Chapter Three
Mason
Hauling myself out of bed is a fucking chore on Sunday morning. Lizzy hadn’t left until close to 2 AM. None of us had even realized how late it was getting, we’d just been talking and talking since she’d gotten there that afternoon, stopping only to order food and then, briefly, to eat it when it was delivered.
Having Lizzy back felt like there was a missing piece of us back, like things were right again. Reuniting with her felt a little bit like being eighteen again, taking me back to those first days when the three of us started hanging out.
But I’m definitely not feeling that youth this morning. The lack of sleep has an effect that reminds me that I’m nearly 30 and late nights aren’t what they used to be. But I also remind myself that it was absolutely worth it, and I’d do it again a thousand times.
I’d tumbled into bed in nothing but boxers, so I tug on some jeans and a shirt before plodding down the stairs in search of coffee and food. It’s quiet, and I’m sure Trent’s probably still sleeping.
I get a pot of coffee going and open the fridge, digging out eggs, tortillas, and some other fixings to make myself a breakfast burrito.
When the coffee’s brewed, I pour myself a cup and gulp down the scalding beverage while I finish making my breakfast, then once the burrito’s all ready and plated, I pour myself a second cup and sit down at the table.
The first cup is already perking me up, but putting food and a second dose of caffeine into my system definitely makes a difference, and by the time I’m finished, I’m starting to feel slightly more alive again.
“There still more of that?”
I look up, not having heard Trent approaching. Shirtless and rumpled, he looks about as dead as I’d felt this morning. He’s pointing at the mug in my hand, and I nod. He grabs a mug of his own from the cabinet and fills it eagerly, stirring a little sugar into it before plunking down at the table across from me.
“So last night was fun, huh?” I ask.
He takes a sip and nods. “Yeah, it was. I can’t believe she’s back, just like that. Almost feels too good to be true.”
I hadn’t missed the way he’d been staring at her all night. Not that I could blame him. She’s even more gorgeous than she used to be.
Lizzy didn’t know this, but Trent and I had actually had some fights about her back in college, until we’d finally come to an agreement that it wouldn’t be fair for either one of us to make a move on her. We didn’t want to mess up our friendship, after all.
But that was a long time ago, and the look on Trent’s face has me wondering if our little agreement still stands. “That ex of hers is an idiot,” I remark.
He nods, “His loss, our gain, though, right?”
“Right.”
He takes another swig of coffee, then stares down at the surface of the liquid in the mug. “I missed her more than I realized,” he says quietly.
I watch him for a moment, a dozen thoughts running through my head. “You still got a thing for her?” I force myself to ask.
He glances up, and after a moment’s hesitation, he nods. “Don’t think it ever stopped.”
I remember what it was like when Lizzy had moved away. Trent had kind of spiraled for a bit, drinking a lot and bringing home a different girl every night. It was like if the alcohol weren’t enough, he thought he could fuck the pain away.
Eventually, he’d gotten himself together, and over the last couple of years he’s made a few attempts at dating, but the relationships have all been short-lived.
Not that I’m in a much better boat; I’ve been single for months. I’ve dated on and off, but just haven’t met anyone that feels right.
But maybe my sense of what feels right is all screwed up, because there are two people in my life who do give me that feeling. Lizzy and Trent. And while neither of them knows, they’re each aware of my feelings for the other.
Or at least, they knew back then, but after all the years and all of us dating other people, maybe they think that’s a done deal. It sounds like Trent might be hoping that’s the case, at least.
He looks up at me seriously. “Would you hate me if I asked her out?” he asks, point-blank, “Because if it’s going to fuck things up, I won’t do it.”
I know he means it, that if I tell him right now that I’m not ok with it, he’ll drop it. But I can see just how badly he wants this. And if I’m too chickenshit to make a move on either one of them, who am I to try and keep them apart?
“I could never hate you, Trent, you’re my best friend,” I tell him honestly.
“But is it going to bother you? If I go out with her?”