The Best of Me

by Karlee Michelle

  “Ready. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Famished.” Mason licks his lips, biting them as he backs away and pulls out my chair before sitting in his across the table. It’s a small table, so our legs could touch if we wanted them to. Picking up the kebab, I slide the first piece of chicken off with my teeth, and he does the same. We don’t say a word, our body language and eyes are doing all the talking.

  After a few bites, I realize it’s definitely not food I’m hungry for, and I push the plate in front of me. We haven’t gone further than some intense kissing and touching here and there—I wanted to make sure I was ready. We’ve been seeing each other officially for almost two months now, and this is what I’ve been waiting for—this feeling of confident want, no doubt or shame in sight.

  Mason slides his plate forward a minute or two later, and I get up to grab it, bending over in front of him. His eyes are glued to my body, and I can feel everywhere they touch. As I walk back to the kitchen, I put the dishes in the sink, and I feel Mason behind me again. My eyes close as his fingers drag up my arms, igniting goosebumps the entire trail up.

  “Are you nervous?” His touch reaches the top of my shoulder, and my head bobs to the side to give him access as he moves my hair off my neck.

  “Yes. No,” I reply. I’m nervous as hell, but I’ve never wanted something more. The tip of his nose softly drags up my jaw before his tongue paints a trail along my neck. When his hand inches up the front of my body to lightly grip my chin, he turns my head towards him and kisses me as if he owns me. I turn my body towards him, needing to be closer. Grabbing behind my thighs, he lifts me on the counter, and I wrap my legs around him, my dress rising to the tops of my thighs.

  Mason pulls his mouth from mine. “What do you want, Emery? What do you need?”

  He knows, but he wants to hear me say it. “You. I need you.”

  Mason's lips tease mine. “Are you sure?” His deep timber rattles down my spine, and I shiver.

  I look him in the eyes. “Positive.”

  Mason slowly smiles, picking me up and walking me to his room before he sets me on my feet next to his bed, and whispers in my ear, “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

  I nod my okay, and he kisses me once more before he stares at me the entire time he undoes each button down the front of my dress, opening it up and sliding it down my arms and into a pile on the floor. With my body decorated in only a black lace set, his nose flares as his eyes take me in.

  “You’re fucking perfect.” His hands cup my face again as he devours my mouth, and I’m just as hungry as my hands hurry to undo his belt and pants, pushing them down his legs as he shucks them off. Picking me up, Mason sets me in the middle of the bed before laying over me, peppering kisses along my jaw and down my chest. His hands slide under my back, and I arch to give him access so he can unclip my bra. Slowly sliding the straps down my arms, I’m bare to him, and his eyes devour every inch of my skin. He cups my jaw as he runs his thumb across my lips before dragging it down my neck and across my breast. My breathing is erratic with the anticipation of his next touch. He leans down, taking me in his mouth, and the warmth of his tongue forces a gasp from me. I grip the sheets, and when I open my eyes to look at him, he’s already looking at me with a devilish smirk as he moves down my body.

  He traces along the top of my black lace panties before barely tucking his fingers underneath, teasing my skin as he gets closer to the spot I’m aching for him in.

  “Oh, God.” I close my eyes again, waiting for his next move.

  “Nah. It’s just me, love.” Mason slowly slides the thong down my legs, and my heart picks up double-time. The moment they are free from my legs, his hands pin my thighs down. I look at him just in time to see him lick his lips, and I just about burst on the spot. I’m writhing in anticipation, and he’s enjoying every second of it, making sure to take his time.

  “Please.” The whisper falls from my mouth, and that’s all he needed.

  Mason hovers back over me, his face only inches from mine, taunting me with kisses that never quite meet. “Asking like such a good girl.” He bites my lip lightly and pops it from between his teeth as he works his way back down my body. I don’t have to wait long because his mouth covers me, and a thousand sensations propel through my body at once. I’m too dizzy with lust to think anything other than this man is an expert with his tongue. Every time Mason brings me to the edge, he slows down, and it drives me absolutely mad. From his chuckle, I know he can sense my frustration. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

  I hear the tear of a condom and pop my eyes open. Watching him roll it down his length makes my mouth water.

  Finally.

  “You didn’t think I was going to let you come without feeling you squeeze around me, did you, love?”

  “Oh God.” The rasp of his voice and the things he’s saying are sending me into overdrive.

  “Did you?” If this man expects a coherent answer from me, he’s out of his damn mind.

  “What?” I don’t even remember the question.

  Mason chuckles. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” My breathy answer comes out immediately, and he slowly slides into me. It’s been so long, and I have to take a second to adjust to him.

  He growls in my ear, “Fuck. You okay, love?”

  Hell yes. Nodding, I wrap my arms around him, pulling him as close to me as I can.

  “You fit me perfectly, Emery,” Mason rasps as he slowly slides in and out, setting a pace and hitting every spot every time My nails grasp at his back, begging for more. He lifts himself, his hands on either side of my head, and looks down, watching us move together. The sight of his muscles contracting under his tattoos is almost enough to send me over the edge, but not quite.

  “I know what you need, but I’m not ready to give it to you yet.” That smirk is back.

  “What? Why? We can do this more than once.” The audacity.

  “Count on it.” He smirks playfully.

  I didn’t know what to expect with Mason in bed, but holy hell am I glad it’s this because, Mason?

  King of the fucking castle.

  Mason leans back down, dragging kisses from my jaw down my neck, taking his time before he finally lifts again to bring his hand between us to give me exactly what I need.

  “Mason!” I gasp, pulling him back to me, gripping him tightly as I ride out every wave as his pace quickens.

  “That’s my girl.” Mason groans as he stills inside me before falling over me, both of us trying to catch our breath.

  After a few minutes, he rolls to the side, leaning on his elbow as he moves the hair from my forehead like he always does with a content smile. “Hi.”

  I smile back softly. “Hi.”

  Mason takes a deep breath, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. “I can’t believe you’re right here with me.”

  “Me too. But it feels right. Everything about us feels like we fit each other just right.”

  “I know.” He smiles then bites his lip, wanting to say something, but holds back.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  His smile slowly drops, looking me in the eyes as he shakes his head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Why would you think that?” My brows furrow, and I cup his cheek with my hand, running along his scruff.

  “I’m a shitty person, Emery. When I tell you—”

  “Shh.” I put my finger over his lips. “Not right now. We’ll get to the ugly stuff later.” I push him back and move over him between kisses. “I just want the fun stuff right now.”

  He chuckles. “You haven’t seen fun yet, baby.” Mason’s fingers dig into my ribs, and I yell in laughter.

  Fun stuff now is a much better idea.

  onism—the frustration of being stuck in just one body,

  that inhabits only one place at a time.

  Emery

  May Twenty-first

  One Year after the accident

  It’s been w
eeks since he wrote. Not a letter in sight, and my anxiety is out of hand. The what-ifs are bolting through my head at full steam. I have no way to track him. I’ve written him two more letters and nothing. It’s as if he never existed, and today—especially today—when I try to swallow the fact it’s been one year since Derek died, I feel like I’m losing another friend all over again.

  I’m short-tempered and stressed today. And honestly? I’m really fucking angry. And sad.

  Mason: Hi, love. I’ll be over soon with breakfast.

  Me: I’m not very good company right now, Mason.

  Mason: I know, and I wouldn’t expect you to be. But you aren’t going through this alone.

  I sigh at my phone. When Derek died, I was certain I’d never find another person for me ever again. Six months later, Mason Baylor walked into my life and became my best friend. A few months after that, he became everything and more. I’m so angry Derek is gone, but I’m so damn thankful for Mason. The fact that he lets me openly talk about Derek and my love for him and how I miss him makes me fall for him that much more. He’s provided a safe place for me when it comes to that, and I don’t know how he does it because he’s the most important person to provide that for me, and he does it effortlessly.

  Me: Doors unlocked.

  I’m in Derek’s sweatshirt and sweats on the couch, flipping through channels, and my phone rings. I don’t look at it, I don’t want to talk. Then it rings with a text.

  Drew: How ya doing, sunshine?

  Me: It’s the anniversary of my husband’s death. How do you think?

  Drew: Okay. I’ll see you soon.

  Me: Mason is coming over. It’s fine.

  Drew: All the better. It’s either me or Mom and Dad.

  Me: Ugggghhhhh.

  Drew: You’re welcome. Love you.

  Ten minutes later, Mason walks into the living room with a couple of bags. He sets them on the counter and comes over to me, kissing me on the forehead. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey.”

  Mason moves the hair out of my face. “I brought your favorite sandwiches.”

  “Thanks.” I give him a sad smile. I don’t have the heart to be rude.

  “Of course.” He stands to get the food ready and brings it over. I sit up and eat my breakfast—it’s tasteless, but I eat most of it anyways. Right as we finish up, Drew walks in.

  “Hello, little rays of sunshine.”

  I tightly smile and pat the couch on the other side of me.

  “Hey, Drew,” Mason greets her.

  “Sup, bro,” Drew says as she plops down next to me, pulling my legs up over her as my head snuggles onto Mason’s lap. His fingers brush through my hair, the soft tickle more comforting than I was expecting.

  “Okay, I’ve been staring at your food for thirty minutes. I’m eating it,” Drew says as she leans forward to grab my plate off the coffee table. “Oh, Mom and Dad are coming over and bringing dinner.”

  “Okay.” Now that Mason and Drew are here, the company is nice, and I haven’t seen my parents—I miss them.

  “That was easier than I was expecting.” I feel Mason shake with a chuckle at Drew as she hops up, dusting the crumbs off her hands and shirt.

  “Alright, lovebirds. Up. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I tell her as I start a new episode of Catching Monsters on Netflix.

  “Oh, but you are. Because we are celebrating Derek in the way he would want you to celebrate—and not by watching fishing shows all day on TV.” Her mischievous smile makes me suspicious. I sneak a look at Mason, and he has the same smile.

  I sit up, looking back and forth between the two. “What are you guys up to?”

  “We’re going actual fishin’, my southern gal. We got a charter boat at two p.m. It’s gonna be a beautiful sunny eighty-degree day. Go change, we’re leaving in twenty!”

  “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m fishing. Derek couldn’t even get me fishing.”

  “If he asked you today, what would you say?” She smiles softly.

  “That was low.” I look over to Mason. “Did you know about this?”

  Drew laughs before he can answer. “Ha! He booked it. Get your ass up.”

  “Unreal. If I’m doing this, we’re stopping at Mezzo for coffee on the way there.” I won’t let them know, but deep down, I’m kind of excited. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna change.”

  Mason smiles and nods as I head to the bedroom, changing into an old cut-off tee and some shorts. I pack a small bag with a change of clothes and throw on a light jacket. After twisting my hair up into a bun, I go into my closet to take off my jewelry. I don’t want to risk losing it at all. On Derek’s side of the closet, on his dresser, is a picture of him and his friend out fishing years ago. His long black hair stuck out of his hat, and his favorite sunglasses covered his eyes, but the smile on his face says it all.

  I smile, dragging my finger down the picture and looking around the closet.

  It’s time, baby.

  “I know.” My fingers drag along his clothes still hanging in the closet. I’ve been dreading this—taking them down. But it’s time. “I’m going fishing today. Don’t laugh at me too hard up there.”

  Oh, I’ll be laughing the whole time. Go get em’, tiger. Make me proud.

  “I miss you so much.”

  I miss you, too.

  “I’ll always love you.”

  I know. I’ll always love you, too.

  I take a deep breath and walk out of my room, ready to go. After we stop and grab coffee, it takes about an hour to get to the coast. Mason’s hand sits on top of my thigh, and mine on top of his as he drives. He provides a comfort I could never take for granted in this chaotic time in my life. We park at the pier and meet our guide, Hank. He’s a burly man in what I guess would be his fifties, with a long beard to his chest, but his smile makes you feel welcome.

  “You must be Derek’s wife!” His deep, choppy voice makes me smile.

  “You knew him?”

  “Yeah, girl. This is where Derek and his group came frequently. Such a good man. I’m sorry for your loss. We were all heartbroken when we heard the news.”

  I smile softly. “Thank you. Thanks for doing this today, too.”

  “I couldn’t think of doing anything better for him.”

  We get ready on the boat while Hank does all his checks. The sun shines, and I take a moment to let it sink in, feeling the light breeze sweep across my cheeks with the water swaying around us. It’s the perfect day. Hank hops on, and we take off, boating for about an hour before we stop—at least I’m getting some sun. He gets us all set up and shows Drew and me what to expect and do if we catch one. It’s surprisingly fun as the four of us joke around, listen to classic rock, and cast our lines as Hank tells stories of Derek. A lot of them I didn’t know and hearing about him and his antics from someone else brings a smile to my face. The void in my chest throbs with his absence. Just as he starts another, my line pulls, and I drop my sandwich. “Oh my God! I think I have something!” Once I pick up my pole, the jolt from the fish surprises me, and I almost drop it. “Oh, dear Lord, I’m gonna need help! I forgot everything you told me!”

  Hank and Mason uncontrollably laugh as Hank comes and helps me. He walks me through what to do and helps me pull when I need to so I can hook the fish and not lose it.

  “Atta girl. He’s on! Come on now.” He guides me as he tells me when to pull and reel, and my muscles are exhausted.

  “Why is this fish so damn strong, Jesus!” Mason and Drew cry with laughter as I struggle, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. It’s exhilarating, no wonder Derek loved this so much.

  “Almost there, Emery girl. Don’t stop now. Come on!”

  “I’m trying!” I grunt through my laughs—I still can’t believe I’m doing this.

  “Whoo! Would you look at that! Got yourself a two, shit maybe a three-foot bluefish. Come on, reel ‘er up.”

  “Help! He’s too heavy!
”

  “No, you’re laughing too hard. You got him to the top, you finish this, girl.” His smile is bright.

  What feels like hours later, but it’s only been minutes, I’m learning how to unhook and hold an eighteen-pound bluefish in my hands.

  Mason takes a picture of me. “I can’t believe I’m holding this fish, hurry up! Ahhh!” I squeal in part excitement, part terror.

  “Look at you, Emery Jean! Derek is probably in tears right now,” Drew jokes.

  “Har har,” I say, and as soon as we're done, I throw the fish back in.

  “What are you doing, girl?” Hank is horrified.

  “I’m not keeping it! I’m sending it home!”

  “Jesus. He was right,” Hank says as he shakes his head in amusement. “Derek always told me he wanted you out here with him, but he’d have to be prepared to go home empty-handed cause you’d throw everything back in the ocean.”

  A grin takes over my face. My husband knew me well. I peek at Mason, and he wears a proud smile. I mouth the words “thank you,” and he nods back at me.

  We stayed out on the ocean for a while. Mason ended up catching a tuna, and Drew lost every fish that bit her hook. On the way back to shore, Mason’s arm around me keeps me warm as the wind whips through our hair. He kisses my head, lingering there for a while, and I snuggle deeper into him while I look out at the ocean. I could spend forever out here, and I’m regretting not tagging along all those times with Derek, even just for the ride.

  “Do you think we could do this more often?” I ask Mason.

  “Absolutely.” He winks. Mason looks at the ocean again, and I study him closely. His sharp jawline outlines his handsome face. Losing Derek was an eye-opener when it comes to realizing how fragile life is. All it takes is one second for your life to change—they’re here, and then suddenly, they’re not. After celebrating Derek and everything he was—loving, spontaneous, kind, it hits me how easily and deeply I feel for Mason. He was the rock I needed most before it became more.