But something is different. I’m different.
Maybe it’s seeing the look on Mason’s face when I tell him he’s not alone in his feelings. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s become more than just a man I’m interested in. He’s a man I want to be with all the time, doing everything with, including breakfast dates and dinners at my sister’s house. Camping and late night drives through the city.
Or maybe it’s just him. No one else could’ve gotten me here. I’m sure of it.
Mason went from being a guy I wanted to fuck, to a man I wanted to know, to the only person I care to be around.
The only person . . .
I sure as hell didn’t see this coming, but I want it, and I’m not nervous.
I’m ready.
As I’m tying my navy cinch dress and securing the loose bow at my hip, my phone rings from on top of my dresser. I run my fingers through my loose curls before hitting the speaker phone button.
“Hey. I’m just finishing up getting ready. Mason should be here any minute.”
Picking up my gloss, I apply a thin coat of the shimmery peach shade and press my lips together as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
“Change of plans. I think Jake has chicken pox,” Juls says.
“What?” I look down at the phone. “Are you sure? How did he get it?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. Playground, I guess. Ian was giving him a bath and saw the blisters on his stomach. My poor guy.”
Poor Jake is right.
“Well, shit. That sucks.” I toss the tube of gloss into my makeup case and carry the phone over to the bed. I plop down on the mattress. “You know Izzy will probably get it now.”
“I know. I’m almost hoping she does, that way I can just get them both out of the way at the same time. God, does that make me a horrible mother? Wishing a miserable infection on my child? Ian thinks I’m crazy.”
Juls, a horrible mother? Please. She kills it. She’s that mom other mom’s hate because she’s so fucking good at life.
She’s organized. Her kids are perfectly behaved and always look like they hopped out of a Children’s Place catalog. She still looks like a pin-up girl after two babies, and she rocks heels every day.
Every day. Even at the playground.
I stare at my feet. “Makes sense to me. I wish mom would’ve done that with us, that way I could still come over with Mason, assuming he’s had chicken pox before.” I feel a smile lifting my mouth. “I wonder if they call that something different in Australia. Like koala pox or spots down under.”
“That second one sounds like an STD.”
We both laugh. I pull my knees up and brace my heels on the wooden frame.
“I am bummed though. I was really looking forward to tonight. All of us hanging out.” I pick at the hem of my dress.
How long does chicken pox last? A week? Several? Is there a period where it isn’t contagious?
I bring up Google and do a search while keeping Juls on the line.
“Aw, me too. You know how excited I was. And the kids. Especially since you were bringing Mason. I really wanted to see you two together.” She pauses as I skim the page on WebMD. “Can I . . . okay, I want to ask you something, but you can’t get all Brooke on me.”
I huff. “What does that mean?”
All Brooke . . .
All awesome and sexy as hell? Because that’s unavoidable.
“You know exactly what it means. You can’t bite my head off or hang up on me because I’m bringing up mushy shit you don’t usually like to talk about. It’s not nice. I want your word that you’ll at least give me an honest response.”
I exit out of the search on my phone and stare at the screen.
I have a feeling I know where this conversation is going. Mason. Juls wants details, which isn’t surprising. I really haven’t given her any. In fact, the last time we spoke about this I’m pretty sure I bit her head off and hung up.
I definitely hung up.
I sink back onto the bed, resting my phone beside my ear. “I promise.”
“Really?” Juls whispers in complete disbelief. I smile and stare at the ceiling.
“Yes. Hurry up before I change my mind.”
She clears her throat. “Wow. Okay. Well . . .” a soft, shuffling noise comes through the phone.
“Oh, my God, Juls. Do you have notes?”
Little Miss Wedding Planner. I can totally see her having a list of topic points for this discussion.
“What?” she asks, sounding startled. “No, no I’m just reading a magazine. Glamour or something.”
Thud.
A notepad getting tossed, perhaps?
“Right,” I laugh.
“Anyway, I was just wondering how serious this is with you and him. I mean, obviously you’re willing to admit you’re dating, since you planned on bringing him with you tonight.”
“Mm mmm.”
“And that in itself is a miracle,” she chuckles softly. “Headline news. But, I didn’t know if this is just something you are doing for fun, or if it’s more than that. If you even know what it is.”
“I love him.”
She gasps. My stomach does a strange little flip.