Two Thousand Miles

by Jennifer Davis

  Mason was laughing so hard his whole body shook, which only made me madder.

  “Are you going to help me up or not?” I roared.

  “I’m sorry, Kat,” he said, reaching over the side of the boat. He got me up then took me in his arms and lifted me back into the boat. He may have been sorry, but he was still slightly laughing, and I didn’t like it. I wiggled out of his arms and plopped down on a nearby seat, my muddy hands and feet looking like ape appendages. Mason bent down in front of me. I turned my head away from him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. Are you okay?”

  I shrugged, not looking at him. He sat next to me and casually picked up the frog gig and inspected my catch. “At least, you got a good frog out of it.” I shrugged again, still not looking at him.

  “Alright now dammit, pouty time is over,” Mason declared, sounding a little pouty himself. I cracked a smile. “That’s better. Now come here,” he said, holding his hand out for me. I gleefully slapped my muddy hand against his. Mason intertwined our fingers on both hands and then held them up.

  “See, now it looks like I fell in, too.”

  “Have you seen my back?” I spun around to show him the mucky backside of his shirt.

  “That’s an easy fix, Cali girl.”

  Mason spun me around and put his hands under the shirt, “Arms up,” he said, and carefully lifted it off of me. He took out a hose with a sprayer attachment, sat me down, and washed off my feet. Then we took turns cleaning our hands. After rinsing mine, I slung as much water off as I could and then pulled my hands down Mason’s chest, wetting his shirt.

  “Okay, now we’re even,” he said.

  “We’re hardly even, but I’m going to let it go,” I said.

  Mason smiled and ran his wet hands up and down my arms. From shoulder to wrist. My mouth pursed, but I let him get away with it.

  “Better sport about the water than the frog giggin’”, he said. “Does that mean you forgive me for bringing you out here on our supposed first date?”

  “Oh, so are you going to say this isn’t a date?” I gasped.

  “I didn’t ask you to go on a date with me,” he lightly defended.

  “You asked me to go eat with you.”

  “Where was the word date in that sentence? ‘Cause I didn’t hear it,” he stated.

  “Then what was the point of dragging me all over town tonight?”

  “I was tryin’ to be nice,” he said. “Friendly.” The corner of his mouth crept up, forming a crooked smile. I shook my head. “You can say whatever you want, Mason, but I know you didn’t put me on the back of your motorcycle, buy me dinner, and bring me out here at 11:30 at night because you want to be friends.”

  Mason smiled, the look on his face proving he wasn’t going to give up the ruse.

  “Okay, maybe you were just being friendly,” I conceded.

  “I’m a friendly kind of guy,” Mason said, his arms open wide.

  “Alright, friend,” I smirked. “We should probably pack up this pitiful catch and go.”

  “Alright,” he agreed, his tongue in his cheek.

  I followed Mason up the stone path to his truck, wishing I had something to cover up with. I’d left his muddy T-shirt on the boat and was only wearing a bikini. I didn’t have a bombshell type body or anything, but I felt it was better than average, and knowing it was barely covered suddenly made me uncomfortable. I stood with my arms wrapped around my waist.

  Mason let the truck’s tailgate down and dropped the two bullfrogs into a small cooler then whipped his shirt over his head and held it out for me.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “What are friends for?” he asked, shutting the tailgate. I felt like shooting him a bird, but didn’t. I didn’t want him to think I was bothered by his friend act, or any of the other shit he’d pulled that afternoon. I put the shirt on and got in the truck. I sat as close to the passenger-side door as I could. I wanted to be as far away from Mason as possible, which was why I almost fell out of the truck when he opened my door.

  “I’m goin’ inside to get a shirt,” he said.

  “Inside where?”

  “The house—my grandparents live here. That’s their boat we were just out on.”

  “Okay.”

  “Come with me.”

  “No,” I said, not looking at him.

  “Kat.”

  “What?”

  “Come with me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Come with me,” he said again.

  That Abbott-and-Costello-esque routine could have gone on the rest of the night, so I slid out of the truck and went with him. I pulled away when he tried to hold my hand. He laughed, but I found nothing funny. He was playing games, and it was pissing me off.

  Mason unlocked the pedestrian door next to a garage bay and flipped on the light. The space inside wasn’t at all what I expected.

  “I stay here sometimes,” Mason said. “They finished this room for me when I was nine, I think. Because my parents worked, I stayed here with my grandparents a lot during the summer.”

  The room looked lived in, not like his room at his parent’s house.

  “We’ve upgraded it over the years, but the LSU stuff has been here since the beginning. My grandfather is an alumnus. My dad, too. So, me going there is kind of important to them.”

  “Is that why you’re going?”

  “Partly, I guess.”

  “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

  “LSU,” he grinned.

  Of course.

  “Do you need help picking out a shirt?” I asked. He hadn’t bothered with putting one on yet.

  “I think I can figure it out.”

  “You wanna hurry it up?” I asked, one hand on my hip. “It would be the friendly thing to do.”

  Mason stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Alright,” he said and pulled a purple and gold T-shirt from the dresser.

  “I’ll be outside,” I said, and walked out. Mason followed, turning out the light and locking the door behind him. I stood on the concrete patio, overlooking the backyard with my back to Mason; my arms folded tightly across my chest.

  “Kat,” Mason said, softly. I turned to look at him, hoping he would do or say something sweet. The moonlight sparked his silhouette; his features barely visible to me, but still I saw him, how beautiful he was. My heart fluttered in anticipation.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, disappointed.

  Chapter 12

  Mason and I pulled up at the Broussard’s around 12:30. “Stay put,” he said, when I tried to open my door. He came around and opened it for me. “Thanks, friend,” I said. Mason plucked me off the step rail and sat me down, landing my bare feet in the dirt covered front yard.

  “You stink,” Mason announced. I pushed away from him. “I wonder why,” I smirked.

  “Stinky asshat,” he whispered, his face straight as a razor.

  “Yeah, well, you don’t smell all that awesome either,” I said.

  “But I look amazing and that’s what counts,” he said, raising his eyebrows, fluffing his hair. I laughed, and then I heard Shelby laugh. Her laugh was unmistakable. It was surprisingly hearty for someone so willowy. I looked around to see if she was spying on us from a window or something.

  “They’re around back,” Mason said. I hoped they didn’t include Dixie. I really didn’t feel like dealing with her. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to.

  Dana, Bit, Shelby and Russ were sitting on the couches beneath the covered porch talking to a guy I didn’t recognize.

  “Dugas!” he shouted at Mason and almost laughed. “Garrett, what’s goin’ on, man?” Mason said in that figurative way guys talk to each other. “Not much, man. Good to see ya,” Garrett said, and then they did that one-arm guy hug thing and patted each other on the back.

  Garrett looked at me. “You must be the girl they stuck with my old room,” he said. His voice was deep, and he didn�
�t look like his siblings. He was blond and brown eyed, and I could see why the girls in town were anxious to spend a night with him. Garrett and I shook hands. “I’m Kat,” I said.

  “Good to see ya, Kat. I’m Garrett. Or G—depends who’s talkin’ to me.”

  “Y’all come on over and have a beer with us,” Dana called.

  “Yeah, it’d be cool to catch up,” Garrett told Mason.

  Shelby passed Mason and me a beer, and we sat down with them. I sat next to Dana. Mason sat beside Garrett.

  “So, I showed up at Dixie’s this afternoon just after you two left. She’s still crazy as hell,” Garrett laughed.

  “Yeah, she’s not taking our breakup well,” Mason said.

  “She never does, man. What is it, the fifth or sixth time since I was here last?”

  Wow, and I thought there had only been one breakup.

  Mason’s eyes cut to me. I looked away and turned up my beer.

  “She’s really not happy about you,” Garrett said, nodding at me. “I can see why though. You’ve got her beat in the looks department hands down.”

  Was that supposed to be a compliment? Either way, it was rude. I smirk-smiled at him and took another drink of my beer, suddenly anxious to get the hell out of there.

  “Garrett!” Dana chided.

  “I’m sorry Momma. That wasn’t nice. I’m tired and probably a little drunk. I apologize,” Garrett said to me.

  I could tell by the look on Mason’s face that he wished he hadn’t drank any beer because it meant he’d have to spend the night, which made me wonder where the hell everybody was going to sleep, or more importantly, me. Where was I going to sleep? It seemed Garrett had arrived too late to be scooped up by some girl for the night, so he’d want his old bed. I’d probably wind up on the pullout in Bit and Shelby’s room or on the living room couch. At that point, I didn’t care which; I was ready to call it a night.

  “Did you and Mason have a good time?” Dana leaned in and asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said. Parts of the night had been fun—the parts where he’d cut the bullshit, that is. Little did I know, there would be more to come.

  I stood up. “I’m going to go to bed. It was nice meeting you, Garrett.”

  “You too, Kat. And again, I’m sorry about my big mouth. I’m bunkin’ with my sisters tonight so it won’t put you out.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said, only to be polite because I really didn’t want to be put out.

  “You’re our guest. I’ve slept face down on that pullout plenty. That room was mine before it was theirs.” Garrett reached out to shake my hand. “Fresh start tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I smiled and we shook on it.

  “Night y’all,” I said.

  Bit laughed out loud, pointing at me. “Did you hear that, y’all?”

  Shelby piped in, “We’ve got her in our clutches now. California won’t ever take her back.” I hoped that wasn’t true. I smiled and waved at them before stepping inside.

  Mason followed me.

  “There’s been a lot of back and forth between me and Dixie over the last year,” he said.

  “Year?” I gasped. I never would have guessed that he and Dixie had spent a year together. No wonder she was so pissed about me.

  “It wasn’t how it sounds.”

  “I’m really tired, “I said. “And you don’t owe me any explanations.”

  Mason caught my arm before I could turn away from him. “Kat,” he whispered. “Dixie and me really are done this time,” he said, his blue eyes begging me to believe him. And with that, I knew why he hadn’t kissed me in his garage. Until that moment, Mason hadn’t believed what he’d just said to me. His feelings may not have equaled Dixie’s, but he did still care about her.

  “Thank you for dinner,” I said and kissed his cheek. I felt I’d earned that much. I also figured it would be the only time I’d get to kiss him. “Good night, Mason,” I said and disappeared down the hallway.

  Chapter 13

  When I lay down, my plan was to go to sleep and not think about Mason Dugas at all, but that plan failed miserably.

  I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, deciding to force myself to sleep by counting sheep. At two-hundred-fifty-three, the bedroom door creaked open. Mason came in and laid next to me on Garrett’s twin bed and joined me in staring at the ceiling. His shoulder was barely touching mine, and I know it was a small thing, but when someone fills your thoughts the way Mason filled mine, even the smallest bit of contact could make your heart flutter.

  Mine was pounding.

  “You’re so different than I thought you’d be,” Mason finally said, his voice soft, hushed. “I mean, you showed up on a private plane, wearin’ a dress and shoes that would have probably paid for my gas for a year…” he rambled, as if he was trying to reason with himself. I wondered if he’d meant for me to hear him.

  “I think I just expected you to be…”

  “A shallow bitch,” I offered, turning toward him. Mason curved onto his side and looked at me. “Yeah,” he mumbled, reaching out to play with my hair. “I know I held something back, Kat, but so did you,” Mason said, his eyes boring into mine, vibrantly blue and slightly glossy. “You’re not bein’ honest about why you’re here,” he breathed. He was right; I wasn’t.

  The back of Mason’s hand brushed over my cheek. His fingers traced the shape of my mouth as he leaned in, his breath coming heavier. “Why are you here?” he muttered just before his lips met mine.

  Part of me didn’t think it was fair. Earlier, Mason had aggravated me to the point that all I wanted was to get away from him, and now he was kissing me. And doing a hell of a job.

  His hand curled up at the back of my head; my hair tangled between his fingers. It did cross my mind not to kiss him back, but I couldn’t help myself. This was what I wanted.

  Mason’s mouth was cold and tasted like beer, but I didn’t care because kissing him felt like a dream that I didn’t want to wake up from, sweet and exciting. Mason moved me onto my back and kissed my neck, stroking my hair. His mouth covered my shoulder; he slid the strap of my tank top out of the way and sunk his teeth into me. I gasped, somehow feeling the sensation of the bite in my thighs.

  Mason put his tongue back in my mouth and shifted, settling on top of me. I wound my legs around him and slipped my hands inside the back of his shirt. He rose up slightly and yanked the shirt off, making what was happening suddenly seem serious. Pausing for a moment to watch me, Mason concentrated on my eyes as his hand slid over my chest.

  Although I knew it was way too early for us to have sex, we were primed for it to happen. The thing about that was, it would feel good now; but what would happen in the morning? We’d just had our first kiss five minutes ago, and, according to Mason, we hadn’t even been on a date yet. Reasons—good reasons—we should stop flooded my head, but then Mason leaned in for a long, slow kiss that steadily melted my apprehension to keep going.

  Then Garrett burst through the door. “No jiz in my bed, man. Not cool,” he bellowed, stumbling closer to examine me. “Aw bro, she’s not even naked!”

  Garrett clumsily swatted at the air and then exited the room, leaving the door wide open. Laughter poured from the living room.

  “They’re totally gonna do it in my bed,” I heard Garrett garble. Then there was a loud whistle and a “woo hoo” that I was certain had come from Shelby. If that wasn’t a real mood killer, I didn’t know what was.

  Mason barely looked at me as he got off the bed. “I think I should stay somewhere out there tonight,” he said brokenly, pointing toward the door.

  “Okay,” I said, and he left without another word, closing the door behind him.

  I lay on my back, my arms and legs spread, allowing the air conditioner vent above the bed to cool my overheated body. Catching my breath, I recalled what had just happened and how it could have gone too far if it hadn’t been for Garrett bursting in. I knew I would be grateful to him tomorrow, bu
t at that moment, not so much.

  I’d had three boyfriends in high school and had slept with two of them, so I wouldn’t have been losing my virginity, but sex caused feelings to shift. It could make you jealous and more possessive of a person. Not that I would have become Dixie number two or anything. Also, I didn’t fully trust Mason yet. He was sort of all over the place, so sleeping with him so soon wouldn’t have been smart, but most of all, I didn’t want to give him that much of me and have my heart broken in exchange.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning Dana and Garrett cooked a massive breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage—andouille of course, country gravy, biscuits, shrimp and grits, and pan sautéed asparagus.

  I’d woke with my mouth watering, and surprised that Garrett was functioning at all after last night. I put on my clothes and stumbled to the kitchen. Shelby whistled loudly. “Hey Kat,” she sang, you have a good night last night?” Russ was lying next to her on the couch. “Probably not, since G cockblocked her,” he snickered. That was Russ, King of the one-liners.

  “Oh, uh, sorry about that,” Garrett spoke up from the kitchen. “I really don’t remember doin’ it, but…” he shrugged and sat a stack of paper plates at the end of the bar.

  “Speaking of Mason, is he around?” I asked Shelby, ignoring Garrett’s apology. Sort of in the same way his family ignored his binge drinking.

  “Mason went home early this morning, said he’d be back in a few hours. We’re goin’ ridin’ today.”

  “Riding?”

  “Four wheelin’,” Garrett answered. “Where’d you say you were from again?” he asked, squinting at me.

  “Malibu,” I said, annoyed.

  “You ever been four wheelin’?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll love it,” Garrett confirmed. “If you’re not opposed to gettin’ dirty. Or wet.”

  I would be fine with both of those as long as Mason showed back up. I thought he and I should talk.

  “Food’s ready, y’all,” Dana said. “Come fix a plate.”

  I ate an embarrassing amount of breakfast, but it was so good I didn’t care, and nobody seemed to notice.