Now or Never

by Jamie Canosa

  When their shift ended and he watched Mason help Em into his truck, Jay had to forcibly remind himself that this was what he wanted, what he’d asked from her. Didn’t make it hurt any less, though.

  ***

  “Come on. Come on.” The truck turned over after almost a solid minute’s worth of coaxing and Jay breathed a sigh of relief. One more day accomplished.

  He alternated warming his frozen hands between his thighs on the drive home. The temperatures were still dropping below freezing at night, but he couldn’t waste the extra gas it would take to run the heater. He was almost on E as it was and he still had the rest of the weekend to get through. The frostbite would be a lot worse if he had to walk to and from work.

  As soon as he turned into the drive, Jay shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the house, looking forward to nothing more than a hot shower and a warm bed. The front step creaked under his boot. It was coming loose, and Jay added it to the mental list of shit he needed to take care of. Someday. Along with repairing the truck, and doing something about that ever-growing hole in the ceiling, and changing the locks, and fixing the leak in the bathroom sink, and about a million other things. Home ownership was a major pain in the ass. Most days, it felt like an endless losing battle. But then again, so did everything else in his life, so why should this be any different?

  Collecting the mail, he sorted through it as he kicked off his shoes and coat, weeding out the junk. Unfortunately, there wasn’t as much as usual, which meant all the more bills to deal with.

  It was, undeniably, one of those days. The kind where the last thing you want to do is waste your money on a lotto ticket. Where absolutely nothing goes the way you want it to. Which was why, when the doorbell rang just as Jay was about to get into that shower he’d been craving, he wasn’t the least bit surprised by who he found standing on the porch.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Must we go over this every time?” All of the cruel amusement flickered from his eyes, leaving behind a cold rage. “I want my money and I want it now, Julian. Or my next stop will be Em. Don’t think I didn’t mean what I said. If you don’t pay, she will.”

  His father turned to go and all of the day’s frustration turned to despair. “No. Wait. I have some money.”

  A hundred bucks made up his grocery budget for the month, but what choice did he have?

  The asshole had the nerve to flip through the small wad of bills with a look of disgust. “That’s it?”

  “It’s all I have.”

  Jay knew better than to let his guard down around his father. Ever. But he hadn’t let it down, he’d repositioned it. All around Em like some kind of fortress, leaving himself vulnerable to the right hook that slammed into his left side just below the ribs. Air rushed from his lungs as he doubled over. It took several gasping breaths to reinflate them and bring the pain threshold back under control. He’d suffered much worse, but the shock of that first blow always seemed to be the hardest to overcome.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that, Julian.” Shoving the cash in his pocket, his father stormed out of the house, leaving Jay cradling his ribs and feeling like he’d just made a deal with the devil.

  Chapter Twenty

  Em

  She hadn’t seen Jay in almost a week. He’d done everything in his power to make it that way, and it stung. He was the one who dumped her, after all. What right did he have hiding? But, truthfully, she wasn’t angry about it. She was sad, and confused. But, above all, Em was lonely. Missing Jay was like missing a body part. Something essential, like an arm or a leg. Functioning without him was difficult and awkward.

  When he finally showed up at Bart’s on Friday night, the urge to be near him was so strong she almost forgot why she couldn’t. Her feet had her headed in his direction as soon as he walked through the door before her brain caught up and veered her toward a table where Mason was covering busboy duties. It may not have been her best idea. They were ‘friends’ now. She could have at least said hi. But hanging out with Mason helped distract her from the sharp ache that seeing Jay again had brought on. Plus, he was her ride.

  It turned out Ashlyn didn’t have the market cornered on persistence. She seemed to share it with Mason. And when the two of them teamed up, Em found herself in over her head.

  “I come bearing pizza. If you don’t let me in, Ash will kick you out.” Mason stood on the front step in jeans and a khaki colored coat that brought out the highlights in his dark, wind-mussed hair perfectly, holding a large cardboard box. If there were a fast food calendar, he’d definitely be on the cover. There was no denying he was good looking.

  “It’s true!” Ashlyn’s voice carried from down the hall. “Pizza is the magic word around here. Let the man in.”

  Em stepped back to let him pass and Mason made himself right at home in Ash’s living room, setting the box on the coffee table.

  “How’s the phone working out for ya?”

  “Took a few days to figure it out, but I think I’ve got it now.”

  “All that newfangled technology.” He winked at her with a laugh and pulled a book from an inside pocket of his coat. “I brought you something else.”

  “What’s this?” Em glanced at the glossy cover.

  “It’s a GED prep guide.”

  “Mason, I can’t—”

  “You can. You and Jay can do it together.”

  Em stared back at him thoroughly confused. He was doing this for her and Jay?

  “Look, I know I don’t know much about you. Where you came from, or how the hell you ended up here.” Em’s gut clenched with fear that he was about to ask some unanswerable questions. He didn’t. “But I do know you’re a smart girl. I just don’t want to see you stuck at Bart’s for the rest of your life. You can do better than that, Em.”

  Dammit, Ash was right. Mason was a good guy. And he was right. She’d always been a good student. She could do better than Bart’s, and waiting tables for the rest of her life didn’t sound all that appealing when she really thought about it.

  “Um . . . I . . . I don’t know about Jay, but I’d like to give it a try. Do you think maybe . . . you could help me study? If you’re not too busy.” The last bit all came out in a rush of breath and Em wanted to smack herself. She sounded like a twelve-year-old trying to score her first date.

  “Where’s the food?” Ashlyn plopped on the couch opposite them. She froze mid-reach as her gaze drifted back and forth between Em and Mason, and a sly grin spread across her face. “I’ll take mine to go. Thanks.” She snatched a slice from the box before scrambling back out of the room.

  Way to be subtle, Ash. Em rolled her eyes at her friends retreating back and sank deeper into the couch cushions.

  Mason chuckled, fishing out two more slices and passing one to Em. “Friday night?”

  “Huh?”

  “Studying. How’s Friday night? We work the same afternoon shift. We can go to the library for a bit afterward and then maybe hit up the movies to unwind?”

  This was seriously happening. Em took a deep breath and responded with a smile, “Sure. It’s a date.”

  Mason grinned back at her, and Em wondered for the billionth time if this was a terrible idea.

  ***

  Mason was the whole package. Not just the looks, but the brains to go with them. Em had always been above average in terms of schoolwork, but trying to study for a high school degree after having been away from it for so long was difficult. Mason was an amazing help, patiently explaining formulas and problems for hours until the library announced it was closing time.

  “You hungry?”

  Em’s stomach answered for her at the mere mention of food, growling loudly enough to embarrass her in the quiet space.

  Mason’s chest bounced with silent laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go grab some food before the movie.”

  “As long as it’s not pizza.” She didn’t think she could handle another Friday night at
the madhouse.

  “No. Not pizza. I’ve got an idea. Come on.”

  When they pulled up outside a quaint little eatery with a French name she couldn’t pronounce, Em instantly regretted vetoing pizza. The low lighting and soft music made all of it seem just a little too romantic. Too . . . date like. But that’s what this was. She’d called it a date herself.

  The library had been easy enough to write off as nothing more than a study date. She’d even been able to overlook the way he sat beside her instead of across the table, and leaned into her every time he explained anything. There was something about Mason, something so warm and friendly that she could tolerate his nearness better than most, but each time he brushed against her arm, she’d had to fight the urge to run screaming for the door.

  Even the movies she could handle. Friends went to the movies together all the time. But this . . . There was no denying this. This was a date date. Of the romantic variety. A first for Em. And suddenly her heart was tap dancing against her ribs. Dark spots floated in her vision, and she had to stop and, as Mason spoke with the maître d', steady herself against the wall to keep her legs from giving out entirely. This was ridiculous. It was just dinner, for crying out loud. Normal people did not have panic attacks over dinner. She could do this, and she was going to do it without looking like a fool, dammit.

  Pasting on a smile, she allowed Mason to usher her to a table, but was unable to stop herself from shrugging away from the hand he placed on the small of her back. So much for normal. Mason didn’t seem to notice, though. He pulled out her chair and Em thought for a moment that she’d fallen into some kind of fairytale. Only it was someone else’s fairytale because her Prince Charming was nowhere to be found.

  The thought struck hard and without mercy, causing her plastic smile to falter.

  “Everything all right? You look a little . . . tense.”

  “No. I’m fine. Guess my brain is fried from all that studying.”

  “Did you want to go home after this? We could save the movie for another night if you’re tired.”

  Yes. Yes, yes, yes! “No. I want to go.”

  Normal, dammit, normal. Dinner and a movie was normal, and that is what she wanted. She’d never get there if she kept hiding.

  “Great. Any idea what you want to see?”

  Mason looked up what was showing on his cell while they waited for the food to arrive, and then read synopsis after synopsis to Em of movies she’d never heard of before as they ate, even going as far as to watch a few trailers, to the distaste of everyone around them A few looked interesting, but she wanted to make sure Mason enjoyed it, as well. After all, he was the one paying for it. So, in the end, she left the decision up to him. He chose the one she’d been most excited about. A romantic comedy. Not what she would have guessed as Mason’s first choice, and she wondered if he’d chosen it for her.

  The meal was absolutely delicious and she could only assume cost a small fortune because the moment the waiter arrived with the check, Mason scooped it up, not even allowing her a glance.

  “I could—”

  “Not a chance, Em.” He flagged over a waiter and she couldn’t really argue because, in all honesty, she doubted she could even cover her half.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. We better get going if we want popcorn before the movie.” His black credit card was returned and he slipped it into his wallet.

  “I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

  Mason’s smooth laughter floated over her. “It’s the movies, Em. You gotta have popcorn at the movies.”

  His fingers brushed against the skin of her neck as he helped her with her coat and Em didn’t withdraw. No inappropriate reaction. No . . . fear. He’d taken a potentially terrifying experience for her and managed to make it casual. Even fun. Em smiled to herself, realizing that she was. She was having fun.

  ***

  Em couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a movie theater. When they walked in to find two different couples already going at it in the back row before the lights even went down, Em panicked. Was that what he was expecting?

  She took her seat, anxiously rubbing her hands together in her lap as Mason somehow managed to pack in the popcorn. How he could possibly eat any more was beyond her. She felt like she might explode just watching him. Their entrees had been enormous, but she’d forced herself to clear the plate, all too aware of the fact that you can never be sure when and what your next meal might be.

  The theater darkened and Em held her breath, prepared for the inevitable freak out she was bound to humiliate herself with, but Mason kept his eyes glued to the screen and his hands on the popcorn bucket. By halfway through the movie, when he hadn’t made a single move to kiss—or even touch—her, Em began to relax and really enjoy the show. He’d lean over to make the occasional joke or comment, but that was it. She could deal with that.

  When the lights came back up and Mason stood to gather their jackets, her racing heart eased up a bit. She’d done it. She’d survived her first real date. Still, she was anxious to get back to Ash’s. All that anxiety was exhausting and she felt like she could sleep for a week.

  Her eyes began drifting shut on the ride home and when they pulled into the drive, Em had to drag herself out of the truck. Mason walked her to the front porch, where she stood awkwardly trying to figure out what came next. She couldn’t just invite him in. It wasn’t her house. And yet, he seemed to be waiting for something.

  “I . . . um . . . had fun.” Em winced at her stupidity.

  “Me, too.” Mason grinned, seemingly amused by her floundering.

  It wasn’t going to get any better by standing there opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. Best to just get it over with. “Well, thanks. Good night, Mason.”

  “Good night, Em.”

  She was about to reach for the door when his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Mason reeled her in as his head bent to meet hers and she stiffened, fight or flight instincts kicking into high gear. His eyes flicked from her lips to meet hers and he froze.

  “You’re not ready for this.”

  “No. I’m not. I’m sorry, Mason.” Her voice came out breathless, mainly because she’d forgotten how to breathe.

  He released her, taking a step back and Em inhaled deeply.

  “No apology needed. We’ll just try again next time.” Em hesitated to agree, unsure she’d ever be ready to kiss anyone other than Jay. “Or am I being too presumptuous? Do you not want to see me again?”

  “No, I do. I just—”

  “Good because I do, too. There’s this band playing downtown next Sunday that I think you and Ash would enjoy. You should both come. It’s my birthday. We can celebrate.”

  “Oh, okay. Sounds like fun. I’ll let her know.” Em back toward the door, feeling guilty over how badly she wanted to put it between them.

  “And Em?” She paused, glancing back at Mason’s sincere expression. “We can take as long as you need. I’m not in any rush.”

  ***

  Saturday morning brought with it an unseasonal warm spell. After collecting the mail, she sprawled out on the ancient wooden swing on the porch, that was more than likely to give her splinters, to sort through it. All of her mail—not that she really got mail—still went to Jay’s address, so she was really only sorting out the junk for Ash. That’s why she was surprised enough to sit up and take notice of the envelope addressed to her.

  The only other time she’d received something here it had turned out to be a very useful gift from Mason, so she didn’t know why she was so hesitant to open this one. Perhaps it was the way her name was handwritten in sharp, harsh letters that almost look like a threat in themselves. Or the fact that the handwriting wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t Mason’s, and it certainly wasn’t Jay’s. Who else knew where she was?

  Carefully peeling back the flap, she let the contents fall into her lap. Paper. Plain white paper. Nothing scary there. Em fli
pped it open and gasped.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Jay

  “Hey, Jay? Can you give me a hand?” Ashlyn stood across the bar looking half miffed, half helpless.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “The stock room was not designed with someone of my . . . stature in mind.” Turning on her heel, Jay watched Ashlyn saunter off toward the swinging door next to the kitchen that led to the small room where all of the supplies were kept. He doubted the space was designed with more than a broom closet in mind.

  Ducking under the bar, he followed after her, vaguely recounting the last time he’d followed some girl off to help her out. The door bounced off the inner wall as he pushed his way inside to find her staring up at a shelf, hands propped on her hips.

  “Tell me,” she huffed without bothering to turn around, “how in the hell am I supposed to reach those straws when some idiot piled them four boxes high? The shelf is already too high to begin with. There’s no way I can—”

  “Let me.” Jay nudged in front of her, cutting her off before she could really get started. The girl was a great friend to Em. But she had a bit of a fiery side that could get carried away if someone didn’t put a damper on it.