8. Mack
Chapter eight
Mack
I check my watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I scan the block. Maybe, suggesting we meet in neutral territory, away from the station, wasn’t my brightest idea. Maybe, Maya won’t show after what happened in the elevator this morning. Maybe—
Then I spot her through the crowd, and every last hesitation fades away. I thought Maya was a bombshell in uniform, but nothing compares to the way she’s stalking toward me, looking like a goddamn goddess. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders instead of being pulled back in its usual ponytail. Tight jeans hug curves usually hidden by our bulky uniforms, and a silky dark green top shows off her defined shoulders, making my mouth go dry as I remember how perfectly she fit against me in that elevator.
“Worried I wouldn’t show?” The familiar challenge in her ice-blue eyes is tempered with a teasing smile as she approaches.
“Never doubted you for a second.” I grin, falling into step beside her. “Though I was starting to wonder if you got lost.”
“Some of us don’t have legs the length of fire ladders,” she shoots back, sending me a sidelong glance. “And Hudson Yards isn’t exactly down the street from the station.”
“I thought avoiding any potential run-ins with folks we know would be best.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs in agreement. “Where are we going, by the way?”
I dip my chin toward the fancy hotel across the street, enjoying the way her eyes widen. I let her jump to conclusions and assume my intentions for a hot second, because she’s so damn adorable when she’s mad.
“You thought the best place for us to talk is a hotel ?” she exclaims, spinning toward me. “I thought we agreed this morning we couldn’t…” She trails off, waving a hand between us, “That it’s a bad idea to…”
Finally, I relent, leaning in close. “Relax, Thorne. It’s not like I booked us a room.”
“You didn’t?” The way she utters the words, the question tripping over her tongue, reveals she was hoping I did. Which is good because the key card I picked up twenty minutes ago is burning a hole in my pocket. But there’s no way I’ll lead with that. Not when I need to see how things go first, before we risk everything.
“Nope,” I lie, not feeling even a teensy bit guilty about it.
“Good,” she insists, straightening her shoulders. “Because my roommate assumed this outfit was coming off when I told her I was going out tonight, but I assured her that was not happening.”
So she talked to her roommate about me. This just keeps getting better and better. Especially the way her jaw drops when I murmur, “Don’t be so sure about that.”
“What?”
I lean down, pitching my voice low. “The spa here offers, hands down, the best sports massage in the city, and no offense, I can tell how tight you are.” Her breath catches, and I can’t help but add, “And giving you a massage myself, as much as I’d like to, definitely wouldn’t help us stay professional, now would it?”
“A sports massage is fine. Sounds good,” she assures me entirely too quickly. Satisfaction curls in my gut for the second time today. Because we’re on exactly the same page about what would happen if I put my hands on her.
“Thought you might say that.” A uniformed doorman holds the door for us as we approach. I gesture for her to go ahead of me with an exaggerated flourish. “After you, firecracker.”
Her eyes narrow at the nickname, but I catch the way her lips twitch. “You’re impossible.”
“Part of my charm.”
The well-appointed massage room we’re shown to in the second-floor spa is warm and dimly lit. I watch Maya’s face as realization dawns that I’ve booked a couples massage, with two tables arranged side by side. Close enough we could reach out and touch but separated, like us. The irony isn’t lost on me.
“We’re here to talk, too,” I remind her.
She nods and swallows. “Right, talk.”
Behind privacy screens on each side of the luxurious tiled room, we strip down, and I can’t help but notice Maya flicking a glance my way as we settle onto our respective tables. Knowing she’s nearly naked under the fluffy white towel wrapped around her lithe body is pure torture. I shift uncomfortably against the table beneath the sheet, trying to ease the pressure on my rock-hard length, because I need to focus. To figure out what the hell we’ll do about the situation we’re in.
Fortunately, the massage therapists enter and, after a few questions, get started. For a little while, the only sounds are soft music and our breathing. I’m hyperaware of Maya’s presence just feet away, even with my face pressed into the headrest.
“This feels amazing,” Maya murmurs, her voice soft and languid, melting around the edges as if she’s half-asleep.
I couldn’t agree more. The therapist’s oil-slicked hands slide deftly over my calves, working out tension I didn’t even know I had.
We make small talk for a few minutes. First about the station, then talk turns to the guys. Maya asks what Jake’s deal is when it comes to women. I admit I don’t know the entire story, but I tell her about how something happened between Jake and Brock’s sister, Charlotte, last New Year’s Eve. Not sure what, because Jake has always been unusually tight-lipped when it comes to the events of that night, but one thing is clear. They both seem to have it out for each other.
“Should make for an interesting time at the wedding,” she muses. Damn, the wedding. I almost forgot. And after that kiss, how the hell will I make it through an entire weekend near Maya without completely losing my mind? I draw a deep breath and can’t hold back anymore. “Maya, about that kiss…”
“Mack, I…” she starts, trailing off as if she’s not sure what to say.
“Look, I know we can’t—oooh,” I groan as the therapist hits a particularly tight spot. “I know there are rules. Good rules. Important rules.”
“But?” She knows me too well already.
“But I can’t stop thinking about you.” I wish I could see her face, though her sharp intake of breath is almost as good. “And not just about the kiss, though believe me, that features prominently.”
“Mack,” she says again, softer this time.
“Ever since you walked into the station, I haven’t been able to resist this undeniable pull of you.” I turn my head to the side, catching her eye. “You’re…extraordinary, Maya. Everything I would have been looking for in a woman, if I’d known better. If I’d admitted what I wanted. Because you walked in with your fierce determination, and suddenly, all my talk about staying single made about as much sense as running into a burning building without gear.”
A blush creeps up her neck, but she holds my gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she admits. “When you’re not being insufferably overprotective.”
“Me? Overprotective?” I groan as my therapist works on a knot in my hamstring. “I prefer to think of it as professionally concerned.”
Her laugh, soft and genuine, makes my heart flip. “Professionally?”
“Alright, personally, too,” I admit.
“Uh-huh.” But she’s smiling now, really smiling, and I’d gladly make a fool of myself to keep that look on her face.
We fall quiet again as the therapists work, but it’s a comfortable silence. Until Maya speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel it too, you know. Whatever this is between us.”
My pulse races. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “But we can’t. Our careers are on the line.”
“Trust me, I know.” I release a long, heavy sigh. “I’m sure I can’t even fathom how much harder than any of the guys you’ve had to work to get where you are, to overcome the biases. Believe me, I’ve heard the comments, from other guys when it comes to women in the department. But Chief? He wouldn’t stand for that at Ladder 24. And the last thing I want to do is to fuck up things for you.”
“Even if it means we can’t…”
“Even then. For now.” I heave a sigh, wishing I had a better answer. “You’re too good at what you do, Maya. The department needs more firefighters like you, not fewer.”
She’s quiet for so long I think maybe that’s the end of it.
“You make me feel safe,” she finally admits. “Not because I need protecting, but because you see me. Really see me.”
My throat tightens with emotion. “Back at you, darling.”
She doesn’t protest my use of a nickname, and the omission is more revealing than anything she could say. And makes me more determined than ever to find a way to be with her. Though we’re in an impossible situation, my heart feels lighter than it has in days. We sure as hell have solved nothing, but at least, now, we’re both acknowledging there’s something here worth figuring out.
Even if we have to keep our distance while we do it.
But as the therapists exit quietly and Maya lifts onto her forearms to look over at me, the curve of her bare breast pressed against the table melts my resolve faster than wax under a blowtorch. Especially when her gaze slides to the towel covering my ass and her lips curl into a saucy half-smile that makes me want to break every regulation in the department handbook.
“But surely,” she says, “one time, just to get it out of our systems wouldn’t hurt.”