“Darling!” Mom gasps, sweeping her gaze over the bar before kissing my cheek. I quickly wipe her lipstick from my skin. “This place looks fabulous!”
Dad nods in agreement, clasping a firm hand on my shoulder. “You did good, son.”
My cheeks flush with pride. “Thanks.”
I glance around the bar, at the streamers and balloons, the friends and family moving with easy laughter as they prepare. Every detail hums with the same truth: Mason is loved. Not just by me, but by all of us.
The door bursts open again. “He’s on his way!” Aliyah shouts, her hand laced with Cam’s as they hurry inside. She’s wearing a tight black dress that looks unexplainably witchy, the lace trumpet sleeves falling past her fingertips. “Hide! Mason still thinks he’s meeting me for a quick birthday drink.”
Everyone rushes to hide, crouching behind barstools and ducking under booths. Luke turns off the overhead lights, plunging the room into darkness. It’s so quiet I can hear the mechanical whirl of the ice machine behind the bar.
The doorknob turns. I glance up as Mason’s broad-shouldered silhouette fills the doorframe, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight behind him.
Mason pauses. “What the—”
“Surprise!” a chorus of voices erupts as the lights flash on.
Confetti shoots into the air as poppers explode. Mason jolts, hand flying to his chest, eyes wide with shock.
“What is this?” Mason croaks, his voice surprisingly hoarse. His eyes drift across the crowd of guests before finally falling on me, his lips parted. “Hunter?”
I grin wide. “Happy birthday, sunshine.”
For a moment, Mason just stares at me, like he doesn’t believe I’m real. Then he strides across the room in a rush, grabs my face in both hands, and kisses me hard. A chorus of whistles and catcallserupts from the guests, but I barely register them. My fingers sink into his curls, lips moving with his in a dizzy blur of relief.
When he pulls away, his voice wavers. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Of course I am,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over his jaw.
Mason blinks, like he’s trying to reorient himself, then lets out a shaky laugh. “Thank you for this. All of you.”
Aliyah steps out from behind the bar with a dimpled grin. “Told you he’d be surprised!”
Mason shakes his head, still dazed, before pulling her into a hug. One by one, he moves through the room—clapping Derek on the shoulder, hugging my parents and Landon, laughing with Maddie and Stephen as they hand him a drink. His cheeks are flushed, his smile radiant.
I hang back on a barstool, watching him with admiration blossoming in my chest. This boy who once carried so much weight alone on his shoulders is standing in a room full of people who love him. And damn if it isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Chapter Forty-Three
My boyfriend is braving a literal blizzard to come see me. I stand by the window, staring down at the parking lot like some housewife awaiting her husband’s return from war. Outside, the snow falls heavily, blowing sideways in the bitter wind until the world blurs into a curtain of white. Mason swore his truck could handle it, but my gut still knots at the thought of him out there.
It’s late November, and three long weeks have gone by since we last saw each other. I’ve been buried in TA study sessions and stacks of exams, while Mason’s been grinding through double shifts at the burger joint. I suppose distance really does make the heart grow fonder, because somehow, impossibly, I feel like I love him more every single day.
When the yellow glow of his headlights finally sweeps across the lot, I let out a shaky breath of relief. I dart to the door, heart hammering, and by the time his footsteps echo down the hallway, I’m already pulling it open.
He stands in the hallway, snow dusting his shoulders, his hair wet and curling. His cheeks are flushed raw from the wind, lips pale and chapped. And then he’s in my arms, smelling like frost and gasoline, kissing me with a desperation that steals the warmth right out of me. His mouth is cold, but I don’t care—I kiss him harder, until we’re both breathless.
“Missed you, sunshine,” I whisper against him.
“Missed you more,” Mason murmurs, his voice still trembling from the cold.
I press one last kiss to his frozen lips before tugging him inside, shutting the door behind him. “Sit down. I made you dinner.”
His brows lift in surprise, but he doesn’t argue. He kicks off his boots, peels out of his snow-damp coat, and drops his duffle on the couch. He settles at the dining table while I plate the food.
“Homemade vegetarian burgers and fries,” I announce, sliding the food in front of him. “Don’t worry—it’s not a bean burger. I know you hate beans. It’s quinoa.”
A puzzled expression washes over his face. “What the fuck is… keen-wah?” he says slowly, the word foreign on his tongue.
