Page 114 of Rebel Hawke

He releases a little sardonic laugh. “I sure as fuck hope so because right now, I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing anywhere except for when I’m with you.”

That crack in his armor, the ding in his usual steady confidence, makes tears sting my eyes, and I take the picture from him and set it back on the nightstand. He watches medubiously, like he’s waiting for me to crawl off the bed and leave him to go heave in the bathroom again.

I return to him and throw a leg across his hips, spreading myself across his body and laying my cheek on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss on my forehead.

But he doesn’t relax.

Tense under me, I can feel the weight of everything still heavy on his mind.

Tracing the words inked across his chest, their meaning hits me even heavier today than it normally does.

Warriors don’t show their heart until the axe reveals it.

I know the heart that lies beneath my palm, the one that beats for me and this baby and every single member of his family, and I know the one he brings into the ring with him and what carrying that expectation—from himself and the Hawkes—is doing to him.

“I think things will be better after the fight.”

He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “You do?”

“I do.”

Atlas may not believe it, may not be able to see the forest through the trees, but this won’t be forever.

He just needs someone to reassure him of that and make him believe it, too.

“Once the hotel is open and that big thing that’s been looming over the family is over, and once you’ve won that belt, then all that stress is going to be off your shoulders. It won’t feel like you’re carrying the weight of the Hawkes’ future on it.”

“I know it sounds stupid, Little Bird, but if I lose this fight at our hotel opening, it’s just…” He closes his eyes and releases a heavy sigh. “It would be a fucking embarrassment to all of us. I have no choicebutto win.”

There it is.

That “take no prisoners” attitude that’s always served him in the ring is right there; he just needs to dig through the other bullshit to get it out and focus on it.

“Sodoit.” I push myself up so I can lock gazes with him. “You’ve earned it through your hard work and the pain you’ve suffered to get here. Don’t let Gordon win. Do whatever it takes. I know how relentless you can be, how ruthless—”

He grins at me. “Do you?”

I nod, feathering my lips over his. “That’s how I ended up pregnant. Remember?”

“Oh, believe me.” He kisses me. “I remember.” Another kiss. “Every single time I’ve kissed you.” Another. “Every single time I’ve touched you.” Another. “Every single orgasm I’ve ever given you…all seared into my memory forever.”

“You better have a lot more room in there”—I tap my finger to his temple—“given that we’ve only been together for a few months.”

His blond brows rise. “Are you saying you plan on staying with me forever?”

Shit.

We’ve joked about the future, about him buying me a better ring, and he’s said things that have certainly insinuated that’s what he wants. And now, I’m having his baby, which definitely means we’ll be tied together forever as parents. But we’ve never really discussed getting married or anything more permanent than getting through these three months. That single night has always been our finish line in everything we’ve done up until now.

Atlas smiles at me. “I like the sound of that, Little Bird.”

He leans up and presses his lips to mine, tugging me down against him. The tension melts away from his body under mine, and something else hardens the longer he kisses me senseless.

When he finally pulls away, I can see it there in his eyes, that future for all of us.

All we have to do is get through the opening and the fight.

Let him prove to himself that he is who he thinks he is, that he’s back.

---