Behind the Bad Boy

20.

GUYSSSSS

Hi this is the last chapter.

There is a time in everyone's life, I think, when you want to take someone out of your memory and hug them.

For me, this is that time.

I'm so happy that Mason with in Capitola because we would never survive in a long distance relationship.

Well he might, but I sure as hell won't.

I'm standing in the kitchen the day before Christmas Eve, which is today, Wednesday, and I'm scrolling through our text messages.

My family knows I miss him because I wake up every morning in a bad mood and when they ask me what's wrong, I grumble about missing Mason.

I would do anything for a hug from him right now.

I hear someone whisper something and then Aunt Mary says, "shhhh!"

I start to turn to see what the fuck they're hiding, but Grandma goes. 'Melody!" she's talking fast, clearly trying to keep me from turning around. "Are you comfortable?"

"Comfortable?" I repeat.

"Yeah, like, is it too hot in here? Too cold? Here, let me show you how to work the thermostat!" she grabs my wrist and starts to pull.

"I know how to work a thermostat." I say, not following her.

"Then the fireplace." She says.

"Grandma I know how to use a lighter. What are you guys hiding?" I turn around. Everyone is standing up, looking frantic, but they wipe it off of their face. "I'm surrounded by idiots." I mutter.

"Are you comfortable?" Grandma asks again.

"I'm in yoga pants and a sweatshirt and I don't have a bra on. Yes. I'm comfortable."

It's true. I'm in black yoga pants and a gray sweatshirt that says Nike to the front. Honestly, I'm not wearing underwear either.

It's not mine, either. It's Mason's. On Wednesday when I was at his house, he left me alone in his room and went to his bathroom. I grabbed it threw it out the window and when I left to go home, I retrieved from the bushes. I didn't tell him. It's his favorite sweatshirt but I wanted it.

I call it girlfriend taxes.

"Okay, urm..." she says. "Want to help me make cookies?"

"We just made fifty cookies." I reply.

"Want to know what you're getting for Christmas?" she asks. I turn back to her.

"You're just trying to distract me from something."

"You took my sweatshirt! That's where it was!"

I whip around to see Mason, with his hand over his mouth because he blurted that, and his father shaking his head, smiling, and Belle, grinning.

My eyes widen. I look down at the Nike sweatshirt.

Why is he here?

Joy spreads through my veins.

Say something, idiot!

"Girlfriend taxes." I blurt.

He drops the hand over his mouth. "I was supposed to cover your eyes." He says, and then he shrugs. "Too late. It's been five days. I need a hug." He opens his arms wide. I grin and walk into them, wrapping my arms around his neck. His lock around my waist. His grip is tight. I bury my head in his neck and try to be discrete as I inhale deeply. "Melly, are you sniffing me?" he asks, pulling away.