“Well, I appreciate y’all indulging me here, but I just wanted to let you know that I like her. I like her…a lot! And we haven’t really talked this out yet—” he says, then leans down to whisper to me, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning. I had something important.”
He stands back up to continue, but keeps his eyes on mine, holding our gaze with a serious look before letting his dimples slide in place again. My heart has literally stopped. My eyes are wide, and the words Mason is saying have me wanting desperately to smile—but shock has taken over everything.
“Anyhow, I just wanted to make sure my intentions were clear. I’ve got some work to do with this one, so I wanted to make sure the story was straight from the get go. I like Avery Abbot, and I’m going to work my ass off to make her like me back. So no hitting on her and messing up my thing, got it?”
He points right at his band mates sitting in the corner. They all raise their beers, jokingly crossing their hearts. By the looks on their faces, I can tell what Mason did surprised them, and something deep inside me is waiting for them to start laughing, for the joke to end—the punch line. But it never comes.
Mason jumps down from the chair, his black work boots making a heavy thud on the floor. I manage to find Claire’s face in the background over his shoulder. I think she may be cheering, but everything is happening in a blurry slow motion, so I can’t really tell. Mason isn’t moving away, but instead, he’s reaching for my hand, pulling me closer to the tight gray fabric of his T-shirt that is hugging his arms and chest.
In seconds, his hands are cradling both sides of my face, his fingertips pushing into my hairline, and then his lips are on me hard. He’s kissing me so wildly, he’s moving me backward until he reaches behind my lower back, pulling me close, leaning me with his force. I give in instantly, my body betraying my mind’s warning signs, and I grip at his back, holding fists full of his T-shirt in my hands.
His lips are everything they were last night, everything they were in my dream. His kiss is firm, commanding—he is definitely in charge, and I’m following, willingly. He smells of the most unbelievable spices, and with each inhale I’m kissing him harder, suddenly drunk on his scent.
He sucks in my top lip, holding it hostage in his mouth for a few long seconds, his hands holding me close to him, almost like he’s afraid something will take me away if he lets go. When he finally releases his hold on my mouth, we’re both breathless, our foreheads pressed together while we cling to one another. I’m lost in this moment, content to just stand here, when another whistle forces my eyes open, this one from Claire.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there this morning,” he whispers, still holding me close. “I wanted to be, but there was something…something very important…that I had to do. I can’t tell you, but I’m asking you to believe me…to trust me. I know I’ve got to earn everything with you. And I will, Avery. I will. I meant every word of that. I like you…I more than like you. So maybe we can start with that?”
My tongue is numb, and my face is still tingling from his touch. I can feel the moisture forming in the corners of my eyes, and I desperately don’t want to cry, but I know I’m going to tear up any second now. I just nod yes to him, because I like him too. I more than like him. But I’m also not ready for him to hear any of that yet. That’s…going to take time.
Chapter 13: Boxes
Mason
“You dog, you bagged Birdie, didn’t you?” Ben says as soon as I get back to the table to join the guys. He’s so loud I know Avery heard him. She ducked back into the kitchen as soon as everyone’s attention left us, and I saw Claire tail after her. She’ll be back there for a while. She looked like she wanted to kill me for my grand display…but she also smiled, so I got what I wanted.
“It’s amazing that you don’t have a girlfriend,” I say, taking a drink of my beer and doing my best to ignore the three sets of eyes staring at me from the other side of the table.
“Fuck you, I have a shit ton of girlfriends,” Ben says, punching me in the arm hard enough to make my beer slip from my mouth and dribble down my chin. I punch him back, and he holds up his fists like he wants to go, but he starts laughing right away, then flips me off.
“Dude, you’ve been home for like, what…two weeks? Who’s this Birdie chick?” Josh asks.
“First off, like I said, don’t call her Birdie. She hates that name, and I lo—really like this girl. So don’t be a bunch of ass**les to her, okay?” I say, my heart racing with what I almost said. Fuck, do I love Avery? Josh is right, it’s only been a couple of weeks. But I’ve also known her my entire life, and I kind of feel like maybe I missed out on something a long time ago.