Chapter 6: Mase
Mase tucked his phone back into his pocket, his attention back on Daisy. "Look," he started. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. I sounded like an asshole—"
"No, you didn't." She jumped in. "I mean—you sort of did, but not really. I know you were stressed and needed space."
It was his turn to interrupt. "That wasn't it. I wanted you to know I was okay. I didn't want you to worry."
Red stained her cheeks, but she continued to hold his stare. Her green eyes were wide and honest. "I always worry, Mase. You're my best friend."
Yeah, friend. He'd had enough of this friendship thing, even if it was his fault he found himself in this position. He was a stupid kid, relegating Daisy to some category of "untouchable." In hindsight, it was a good thing. When they'd met, his head was so big and all he cared about was getting laid; he hadn't been good enough for her. She was special; somehow, his stupid ass recognized it. He'd always loved her. Always. Even when he was dating girls and, god, flaunting them right under her nose, he knew there was nothing about them that would ever touch her qualities.
For years now, he'd realized his friendship with Daisy was the most important thing in his life. She was the most important thing in his life. Everyone in his family knew it. His mother and sisters had been after him to tell her how he felt. Even his father, grouchy old man that he was, told him if he didn't act fast someone else would steal her away.
Each time they were together, Mase watched her for a sign that she felt more than friendship. There were times—like tonight, when she threw herself into his arms or when she was pushing Em's gurney onto the elevator, holding his eyes and smiling—he thought it was possible. He was tired of second-guessing himself, or dissecting every interaction they had. If she wanted a friendship, he'd give it to her.
But if they could be something more? He'd wasted enough time, and he was man enough to know what he wanted.
Her.
"You're my best friend, too," he whispered, reaching for her hand. Her fingernails were short and her hands chapped from constantly washing them. "But—dammit." This was hard. Much harder than he thought it'd be. He was as nervous as he'd been at his first fire. More so, maybe, because he had more to lose. "Daisy, I want something more."
Her wing-tipped eyebrows drew together, leaving her looking like a confused pixie. "Huh?" Glancing down at their hands, at his fingers playing with hers, she seemed to grasp his meaning. Gracias a Dios. "Mase?" Enfolding his hand between both of hers, she squeezed.
"Daisy," he continued, his eyes searched her face. Her lips curled at the corners, and his heart lifted. "Daisy." His voice was stronger now, more confident. "You've been my best friend, and you always will be. But what I feel for you is different. Stronger. I..."
With each word leaving his mouth, her smile grew, and she began to bounce, little excited motions that made him chuckle and encouraged him. "I fell in love with you."
Her smile was so wide, her cheeks scrunched her eyes. "You fell in love with me?"
"I did," he answered, waiting for her to say something more. Her eyes scanned his face, her smile staying in place, before she cleared her head with a shake. "I did, too.” Realizing she'd left him hanging, his declaration between them, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I've loved you, too. Probably since high school."
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked into her hair then breathed in deeply, smelling the clean scent of her beneath the antiseptic hospital smell clinging to her.
"How could I?" She sat back. "Look at you, Mase. You're a freaking god with your muscles, and then there was the line of models—"
He groaned, pulling her back into his lap. "I'm an idiot."
Smacking his arm without any real heat, she replied, "Don't talk about yourself like that."
"Just calling it like I see it," he said. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time, but it took years for me to realize why I only ever thought about you. Why I measured everyone against you. None of them could compare."
Smiling, she pulled back. "So what does this mean?"
"You want a label?" Leave it to Daisy to want everything organized, neat and tidy.
"I do," she answered, nodding enthusiastically, her blonde hair drifting across her chin.
Cupping her cheek, Mase tilted her head back and lowered his face to hers. Her eyes held his, the smile disappearing from her lips as she realized his intent. "You're mine, Daisy. My best friend. My girlfriend. The person I've spent years loving and the person I'll spend the rest of my life loving."
"Mase." His name came out on a breath, and her eyelids fluttered closed.
Recognizing surrender when he saw it, he caught her lips with his. She was everything he ever dreamed she'd be. Her lips were soft and her breath minty, like she'd been chewing gum to stay awake on the ride to his house. This was their first kiss, and he was determined to make it good. Her lips opened under his onslaught, tongue shyly touching his when he pushed inside her mouth.
He used everything at his disposal—hands, lips, tongue. And the sounds she made, breathy moans of satisfaction and enjoyment. Her body undulated, rubbing and grinding on his lap.
Mase couldn't get enough of her; he needed to touch everywhere. Encircling her slight rib cage, he reveled in the sensation of having her in his arms. Her body was soft, small but curvy. He loved the way his hand spanned her back, but she wasn't bony. There was skin and muscle to grasp. She was perfect, absolutely perfect for him, made for him to knead and curl around.
Grasping her waist, he moved her to straddle him. He couldn't help it, he had to thrust upward. With a hand on her lower back, he encouraged her movement, helping her rock back and forth against him. More than anything, he wanted to rip her clothes off, flip her over and thrust inside her, but he held himself back.
Pulling her shirt away from her skin, he slid his hands along either side of her spine. Her skin was so hot it burned his rough palms. Beneath them, her skin pebbled, and she shivered. Her tongue curled, swiping across his teeth and along the roof of his mouth, and he sucked, hard. Groaning, she pulled her mouth away and drew in a deep breath of air. "Mase." She sounded like she'd been running a race, but rocked on him again.
"Daise," he whispered, tracing her eyelids with his lips. "Is this real?"
Her eyes opened, and she stared down at him. Nodding, she tilted her head back, kissing his chin and grazing his skin with her teeth. "Finally."
In his pocket, his phone vibrated. He tossed it, ignoring it for the first time in as long as he could remember. Deliberately, and not at all smoothly, he scooted down the couch until Daisy was perched on top of him and he was prone beneath her. Her hair was mussed, cheeks red, and her eyes glittered with desire. Her hands pulled at his t-shirt, tracing the muscles she found, and he arched upward. It felt so good, her hands were a little rough, working hands that tickled and simultaneously aroused him. He shifted, reaching for the bottom of the shirt to take it off when his house phone rang. At the same time, his cell began to ring. Then his pager.
"Shit." Never before had work held so little appeal for him. "Maybe they don't need me," he thought aloud, but Daisy giggled.
"Sure. That's why your phones are exploding. Because they don't need you." Her face got serious all at once. "Are you going to be okay?" She adjusted, sitting next to him so he could check his pager. Her question didn't offend him, instead her concern touched him. Tonight was crazy. His emotions swung from guilt about Em, to outright joy at the knowledge that he and Daisy were following the path they were always meant to take. It would make concentrating difficult, and the one thing he needed for his job, always, was focus.
Rather than answer flippantly, he considered her question. Would he be able to do what he needed to tonight? Compartmentalize and be all-in?
The answer came to him quickly—yes. Daisy, always the center of his universe even when he didn't want to admit it, would be waiting for him, worrying about him. He'd ensure the safety of the crew and do whatever needed to be done to return to her safely. There was no other option.