Page 73 of Size King
We dress in silence. The wheels in his head are turning fast.
“I’m sorry if it seems like an intervention slash booty call, but I have to head back to L.A.,” I say. “I’ve got a shoot early in the morning, so I need my beauty sleep.”
“I really am glad you came,” says Mason. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I’m not mad or sad, really. I want to be there for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he says reassuringly. “I want to be there for you any way I can. I can’t do much, but I want to help you and the baby.”
I am so happy to hear him say that, as well as extremely relieved. I am thrilled to know I won’t be alone during this insane ordeal, and he might turn into a real partner through it all. I still can’t tell what he wants with me, or even if there is a future, but I’m hopeful that things might work out with Mason.
“Let me write down my number for you,” he says once fully dressed.
We exchange numbers, and I pick up my purse. I am already eager to text him on my long drive back to Los Angeles.
“I’m going to hide this pregnancy for as long as I can,” I say. “I just got my job at K-Plus, and I’m not about to lose it when I know I can still kill it. This is another advantage of being a thicker girl. I’ll be able to hide it in plain sight.”
“Well, good luck to you,” he says as he escorts me to my car. “Don’t be afraid to call me. I’ll be here for you, I promise.”
As I drive back down the mountains toward civilization, I can’t help but believe him. I smile, knowing that Mason would not be like most guys that I know.
28
Mason
Nearly an hour before Jillian makes it back to L.A. after giving me the flabbergasting news, she starts to text me. It starts innocently enough, with her casually talking about her surroundings, to me saying she shouldn’t text and drive. Then, it evolves right into text flirting before she’s even made it back to her place.
Our conversations never fully evolve into “sexting,” but they often come close. I find myself looking at my phone for long periods of time in a day, waiting for her next text to appear. I spend more time with my phone than doing something constructive or working harder to push Dunn Deliveries.
I need our scandalous text sessions because I still haven’t fully processed the fact that I am going to be a dad. I’ve accepted that Jillian is pregnant. I’ve also accepted that I was the one that got her pregnant. Yet, I still can’t fully imagine being a parent to someone. I know that I have eight months to process that fact, and then I’ll have another few months to firmly decide what I want. I am still unclear about what she is going to do with the baby after she gives birth.
We text each other for two days straight, and we stay in our comfortable territory of flirty, light, fun dialogue. I am hoping to have some sort of emotional epiphany by then, but I’m still not sure what I feel about the whole situation.
I do want a family one day, but I hardly know Jillian. I can’t even picture what a family with her might look like since I can’t even picture what kind of person she actually is. She does intrigue me. She is fun to talk to, and she isamazingin bed. I’m content with waiting it out with Jillian and seeing where things can take us. I know I want to at least try. If not for me, or her, for our kid. I know nothing about this unborn child, but I know it deserved some effort from its father.
After the second day of text flirting, I decide that I’m not going to keep it up unless I have the chance to see her again. Our talks are only making me want to be around her more, and I want to see if we can maintain our spark in person as well as we can through text messaging. Plus, I want to get to know her better as a person and to get a sense of the full woman and learn about the bearer of my child.
I decide to ask her out to dinner. I feel weird doing it so soon after we’ve seen each other, and considering I live so far away from her and any restaurant we will want to eat at. So, I decide to make a trip out to L.A. under totally different circumstances. Then she won’t believe I’m in L.A. purely to see her.
Luke bought a new car the day before and wouldn’t tell me what kind it is. He wants me to see it in person first, likely so that he can see my reaction when I realize what kind it is. He says I should head back to L.A. soon so he can show me the car, so I jump at the invitation and get on the road. I don’t mention Jillian beforehand.
I get to Luke’s place quickly, and I can see it from the street: a brand new Lamborghini. It’s gorgeous, and it nearly blinds me from the California sun hitting the shiny hood. Luke comes running out of the house like an excited kid, jumping and fawning over his impressive vehicle. Clearly, my boy is still living off his trust fund and loving it.
Even though the Lamborghini is spectacular and quite something to see up close, I think it feels just like every other car when I sit down inside it with Luke. I like cars and respect them, but I’m not too keen on them like Luke or my other friends are. I mostly only care about how good they are at getting me to where I want to go. It does handle well, and the engine purrs like an exotic animal while always catching the eye of someone nearby.
We cruise all over L.A. in the Lamborghini, chilling and enjoying the ride. Throughout the whole drive, I wonder if I should mention the baby to Luke. I want to spill the beans, mostly because he is my closest friend and I want to hear his insight. I am predicting what his insight might sound like, though, so I choose to hold my tongue, deciding it isn’t a good idea.
Once the joyride is complete, Luke spends time admiring the car in his driveway, and I decide to traipse down to the beach and give Jillian a call. She picks up almost right away.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jillian,” I answer. “It’s Mason. How are you?”
“I’m good, Mason. How are you?”
“Good, good,” I answer. “I am—well, I’ll just tell you—I’m in town right now hanging out with Luke. I’m walking toward the ocean as we speak.”
“Oh, really?” she asks. “In L.A.? You’re hanging out with Luke? What’re you two doing?”