The Moment We Began (A Fairhope New Adult Romance) (14 page)

“A little.”

She clears her throat. “Penny, what exactly
did happen last week?” she asks. “One minute you were
kissing Braxton and having a good time, then the next Mason was
dragging you out into the parking lot. What happened between the two
of you out there?”

As far as Leigh Anne knows, Mason is nothing more
than a dream to me. I’ve never told her the truth about us
sleeping together for the past year.

Maybe it’s time.

I lean back against the seat and play with a
strand of my hair, twirling it around and around my finger. “My
hair used to be so long,” I say. “Remember how Mason used
to tease me about it?”

She smiles. “He used to call you Rapunzel.
He said if your parents ever locked you up in a tower, he would come
save you.”

“My knight in shining armor,” I say.
“Last summer Preston and I had some friends over on the boat.
Mason and a few others. We stayed up really late drinking and playing
cards. Watching movies. After everyone left and Preston went to bed,
it was just me and Mason.”

I take a deep breath in, remembering that night
like it was yesterday.

“We must have stayed up talking until five
in the morning,” I say. “I had my hair in one long braid
down my back and out of the blue, he asked me to take it down. I
remember feeling something shift between us. Like a wall coming down.
I pulled the braid apart and he ran his hands through it over and
over. That was the first time he ever told me I was beautiful.”

Leigh Anne looks over at me, a small smile tugging
at the corners of her lips.

“He kissed me,” I say, running my hand
through my hair. “And then he did a whole lot more than that.”

I watch for her reaction, hoping she’s not
going to be angry at me for not telling her sooner. Her mouth falls
open slightly, but she doesn’t say a word. She just listens.

“He told me right from the start that he
wasn’t looking for a serious relationship,” I say. “I
didn’t want to freak him out, so I said I wasn’t either.
He told me up front that he didn’t intend to be exclusive, but
I thought I could handle it. I thought it would be worth it just to
be with him.”

“Oh, Penny,” Leigh Anne says. She
reaches for my hand and I take it. “I had no idea.”

“Two days later he showed up at a bonfire on
the beach with another girl,” I say, laughing. The sound is
hollow and joyless. “The next day I walked into the salon and
told them to chop my hair off.”

She pulls up to the gate at my house and the night
guard waves us through. When she stops in front of the house, she
turns and pulls me into a hug.

“I can’t even imagine how hard that
must have been,” she says.

“I’ve been caught in that same cycle
ever since,” I say. “When it’s just the two of us,
it’s like magic. But every time I see him with another girl, it
breaks my heart.”

“This has been going on for over a year?”
she asks.

I shrug.

Her eyes widen. “Penny, how come you haven’t
told him how you feel about him? You can’t live like that,”
she says. “You deserve better than that.”

I suck in a breath. “I know,” I say.
“I tried to call it off with him at the boat party just before
you came home. That’s why I went out with Braxton. I was trying
to move on and have fun. But Mason walked in and saw me kissing
Braxton and he freaked out.”

Leigh Anne leans her head against the back of the
seat. “Oh my god,” she says. “That’s why he
took you outside to talk?”

“Yes,” I say, my nose starting to run
from holding back tears. Saying all this out loud makes me sound like
a fool, but there’s no way anyone else can see what Mason and I
share when it’s just the two of us. If they could see that,
they’d understand why I can never let him go. “We kissed,
but he gave me the same speech he always gives me about not being
able to offer me what I want. I guess I couldn’t take it
anymore. I grabbed his keys and drove off, not really thinking about
what I was doing. All I knew was that I was angry and I wanted to get
away. It was stupid.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been
going through this alone,” she says.

I shrug. “It’s nothing compared to
what you were going through. I chose this, you know?”

“You love him,” she says. “Love
makes us do crazy things.”

I smile and wipe my eyes. “Yes it does,”
I say. “So if you find out I’ve done something crazy in
the name of love, don’t judge me, okay? Promise?”

She cocks her head to the side and narrows her
eyes. “Crazy like what?”

I laugh. I shake my head. “I really need to
get inside,” I say. I wrap my arms around her. “I love
you.”

“I love you, too,” she says, hugging
me back. “I’m here for you if you want to talk about it,
okay? You don’t have to go through the hard times alone. I
learned that the hard way.”

“I know,” I say. “Goodnight,
Leigh Anne.”

“Goodnight,” she says. “And for
what it’s worth, I really like your hair like this. It suits
you.”

I smile. “Mason said the same thing,”
I say. “And here I thought cutting it would piss him off, but
he actually liked it.”

“Sometimes men don’t really know what
they want until they see it for themselves,” she says.

A nervousness flutters through me as I realize
that’s exactly what I’m counting on.

I can’t sleep. There’s too much to do
and it’s already late.

I take a shower. dress as simply as I can, then
stare at the set of Louis Vuitton luggage I usually take with me on
trips. It’s a ten-piece set that cost a fortune. My parents
gave it to me as a graduation present after high school, along with a
month-long trip to Europe.

I can’t pack in this.

I pull my closet apart looking for something else
I can use, but I can’t find anything suitable.

It sort of defeats the purpose, though, to go on a
back-to-basics trip with luggage that costs more than the truck we’re
riding in. Besides, the idea of lugging a huge suitcase into a camp
site is just ridiculous. If I’m going to do this, I want to do
it right.

My cheerleading bag is still on the floor of my
closet. I pick it up and groan. This thing is tiny, but I can’t
find anything else.

Never in my life have I packed in something so
small. Not even for an overnight trip.

I’m not sure I can do this.

Part of me says to lift my chin and just do it. I
can live in the woods, right? I don’t need all this fancy
stuff.

But part of me says I’m insane for even
considering it. What if I start throwing up with morning sickness? Am
I really going to want to be without basic comforts?

I shake my head and take a deep breath. I’m
not going to talk myself out of it before I’ve even given
myself a chance. Maybe I’ll be a natural outdoors-woman.

It’ll be an adventure.

And most importantly, it will be my only real
chance to find out if there’s potential for a future with
Mason.

I square my shoulders and set the bag down on my
bed, then get to work choosing what I’m going to take.

First, the very basics. I’ll need underwear.
I can probably make do with seven pairs. Enough for one week and then
I can either wash them in the sink or find a place to do laundry.
Maybe we’ll stay in a hotel that has laundry service. I stuff
them into the bag.

What else? I’ll need shampoo and deodorant
and stuff like that. But when I walk into my bathroom, I feel like
I’m going to cry. I use more products on a daily basis than I
could fit in two of those bags. I don’t want to look gross the
whole time.

I have a few travel bottles of shampoo, so I put
those into a small makeup bag. I take my brush, deodorant,
moisturizer, toothpaste, mouthwash...crap. It’s already too
much stuff.

My muscles tense. This shouldn’t be so hard!
It’s stupid! If I can’t pack light enough to go on a
outdoor adventure, then I really am a snotty rich girl.

Come on, Penelope, get it together.

I compromise and decide to pack my clothes in the
cheer bag and my makeup and stuff in my Louis Vuitton train case.
It’s not ideal, but at least I’m trying, right?

I am able to put most of my makeup and essentials
in the train case, but the clothes bag is a nightmare.

I finally narrow it down to one pair of jeans—the
ones that really hug my butt because Mason always comments when I
wear them—a pair of cutoff jean shorts, khaki shorts, a short
black dress that rolls into a teeny little ball, ten basic colored
tanktops, a couple pairs of flip-flops, two bikinis, and a black
mini-skirt. I have to really squish the bag together to get it to
zip, but when it does, a triumphant smile breaks out across my face.

See? I’m not so terrible at this after all.

I look around my room, trying to figure out what
else I can’t live without for the next couple of months.

I grab the bottle of prenatal vitamins the doctor
gave me. I dump them into a plain plastic bag and toss the bottle
into the trash. This is only a one month supply, so I’ll have
to pick some up when we’re out on the road if we’re gone
longer than that.

I know I won’t be able to stay gone too
long. I’m going to need to come home and get a proper
appointment with an OBGYN and make sure I’m taking care of the
baby. Dr. Mallory told me most people schedule their first visit for
between eight and ten weeks along. According to the measurements of
the baby, I’m a little over five weeks now.

Which means I’ve only got about five weeks
before I absolutely need to get back home for an appointment.

I take a deep breath and touch my belly. It’s
hard to believe there’s a tiny little baby growing inside of
me. I feel completely normal, but there’s this fluttering
heartbeat deep inside. It’s such a strange thing to create a
life. Strange and beautiful and terrifying all at once.

I know I’m taking a huge risk leaving my
comfort zone and the shelter of my parents’ house right now,
but I’ll do anything to give this baby a chance to grow up with
two parents who love each other.

I have to know if there’s a chance for more
between us.

I glance at the clock and see that it won’t
be long before the sun starts coming up.

I grab a pen and notepad from my desk and walk out
onto the balcony. I sit down in the chair and look out over the
garden. It’s dark outside, but in the distance, there is a tiny
haze of light beginning to show. I don’t have much time.

There’s nothing I can say to my parents in a
note that will keep them from freaking out over me being gone, but I
know I can’t just leave without saying anything. They’d
come after me.

I need them to give me space and respect my
decision to leave.

But I’ve never done anything like this
before, and I don’t even know where to start.

Finally, I just scribble the following note:

Dear Mom and Dad,

I know I’ve disappointed you lately, and
I’m sorry about everything I’ve put you through.

I need some time away to think through some
things. I need to be on my own for a while, and I need you to respect
my privacy.

I’ll be out of touch for a while, but I’m
with a friend who will take good care of me. I’ll try not to
stay gone too long. I can’t tell you where I’m gong,
because I’m not exactly sure yet. It will be a true adventure!

I need some time to step away from my life here
and really think about what I want for my future.

I hope you’ll understand that I’m
not doing this to hurt you or scare you. I’m doing this for me.

I’m not sure when I’m coming home,
but if I’m going to be gone longer than a month or two, I’ll
make sure to call and let you know that I’m safe. Please don’t
look for me.

All my love,

Penny

I leave the note on my pillow, grab my two bags,
and tiptoe down the stairs. I go out the back door, avoiding the
night guard out front. I climb over the fence near the pool, feeling
equal parts devious child and determined woman.

I walk to Mason’s in the semi-darkness of
the morning.

I’m glad it’s way too early for anyone
to be up and about, or I’m sure I would look like a crazy
person walking out here in a pair of Docs and cut-offs with a
cheerleading bag slung across my shoulder. Especially in this
neighborhood of million-dollar houses. I hear a few dogs barking, but
other than that, it’s crickets out here.

For the first time since I decided I wanted to go
with him, I’m nervous. Now that I’ve got a second alone
with my own thoughts, I realize just how insane this is. How it’s
totally possible he was just being nice, and that I really am the
reason he’s skipping town in the first place.

What am I going to do if he won’t let me go?
It’s going to be depressing if I end up sneaking right back
into the house.

And I don’t even want to think about how
I’ll handle not seeing him for months.

It takes exactly six minutes to get to his house
and by the time I can see his truck in the driveway, my hands are
sweaty. I rub them against my shirt and take a deep breath. I
straighten my shoulders and throw my head back, flipping my hair over
my shoulders. I’m here now, so I simply won’t take no for
an answer. I’ll make him take me, whether he wants to or not.
Once we get on the road, we’ll be having so much fun and
feeling so free, he’ll be glad I came.

At first, I don’t see him and I think I’m
going to have to go knock on the window of his room, but just as my
feet hit his driveway, he comes out the side door near the garage
with two large duffel bags in hand.

He doesn’t see me at first, and I watch him.
He’s got headphones on and is mouthing the words to some song I
can’t hear. His head is bobbing up and down. He steps forward,
then back, then turns around, dancing his way to the truck. I stand
there, giggling. This is the carefree Mason I’ve loved most of
my life. Not a care in the world. Light as air and not giving a shit
what anyone thinks of him.