Me:Idk if you’re actually sick or not. If you are, I pray you get better soon. And if you’re not… thank you.
She responds immediately.
Gen:You’re welcome *winky face*
Karoline
I’m a she-man.
As I look at myself in the floor-length mirror in our fitting rooms, I scowl at the hulkish woman staring back at me… and also the ridiculous heart cut-outs lining the mirror’s edge. We always do way too much for holidays in this store, but this holiday is the worst. It’s not even a real holiday, after all. It’s just a beacon for singles to feel bad about themselves. Like me. Maybe that’s why I’m low-key hating my body right now.
Because no one wants it.
Except maybe Mason…
NO. He’s the one person who can’t have it…
Right?
Someone tell me I’m right, please, because the way he got boyishly excited over filming this commercial with me earlier had me thinking that I could easily slip back into loving him.
Or at least continually consciously admitting to myself that I’ve always loved him…
“Hadley. Do I really have to wear this? I’m not built like Genevieve.” I slide my clammy hands down the skin-tight strappy pink mini dress. Tassels hang off the bottom, swishing and caressing the bottom half of my exposed thighs and tops of my kneecaps. While I’m tall and lean like Genevieve, I definitely have more muscle definition and broader shoulders. I’m not necessarily a “soft” woman. And this Pepto-pink color isatrocious. It’s too Valentine’s Day, and that’s NOT the look I’m going for.
Hadley looks me over in the mirror, a whole head shorter than me in these three-inch baby pink stiletto heels. “I think you look amazing, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Let’s see what else we can…”
Eyeing my jeans and black crop I previously had on, I interrupt Hadley’s tassel-fied train of thought. “Couldn’t I just wear some clothes from our boutique? It would make sense to rep the boutique and the jewelry since the goal is to merge the brands together, right?”
“And this is why you are in charge of marketing.” Hadley laughs. “But let’s find the cutest, country-iest, trendiest thing we carry.”
She slips out of the dressing room while I tug at this monstrosity of a dress. The tassels tangle in my wavy hair as I yank the dress off, and I wish I had kept my hair in its braid. After taking off the heels, I examine my frame, noting how much my body has changed in three years. Without that dress on, I’m quite proud of my body. I’m sharper, more refined, though my hips are more defined in contrast to my waist. It’s amazing how much can change in three years…
Mason.
The thought of him on the other side of this dressing room causes my temperature to rise… but not in a hate-filled way.
I’m standing in my black bra and underwear, with the man I hate to love on the other side of this thick curtain. The man who has, admittedly, seemed to have changed the same way my body has over the past few years. Though he’s still absolutely the natural flirt I know him to be, he’s been nothing but sincere in his apologies to me. And, I think, sincere in his desire for me…
What if…
What if I let him back in? What if I accepted him? Lord knows I wanted to kiss Mason’s face off in the theater last night, but I stopped myself because I’m still uncertain. The fear that he doesn’t truly want me, and instead wants me because he can’t have a different girl, is still clouding my judgment.
But he’s Mason Kane. Girls are constantly throwing themselves at him. I’ve seen the fan-pages created for him…
Mason could have any woman he desired.
But he is actively pursuing me.
He really has changed, hasn’t he?
I think back to that night three years ago. It still stings, but… it’s not as bad as it once was.
Is that because of the time I’ve spent with Mason recently? Is it because he has been respectful of my wishes? Sure, he has flirted relentlessly, but I don’t expect anything less than that. It’s who he is: a sunshiney, happy-go-lucky flirt.
He’s made his intentions clear. He said he wants me, and I…
I think I believe him.
