Chapter 2: The Internet Explodes

My imagination ran wild—Mason with a secret family in Montana, or maybe twins in Brooklyn. My competitive side flared up, refusing to be the last single one standing.

No way. There’s no chance I’m the only one left in the dust!

I could just see the headlines: “Chloe Reed: Last of the Steel Triangle, Still Single!” Not happening. Not on my watch.

Fueled by pure pride, I started scouring every possible avenue for a marriage partner.

I even opened up Bumble, swiping through a parade of actors, musicians, and one suspiciously familiar weatherman from Good Morning America.

I can handle anything but public humiliation. I’d rather walk barefoot down Sunset Boulevard than let the internet see me as the loser in this game.

Just as I was enjoying the eye candy (purely for research), Mason finally replied.

My phone buzzed, and my heart did a little victory dance. Finally!

First, he sent a laughing-crying emoji, then: “I just got into it with Grant. He’s so shameless—did something so shady and then asked me for a wedding gift. Can you believe this guy?!”

I could practically hear Mason’s exasperated tone, the way he always got when Grant pulled something ridiculous.

I nodded furiously: “Exactly!”

I added a gif of someone flipping a table for emphasis.

Trying to cover up what I’d just been doing, I tried to comfort Mason: “It’s fine, I’m getting married soon, so we’re not missing out.”

Total bluff, but sometimes you’ve got to fake it till you make it.

Then, my phone glitched and froze.

I stared at the spinning wheel, silently begging it to load. Suddenly, Mason’s name popped up—he was calling me.

After Mason fired off a flurry of messages, he went straight for the call.

Notifications were popping off so fast I barely had time to register them. Then the call came through.

I picked up, so startled I almost dropped my phone.

Mason: “You’re getting married? Since when? To who?”

His voice was sharp, almost incredulous. I could picture his eyebrows drawn together, the way he looked when he was genuinely thrown.

To who?

I hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead.

I told him, “Still looking for a partner, but it’ll be soon.”

I tried to sound breezy, like I had a whole roster lined up. In reality, I was still stuck on the first page of Bumble.

Either way, I had to get married before Mason.

This was officially a competition now. I was determined not to come in last.

Otherwise, I’d really lose—face, pride, everything.

The stakes had never been higher. My reputation was on the line, and my pride wasn’t about to let me back down.

Mason seemed to relax a little, and after a long pause, said, “Since you haven’t found anyone yet… why don’t the two of us just tie the knot?”

There was a hopeful, almost playful lilt in his voice—half-joking, half-dead serious.

I was so stunned, I literally forgot to breathe.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to decide if this was real life or just some elaborate prank.

Was Mason actually serious, or was this another one of his jokes?

I half-expected him to burst out laughing and say he’d gotten me again.

He kept going: “Think about it—if we get married, it’ll be the story of the year. Grant will lose his mind!”

I pictured Grant’s jaw hitting the floor, his phone tumbling out of his hand. The pettiness was irresistible.

“And there’s no way we’re letting him get that wedding gift for free—we have to get it back, right?”

Mason’s logic was totally warped but, honestly, kind of brilliant. I started to see the upside.

“If we get married, who’s gonna call us the odd ones out?”

That hit me right in the ego. I couldn’t even argue.

Every word struck a nerve.

I started drumming my fingers on the kitchen counter, weighing the pros and cons. Why not? It was crazy, but it was so us.

Sigh, who told me to brag in interviews that I’d get married the minute Grant did?

I’d always been too quick to talk big in front of the press. Now I had to make good on it.

As I hesitated, Mason added, “And I’ve got years’ worth of wedding gifts saved up. I can definitely keep you happy.”

He sounded so earnest, it made me snort. Only Mason could make wedding gifts sound like a competitive sport.

Whether or not I’d actually be satisfied, I didn’t know, but I definitely wanted to upstage Grant.

I pictured the headlines, the social media meltdown. My competitive side took the wheel.