Page 92 of Size King

“You weren’t a disaster,” I say reassuringly. “It happens.”

“Yes, I was! I got mad because of that one stupid phone call you had with Luke that morning!”

“So, thatiswhat it was.”

“Yeah, I got mad because you says I am just a friend,” she explains. “You were going out to talk on the phone, and I heard you say it more than once.”

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” I say desperately. “I was downplaying it to Luke—he’s one of my boys—that’s just how we talk—”

“Mason,” she interjects, stopping me. “I’m not mad. I want to apologize for my despicable behavior that day. Iwayoverreacted. I’m confused, sick all the time, and have to push a baby out of my vagina in seven months—I’m just overwhelmed. I’m also very hormonal. In fact, I bet it was my hormones that made me freak out on you like I did.”

“Ididwonder about that.”

“I’m sorry, Mason,” she says. “Can you forgive me?”

“I can forgive you right now,” I say. “Watch: I forgive you. It’s okay, and thank you for apologizing.”

“Well, thank you for forgiving me.”

We stand there in silence for a few awkward moments, unsure of where to go from there.

“So,” I say. “Are we—we’re cool, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jillian replies with a smile. “Also, you know, I’m sorry for ignoring you like that for almost a month.”

“We’re both guilty of that,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t try talking to you more after that day. Sorry it took me this long to get here.”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Even though I have just arrived in Los Angeles, I’m already thinking about what it will be like to take us far away from there.

“Since you have some time off, maybe you’d want to come hang with me at my place?” I propose. “We could catch up, go for a hike, watch movies. Whatever you want. Anything that doesn’t involve booze.”

“Anythingthat doesn’t involve booze?” she asks with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her. “Ladies’ choice.”

“Okay!” she agrees. “Let’s go to your house. Could I get some clothes and toiletries first?”

* * *

The ride upthe interstate through the mountains is quiet. We hardly speak or look at our phones. We have her phone synced up to the music player in the car and let her playlist act as the soundtrack to our journey—not the physical journey we are on at that particular moment but on the journey we embarked on from the moment I took her to Luke’s beach house.

We are quiet because we still aren’t sure where we stand with each other. I’m happy to have her with me, and she’s content sitting in the passenger seat of my car, but with such a gap between seeing one another, we aren’t assuming anything. We aren’t forward about anything, sexual or otherwise. We can be anything we want: good, platonic friends that have a kid together, friends that have terrific sex whenever they see each other, or maybe we can be nothing at all. I’m hoping for more.

I’m happy to see her walking through my front door again. She leaves her shoes and purse by the door and sits on the couch, clearly waiting for me to decide on which course we are going to take.

I sit down next to her, taking her hand and kissing it. She grins and blushes.

“What are we doing first, milady?” I ask.

She leans in and gives me a hug. We embrace and hold each other for several seconds, melting in each other’s arms.

“I missed you,” she says quietly.

I let her go, moving her hair from her eyes so that I can look into them while I proclaim my feelings.

“Jillian, I think I’m falling in love with you.”