Reputation (Mason Family, #2)

by Adriana Locke

“If you ever start to feel any certain way about yourself,” he says, “I want you to remember the look on my face right now.” He gives me a soft, simple grin. “Because this is the look of a man who can’t believe he gets to be inside you.”

“You’re so demanding,” he says, sliding out and then quickly shoving himself back in. “You’re so … delicious,” I hiss as he begins to find a rhythm. He chuckles. “That’s a nice change in attitude.” “Just give me the dick and watch me be a doll.”

I’m not sure how I’m ever going to crawl out of this bed and be the person I was when I climbed in. This feeling is every love song I’ve ever sang, every emotion I’ve tried to elicit with a constructed lyric. It’s calm in the midst of an unpredictable world. It’s safe when nothing else feels solid. It’s like the last piece of the puzzle that you find under the rug snapped into place, and the hours of searching for that one tiny piece finally pays off.

“If you ever need anything, you call me, and I’ll either talk to you, come home, or fly you to me,” I tell her. “You wanna fight, fuck, or flee your life for a while—I’m your man.”

“Because you, beautiful girl, don’t realize how gorgeous you are and how impossible it is not to want to fuck you when you pretend I’m not the best.” She grins. “Who said I’m pretending?” I lean over and kiss her. She melts into me, just like I knew—and hoped—she would. “You just did,” I whisper.

“We secured a peace treaty,” I tell her. “Did you say a penis treaty?” My jaw drops in faux surprise. “What has gotten into you?” “Hollis’s penis, actually.”

“What’s happening? Want to talk it out?” I give him an odd look. “What is wrong with you?” “I’m trying to be a good brother.” “Well … don’t. It’s weird.”

“I want to be with you so much that I can’t stand it. Being in your arms feels like the one place in the world I should be. But it comes with the possibility of so much pain …”

But is that enough? Because I know how the world works. It’s cruel and evil, and just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean they’re yours forever.

I'm without reservations but not without fear. But I figure a little fear is healthy.

Blaire turns around and faces us. “Boone just shared a few semi-remarkable observations with me. I think he’s on the precipice of enlightenment.”

“I don’t want to be enlightened.” He sighs. “No more podcasts for me while I run. I’m going back to songs about cars and money.”

There will come a day when you just know. And then it’s over.

I always attributed it to residual stress, or being behind on deadlines, or anxiety about the press, or ticket sales, or balancing everything in my life. But it’s clear at this moment it was none of those things. It was not having her. My brain, my heart—fuck, my soul—knew what I needed. I just didn’t listen.

“This makes you nervous, doesn’t it?” I nod. “Why?” I shrug. “I don’t want to get used to it.” He touches my lips lightly with his. “Get used to it.”

“I love you, too,” I tell him. And I do. With all my heart. “Well, I love you both, but I’m cold, so can someone turn on the car?” Dad asks.

“All I wanted to do was to make it long enough for you to find someone to love you like I do,” he says. “I knew it would be Coy. I just had to wait long enough.” Coy bows his head. “You’re going to be fine, Bellamy,” Dad says. “And I’m not dying today. But if I do, then I’ll get to see your mother again, and I’m so ready for that day.”

“I’ll make her the center of my world,” I promise him. “And I’ll get her chicken noodle soup with no carrots and throw her the biggest birthday parties the world has ever seen.” “Coy …” Tears spill down his cheeks as he looks up at me. He struggles to maintain his composure. I swallow my own emotions.

“I can rest easy now,” Joe says, blotting his eyes. “Not that easy.” I make a face. “If you die tonight or something, I’m not marrying her out of spite.”

“I know you just said you didn’t want them,” I admit. “And if you don’t, then I don’t. I want you way before I want anything else.” It’s the most real thing I’ve ever said in my life.

I grab myself and jack it a few times just to get a reaction out of her. Her eyes go wide, and she bites her bottom lip. “We could do some oral reciprocation,” I offer her. “My tongue on your pussy and your little mouth right here.”

“I’m sorry we waited so long to get on the same page. And I’m even sorrier that we fell off it so quickly.” His eyes grow wide. “What are you talking about—sorrier that we fell off? What the hell, Bellamy?” “This will never work.” “The hell it won’t.”

“If nothing else, at least I stress cleaned. The outside will look like I have it all figured out.” Which is the motto for my life.

“You and my son are two very special people,” she says. “You were destined for something greater than the mundane, for a love that’s bigger and brighter than the ordinary.”

“You know, Wade is the one I usually fantasize about punching in the face. But tonight, it’s you.” “If you think you’re big enough, little boy, try it.”

You come to me for everything, Coy. Who did you call when you needed a new attorney over that fast food bullshit? Me. Who did you call when you couldn’t decide what house to buy? Me. Who did you fucking call when you thought you had ankle cancer—which isn’t a fucking thing, by the way—and you didn’t know whether to tell Mom?”

“Loving someone is action. It’s communicating and compromising and working your ass off.

“If this is the case,” he says, “then fine. You should wait to jump head-first when you’re sure. Because you should never commit to someone’s heart unless you’re ready to take care of it in every way.”

“A life without tears is a life unlived.”

Figured there’s no reason to torture myself with salmonella too.” “I’ve seen the men you sleep with. Salmonella is the least of your concerns,” Larissa says, scraping the batter into the garbage disposal. “Now, go get yourself cleaned up.”

“Did she say yes?” Boone asks. “Because Mom keeps texting me and asking, and I’m not sure what to say other than you’re making out in front of a construction crew.”

“I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. You can try to wiggle your way out, but I guarantee you won’t win. I’m just … I’m done living without you. Nothing’s worth making you frown or sad or cry. Just ... don’t fucking cry.”

I look at the man under me. The boy I fell in love with so many years ago. The guy who’s been my neighbor, my friend, my enemy, and my lover.

Love will always find you. You just have to trust the process. And that’s only possible when you trust the person you love.

“I am so sorry,” Bree says, following her idol into the house. “I didn’t mean it. Again. Why do I always hit you?”

“Is your face okay?” “It would be better if you sat on it.”

It’s meant to be experienced. Life is meant to be lived, not survived. It’s for loving and fighting and complete mess-making. Life is for taking risks and winning and losing and learning.

I’m not just good. I’m blessed beyond measure. And it’s all because of the boy next door—the one with the bad reputation.