a year ago…). I had even gone on a few dates and had my first real kiss, but nothing stuck. See? I’mfine.
But then Mason had the nerve to sing at Hadley and Braxton’s wedding, which I’m still unsure as to how that happened or how the two know him. I didn’t have the guts or willpower to ask Hadley about it at the wedding just in case my sour expression worried her on her special day, and I haven’t seen her the past two weeks since she has been on her honeymoon, leaving the responsibility of managing Southern Grace Boutique and Gift Market in my hands for the time being.
I thought maybe he left after the wedding, going back to Dallas or Nashville or wherever it was he was getting his kicks thesedays. I knew he was in Oxford for New Year’s Eve, but that’s an hour away and is supposed to still be going on. Seeing him by happenstance lately was like a knife to the heart. No, that’s too cliché. It was like stepping in cow patties while playing hide and seek in a field in the dark. It was like having salt poured into your tea rather than sugar. It was like stubbing your pinky toe on the corner of your bedpost in the middle of the night. Seeing Mason Kane was uncomfortable at best and excruciating at worst.
I whip into the small two-story complex, waving at Lucy Spence as she glances over her shoulder while walking up the stairs to her apartment. The glow of the lights illuminates her strawberry blonde hair and pale, freckled face, and the way she sniffles through a saddened smile tells me she’s been crying. I’ll have to text her in the morning to check in. She lives in the apartment directly above me with her twin sister, Lorelei, and also happens to be one of Hadley’s best friends. Since moving into the place a week before Hadley’s wedding, I’ve gotten to know the twins well. Turns out they went to the same college—Juniper Grove University—where I’m going to be starting my last semester next week. They are four years older than me, though, so I started school after they graduated.
Which makes them only a year older than Mason.
Ugh.How long will it be before my brain stops connecting everything back to him? Seeing him tonight, knowing he’s in my town right now…
Well, I think the process of moving on and forgetting about my painful unrequited love will have to start over.
