Mason
His Tahoe was easy to spot. There’s only one decent hotel this far north, so I took a guess this is where he’d be. I was right. I already walked the perimeter of his SUV—no car seats or girly shit lying on the seat. Not that it means he’s alone for sure, but I have a pretty good idea he made this trip by himself if he’s so concerned about keeping Avery and Max a secret.
I got here at about five in the morning, just as the sun was starting to show over the peaks. Cave Creek is eerily quiet this time of day—most of the drunks from the bars have long passed out and are off the road; the rich assholes up the hill are not yet out for their jogs. I used to like to sit out on Ray’s porch at this time. Things were always…still.
This would have been easier if Adam’s parents still lived in town. I would have just driven over there and drug his pathetic self out into the street the moment I arrived. Instead, I’ve been sitting here in the hotel parking lot for the last hour, spitting sunflower seeds out my window. I hate sunflower seeds—you have to work too damn hard just to get to anything worth eating. And they don’t even taste very good. I chuck the rest of the bag out the window, deciding I’ll be long gone and don’t really care if Adam looks like a littering asshole.
My adrenaline kicks in fast when I see his door open; I force myself to breathe in slowly to keep my ass planted here in my seat. He’s got a small roller-bag trailing behind him. He’s leaving town—I knew he would. He took care of what he needed, got that off his conscience, and he’ll let some lawyer deal with the rest.
I’ve flipped on how to play this about a dozen times, but the closer he comes, the more worried I am that I’m going to miss my chance, so I push open the door of the Mazda and just see what comes out first.
“Hey! Adam, right? Adam Price?” I can see a smidge of recognition cast over him as I step closer.
“Do I know you?” he says, standing at the back of his SUV, and fishing in his pocket for his keys. His preppy sunglasses are dangling from his shirt collar, and I immediately regret not being able to knock them off his face.
“Yeah, Mason…Street. We went to…” he gets it now, I don’t even have to finish.
“Right, right. Street! Yeah, you’re doing that whole rock star thing. I heard some song of yours, I think?” he says. Fucking poser. He hasn’t heard any of my shit because there’s nothing to hear unless you come to a show. He thinks I’m on the goddamned radio because someone from high school probably posted something about me on Facebook once. I just let him believe it, whatever…maybe it will give me an edge.
“Yeah, well…so, you moving back to town?” I know the answer to this question, but I just want to watch him lie. I don’t know why, but somehow I feel like it will justify being allowed to punch him in the face.
“Ahhh nah. I was just visiting a friend,” he says, almost like he believes it. “I’m heading out now, back to Florida. Getting married…you?”
He’s got the hatch open, and part of me wants to bring it down on his head, but I don’t. I have to be careful, choose my moment. “Just in the Creek for a few weeks, you know…in between gigs, touring.”
He closes the hatch again, and he’s tossing his keys in his hands, so disinterested in anything other than himself.
“So you’re getting married, then. Huh…that’s great!” I fake, my insides about to boil over.
“Yep. She’s a single mom, kind of a sad story. But I love her kids, you know?” Everything about what he says makes me want to hit him harder, and I don’t know what one thing is the worst. I’m so mad, I actually start to laugh, and pretty soon, I’m laughing so hard I have to bend forward from my stomach cramping.
“What’s funny?” he asks. Dude’s so fucking clueless about what’s coming at him next.
“Ohhhh, nothin’ man. It’s just…you. You are such a goddamned fucking phony!” I speak through my laughter, and I’m pretty sure I sound like a crazy man—exactly what I’m going for. The expression on Adam’s face melts from someone having a great day—to a total nightmare—in about a tenth of a second, and that’s my cue.
I’ve got him pushed against the back of his SUV in seconds. His eyes are wide as hell, looking from side-to-side for someone to help, and the fact that he’s sweating bullets right now, the moisture literally beading up on his forehead in front of my eyes, has me so fucking happy.
“Wanna know what’s funny, Adam? I know a single mom, too. And her story? Oooooph—it’s really sad. Strange thing, though, Adam. You know what makes her story so absolutely fucked up?” he shakes his head quickly, and I swear I think I smell pee dripping down his leg. “You, Adam. You make her story sad. You’re an embarrassing man—if I can even call you that. I’m sure you remember, but you have a kid. A great kid, not that you’d know, because you haven’t seen him since you found out that sometimes being a parent’s fucking hard work!”
“Who sent you?” he shouts, his paranoia kicking in now.
“Nobody sent me Adam. Like I said, I’m just in town…in between gigs. Taking care of some shit. But I know Ray. And I know Avery. And I’ve…been around…heard a few things. And I don’t like what I’m hearing, Adam,” I grit through my teeth, my forearm still pressed into his chest, all of my weight pinning him in place.
“So we’re going to make a slight change in plans. Number one, you are going to get on that plane and go back to Florida and never show your face here again. Two, you are going to write Avery a letter, and in that letter, you are going to tell her about what a small human being and giant piece of shit you are. You’re going to grovel and apologize and tell her you’re going to tell your fiancé about Max. And you’re going to do that, too. You’re going to do that because real men, Adam? We don’t lie. We fuck up…we fuck up a lot. But we don’t lie.”
He’s nodding at me, and I ease up a tiny hair when I realize he’s gasping to breathe. Then I continue. “You’re going to write another letter. This one is going to be for Max. But you’re going to send it to Avery, and she gets to decide when…and even if your son ever gets to read it.”
“And finally, you’re going to keep depositing money into Avery’s account. Not just because she deserves it—she deserves ten times the amount you give her—but because Max deserves to get something out of you, too. You’re Max’s dad, and everyone knows it, but you don’t get to be his father. So you just go do the right thing, tell everyone the truth, and then stay the hell in Florida.”
I give him one good shove as I step away and walk back around to the driver’s side of my car, but before I get there, I stop. “And Adam?” I turn to look at his face, and I know he’s not moving from that spot for a good hour. “You better do what I said, because I’m a crazy motherfucker, and I’ll find you. Have a good flight.”
When I smile and slip on my own sunglasses, just to mock him, I feel satisfied. I didn’t hit him. I wanted to, but once I started laying out all his dirty laundry? Pointing out every failure? I knew I didn’t need to. Sometimes, holding up a mirror to someone’s face is a lot more effective than kicking their teeth in. Though, just one kick might have been nice.
It seemed like an easy enough thing, when the idea popped in my head in the middle of the night, lying there looking at Avery, so peaceful and small and fragile. I’d hunt down Adam, put him in his place, and make sure he never hurt her again. She’s a spitfire, yes—that tiny body can muster quite a punch when it needs to. But underneath it all, she’s so damned breakable. I know she hates when I call her Birdie, but looking at her, asleep on my arm, her tiny lips barely apart, whispering breath…she’s like a hummingbird. Like a beautiful, precious hummingbird, and all I want to do is make sure she gets to the next day, and then the next, and then…
I’m falling for her. And it’s making my head all fucked up because I’m going to rehearse with the band tonight, and when I came back to the Creek I had only one mission—get this music shit straightened out, get back on the road with the boys, and cut a new record deal. But then Avery happened. And now, I have this other mission, and it sort of hopscotched right in front of the music one the second my lips hit hers. But I don’t know…I’m not ready to give up on the other things either. And Avery is…hard.
It’s late morning, and I know she woke up alone. I hate that. I bet she has a million and half horrible thoughts running through her head right now about me, but I had to slip out of there without waking her. She would have stopped me from talking to Adam. And it needed to be done. If not for her, for me—my anger over what he did was consuming me.
The smell of bacon hits my nose the second I open the back kitchen door, and the crackling sounds like distant thunder. Ray’s back is to me; he’s standing at the stove, frying up a batch, grease bubbling over the edges of the pan with every snap and pop.
“Making a BLT. You want one?” he says, not even turning around.
“Can you make mine a BL, hold the T?” I say, grabbing a beer from the fridge and popping the top off to drop it into the trash.
“You got it. Coming right up,” he says, tossing two more pieces of bread in the toaster. I keep pulling out my phone, trying to think of a way I can ask Ray for Avery’s number, some reason I would need it, but my heart literally races to the speed of a Ducati every time I try to speak, so I just put it away.
“Here, bacon’s still hot, so careful,” Ray says, sliding a plate my direction, and sitting down with his own across from me. “I’m heading over to Dusty’s after this. You wanna ride?”
“Nah, that’s okay. I’m headin’ over to Ben’s for a while this afternoon. Rehearsing for Friday,” I say, talking while I chew.
Ray just nods, taking a second giant bite out of his sandwich. He keeps looking at me, then back at the bacon and bread in his hand. I can tell he’s got something on his mind, but I never know if it’s going to be a lecture about the guys or just some interesting thing he heard on the news. Ray’s really the only father figure I’ve ever known, and frankly, sometimes the man makes me nervous.
I can’t take the stress of his off and on stare, so I cram the last quarter of my sandwich in my mouth, and take my plate over to the sink so I can run upstairs, grab my shit and head to Ben’s.
“Hey, Mace…wanna tell me what Avery was doing leaving your room at about six this morning?”
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
I spare a look over my shoulder, and Ray’s still nibbling at his food, taking his time. I thought I was out of the woods when Avery was gone when I got back. I knew if Ray saw how we were—together—he’d know something was up. I’m still not looking forward to that—that first interaction after you’ve been incredibly intimate with someone, especially when you have feelings for her, and there’s a ton of shit that’s still unsaid. But I’d sprint over to Avery’s college right now, pull her out of class, and have a long sit-down talk about our feelings and what happened last night if it would get me out of this moment right here in the kitchen with her dad. This moment…feels like it might kill me.
“What’s a’matter there, Mason? Cat got your tongue?” he asks, his temper simmering just under the surface. I say one word out of place, I’m pretty sure he’s going to slide that chair back into my shin and turn around to knock out my teeth.
“Ray…it’s not…it’s not,” I’m about to say what you think. But I don’t know what Ray thinks. Hell, I don’t know what I think! I just know that what happened with Avery last night wasn’t about me getting a piece. And it’s not just a one-time thing. And it’s all I can think about.
“It was a long night Ray, and she needed someone…to talk to. We talked,” I am such a goddamned liar.
Ray slides his chair out and walks over to the trashcan where he leisurely slides the crumbs from his plate. He is eerily calm, and I swear I feel like I’m in some horror movie where the dude is going to jump at me with a knife at any second. I’m careful to keep a good distance between us as he walks closer to rinse his dish.
He hasn’t responded to me, not even with as much as a nod or a smile. Nothing. I’d guess that he didn’t hear me, but I know he did. We’re alone, in a quiet kitchen. Part of me thinks he likes watching me squirm like this. Fine—let him make me squirm. Whatever it takes to keep him from knocking me on my ass.
“When was your last long-term relationship, Mason?” he says, still not looking me in the eyes. This is awful, and with every word he says, the more miserable this conversation becomes. But it’s inevitable; at least, it is if I ever want to kiss Avery again. And I do. I’ve never wanted anything more. But this answer I’m about to give isn’t going to help.
“I don’t know…high school, I guess,” I say, knowing that the longest I was with any one girl in high school was about a month—and that was only because she didn’t want to break up before we won homecoming king and queen.
“High school,” he nods to himself. He chuckles lightly under his breath, shutting his eyes and shaking his head while he dries his hands on the towel. “High school, Mason. You were a kid. And I gotta tell you something—high school doesn’t count.”
I don’t respond, because he’s right.
“Mason, Avery was married. And the guy walked out on her. When she needed a man, he turned out to be a boy,” his eyes are on mine now, and my stomach feels like it’s full of rocks.
“No offense, Ray, but Adam is a douchebag,” I say, feeling like I need to stick up for myself. I may be a fuck up, but I’m not Adam Price. I don’t run from people when they need me. Of course, no one has ever needed me before.
“You’re right, Mason. He is, and you’re nothing like him,” Ray says, and I feel like I can breathe for the moment. I don’t know why that man’s opinion of me matters so much, but it does—and now that Avery’s in my head, too, it feels like it matters more.
“But here’s the thing...I’m not going to live forever. I know, it’s a shocker,” he jokes, rubbing his hands around his giant belly. “But seriously, Mason. There is going to come a day where my baby girl…she’s going to be alone. And what life has put on her plate—well, it’s a heavy load. And she needs a partner, someone to help her carry it. But you can’t drop things on her when times get tough. And you can’t choose something else first, because Avery and Max—they get to be first. They have to be. Because if they’re not Avery will fall apart.”
I know everything he’s saying. It’s the debate doing ten rounds in my head right now. I know Avery needs someone, and I know I’ve only been around a couple of weeks, and everything sputtering in my chest right now is all new and warm and honeymoon shit. But I also know I’ve never wanted to be anywhere more…not even the road. And I’ve never wanted to be someone’s someone. But damn do I want to be her everything.
“I get it, Ray. And I won’t be reckless. I promise,” I say, holding his gaze, which is intimidating the hell out of me, but I suck down that fear and hold it anyway, pushing on. “But just so you know…it’s not like Avery is just some girl to me. Your house…it was always more of a home to me than my own home. And Avery—she was a part of that. I might see her differently now, but I’ve always seen her. She’s always been home.”
Ray bites at his bottom lip, his eyes lowered and cautious. “Mason, I have always thought of you as a son. I hope you know that. And I’m glad that you feel that way about being here. But Avery has always seen you as more. I’m not naïve; I know when my daughter loves someone. You just make sure that if you decide to open that door—to her and Max—that you’re ready for everything on the other side.”
There’s nothing but silence after he speaks, and he doesn’t stick around long enough to hear any more of my thoughts. I know he’s not really interested. And I know that it would probably make Ray rest a lot easier if I put on the brakes, finished out this little stint here at home, and headed back out on the road, without starting something new with his daughter. And maybe my life would be a whole hell of a lot easier, too. But I’m starting to wonder if it would be worth it? Any of it? Without…her?