WITH LIAM MOVING away for college, I didn't spend much time hanging out with friends. Sure, I had people I spoke to during classes and occasionally grabbed a drink or two with, but Mason has become my closest friend aside from Liam.

I never thought we'd get along, at least not at first. He was a golden retriever type of man who was head over heels in love with my sister, but the more I got to know him, the more I respected him. Like Emery, he lost his parents at a young age but never let that stop him from succeeding. The only difference between the both of them is that money has never been an issue for him.

As I push through the crowds of people in a bar downtown on a busy Sunday night, I spot Mason on a barstool with an open seat beside him. His golden shaggy hair, hidden beneath a beanie, is glistening from the overhead lights, and when he sees me, he catches the biggest grin. "Hey, you're actually on time!" he shouts, pulling me in for a hug. Ever since I met him, he's refused to let me be emotionless around him, so I'm used to the hugs by now. He's the only person besides my sister I'm comfortable showing affection for. "I got you a local IPA. Hope that's okay."

"That's perfect," I reply, shrugging off my jacket to rest it on the back of the barstool. A football game is on the television above us, but I avoid staring at it too much. My father's absence growing up made all sports leave a bad taste in my mouth. I hate watching them. "Everything okay? You never text me to grab a drink. Especially in public."

Mason shrugs and releases a frustrated sigh. "I'm good. Iz and I just had a stressful day with all the wedding stuff. She hired this highly-rated planner, but the woman is insane. She had us spend four hours discussing venues. I guess I called because I needed a sense of normalcy. At least for an hour or two."

"Did you at least decide on one?"

With a dip of his chin, he sips his beer and says, "Yeah. We're going with a destination wedding. The Maldives. In May."

I almost choke on my sip of beer. "May? As in this year? That's only four months away."

He shrugs. "What can I say? I'm in love, and I won't be an idiot by wasting another second without your sister having my last name."

"She's lucky to have you, too, you know."

Placing a hand over his heart, he lets out a laugh. "That might just be the nicest thing you've ever told me, Everett. Who the hell has made you so emotional lately? Does her name rhyme with memory?"

I roll my eyes. "That's the corniest thing you've ever said, but no. Well, I don't know. It's complicated."

"Because of Liam?"

We're interrupted when the bartender places a fresh beer in front of me with a wink, letting me know it's on the house, and it bothers me that I'm not sure if it's due to my good looks or if it's because she knows who my father is. I'm certainly not recognized as much as my father is in public, but the paparazzi still follow me, trying to catch a good photo of the highly sought-after nepo baby. At college, I'm able to be a normal human being, but as soon as I head out into the streets of downtown Los Angeles, I'm quickly reminded that I'm the product of one of the most famous athletes in the country. And that's pressure all in itself.

"You know he'd kill me if he found out we had anything going on."

Mason arches a brow. "Really? Because from what I've seen, he's always been a good friend to you and has never wanted anything more than to see you happy. I think he'd be more understanding than you're assuming."

"They dated for eight years. Do you know how long of a time that is?"

"But they ended things," he adds. "For a reason."

"And you need to stop talking to my sister so much. Did she convince you to take me out for a drink?"

His lips twitch, threatening a smile. "No, but I think she has a point, right?"

"And what point is that? Liam claimed it was a mutual decision because he was moving to Wyoming for school, and they didn't want to do long-distance. If I know my best friend well enough, which I think I do, he's going to move back to Los Angeles eventually, and when he does, that distance will be eliminated, and everything will go back to the way it was between them."

My fears tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. The truth is, I'm terrified that Emery will decide to get back together with Liam. I've always been afraid of that. You don't fall out of love with someone after eight years. There will always be some connection between them, and that's partly the reason I never made a move on her when he left. Not only because I didn't want to hurt Liam but because I didn't want to get myself hurt in the process, too.

And now that I crossed that boundary with Emery and started fucking her, I don't trust myself not to let it become more than what it is. The other morning, we laid in bed after sex to talk, something I've never done with anyone before. If we continue down this path, I'm afraid of letting my heart take over my head because then she'll have the upper hand, and then she'll be able to leave me only to return to him.

I'm terrified of being left behind.

Being the second choice.

Being the next best thing.

Mason searches my face as everyone cheers when a player scores a touchdown, clinking their glasses and crowding the bar for another round. "Do you really think so little of yourself? Who's to say she wouldn't choose you?"

Who would? is what I want to add, but instead, I keep my lips pressed together in a firm line. Not even Izzy has heard about my constant self-loathing, so Mason sure as hell won't be the first person I confide in about it.

I'm messed up from my childhood and have fought going to therapy tooth and nail despite my parent's constant efforts for me to go. I'm torn between thinking I need it and reprimanding myself for being so weak. Any other kid would die to be put in my position. I had everything I ever wanted as a kid. Vacations, money, games, toys... But all of that meant nothing if I didn't have parents to enjoy all those things with, and it's been a constant battle about whether my feelings were valid.

Talking about Emery and our relationship that can't ever fucking happen is putting me in a sour mood, so I change the subject. "Enough about her. What else has my sister done to drive you to the point of having a beer? It can't just be the wedding."

Mason chuckles, sighing in defeat. "You know me well. Not only did I spend four hours discussing venues, but I also had to sit through a two-hour-long meeting with your Dad and her."

I scrunch my eyebrows together. "What for?"

"His big charity gala is in two weeks. Izzy is auctioning off some fashion pieces for it and wanted my opinion on the details, but the whole thing gave me a headache. I don't know how she does it every day. It seems like a lot."

I scoff. "You act like you don't deal with the same shit when you're a starting player for the fucking Lakers, Mason." He was breaking records and making a name for himself, and if it weren't for the beanie and sunglasses over his eyes, this entire bar would have bombarded him by now for an autograph.

"It's not the same, man. The fashion world is different. She had to meet with the event coordinator, the lighting director, the fashion director, the stylist, and the..." He heaves out a sigh. "The list is endless."

"Why do you think I've never been to one of these galas?" Fame has never been something I've wanted to partake in, and my father knew that better than anyone, so he never forced me to attend. "What lame theme did they choose this year?"

"Old Hollywood," he says.

I hit my tooth on the rim of my bottle, wincing in pain, but quickly recollect myself. "Old Hollywood? Like, the women from the forties and stuff?"

He nods. "Yep. Izzy designed some incredible pieces to be auctioned off. I've never been so proud of her. The biggest turn-on is watching her become her true self and live out her passion."

"Gross. Anyways, I need two tickets to this thing."

Mason pauses with the beer in his hand. I've never attended any of these events, mainly because they make my skin crawl, but this isn't a coincidence that the theme this year just so happens to be the one era Emery has yet to indulge herself in.

And bringing her to it doesn't mean anything. We're still just...enemies with benefits. I'm not sure anymore if we're friends since that seems to change by the day, but I can do this one thing for her. If it puts a smile on her face, I'd do just about anything for her, so...we're not enemies, far from it. But I wouldn't say we're more than friends, either. We're friends with benefits, and I'm comfortable with that.

"You want to go," he deadpans. "Everett Holden is going to a charity event in Los Angeles? In downtown—"

"Will you stop making it a big deal? Just tell my sister I need two tickets, and have her call me. I have a request."

Mason takes another swig of his beer, but he wears a smug grin on his lips the entire time. "And who is the other ticket for? You know, for guest list purposes."

Rolling my eyes, I catch the bartender's attention for another round. "I don't need to tell you who the other ticket is for. You already know. And wipe that smug smile off your face before I rip that beanie off and feed you to the wolves in here."

Author's Note

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