Page 5 of Hawke

Did I need another kiss? Another night of endless flirting and kissing? I hadn’t even slept with the man, but I wanted him more than air.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered until he pushed his lips onto me. They were chapped from the cold, probably from taking too long of a bike ride in the blustery wind. He didn’t seem to care because once he kissed me, letting out his whimper of a moan, I gave into his ministrations.

This was when I felt like he wanted me. Not just when he kissed me but when his voice cracked, and he spoke to me like no one else. Whispers of promises he had never kept, whimpers and purrs from his chest when he held me.

I felt my arms instinctively rise, and I tightly embraced him around his neck before passionately kissing him back. I took what he gave me because I was too far gone. I loved this broken man when I shouldn’t. I was broken, too, and two broken pieces didn’t make a whole. Especially if one piece doesn’t want to fit.

After this kiss, he would go back to ignoring me. He would fall back into the shadows of his life, watching me from afar. He would go weeks without saying a word to me. Just watch me from either a darkened corner, across a lonely street or from the window outside my bedroom.

This was it,I told myself.

Hawke cupped the back of my head, making the kiss even harder to bear. His fingers found the hairband I had thrown my hair into and pulled it away. The band fell to the floor. His fingers tugged at the roots of my blonde hair. The sting was softened by his tongue entering my mouth, and a delighted whimper escaped me.

He pulled away, his eyes blazing with a hunger far brighter than I’d ever seen. My lips parted, waiting for him to speak, but instead he cleared his throat. The foggy haze that kept us both entranced with each other faded fast.

“I’m–” he began as he let go of me. I leaned back onto the large basin and touched my bruised lips. I could still feel the bristles of his beard on my upper lip, and the fresh peppermint schnapps still lingered on my tongue.

Before he could spout outsorry, like he normally did after such a kiss, I grabbed his shirt. I couldn’t let him get away. He would not run from me ever again. He wasn’t allowed. I was worth more than that.

I wasn’t some woman he could kiss and leave, acting like nothing had happened, not anymore. He would not go weeks without speaking to me, only to come back and say he missed our friendship. To hell with friendship.

Friends don’t kiss.

My heart couldn’t take it.

“I need to talk to you,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Now.”

The demand startled him. He tried to pull away again, but I gripped his shirt to the point of tearing. “What are we?” I hissed, feeling the venom leave my tongue. “And you can’t run, Hawke. Not now, never again, until we have this conversation.”

Hawke’s stoic face returned; it was the usual demeanor he gave to everyone else. He was no longer playful after the sweet tango of flirting, followed by a regretful kiss.

“What are you talking about?” He pulled my hand away from his shirt.

I rolled my eyes. He cocked a brow in response.

I wasn’t bratty, I wasn’t mean, I waslittle miss sunshineto everyone. No one could hurt Delilah; Delilah was always happy.

Newsflash,Delilah wasn’t always happy.

“What are we?” I softened my tone. “You talk to me, we flirt, you threaten people, we kiss, you run away. You always come back, and I let you.” I bit back the tears. I would not cry in front of him. He wasn’t worth it. No man was worth it.

But I was falling apart before he even answered because I knew what he was going to say. I could see it in my head. Hawke rehearsed it every day when he looked in the mirror to shave. He’d integrated it into every part of his being.

“We can’t be more than friends.” He gritted his teeth. “You know that, this job—”

“Friends don’t kiss, not the way we do,” I countered. “Not the way you hold–”

“Enough Delilah,” he snapped. “We can’t–” The vein in his neck pulsed. His temper was rising, and he had never raised his voice to me.

“Can’t what?” I said disappointedly. “Can’t be together because of your job, your situation with the club?” I threw my hand out to show him the massive kitchen like he’d never seen it before. “I watched Journey and Grim. There can be more. Grim found happiness with that woman who was nearly a shell. Journey has grown in just a few weeks because they found happiness together!”

“Dede, stop,” he hissed.

“Don’t you see? We can have what they have. We can be a couple, be together, not be afraid—”

“Delilah!”

“No, you listen to me!” I stood into him, chest to chest. “I am not some toy; I am not someone to play around with. I’ve stayed far longer than any woman would have. I have devoted myself to you for almost two years. Wait, I take that back.” I turned my back to him. “You have made sure no other man has come near me. Not that I would have accepted their advances.”

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