Page 11 of Hawke
“What was what?” I defended, holding the towel in my hand.
“Don’t claim innocence, Dede. Why the hell did you hug him?” Hawke growled.
He continued to walk toward me, his breath heaving with the smell of peppermint schnapps and whisky. He’s been drinking, and a lot from the smell of it. It was not a good combination when he started drinking multiple liqueurs.
“Because he’s my friend. He was asking how I was,” I stated, lowering myself to the floor to pick up the glass. But I didn’t get very far because Hawke grabbed my arm and pulled me back to standing. “What–?”
“You are going to hurt yourself. Don’t pick that up,” he snapped.
“Well, if you didn’t knock it over, I wouldn’t have this problem.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he let my arm go.
The warmth from his touch didn’t fade, and I contemplated cutting off my arm, so I didn’t have to feel it linger on my skin.
Hawke’s face changed to an intense scowl as his dark eyebrows drew downward. His usual neat mohawk was in disarray, his cut not clean like it typically was. “I worry about your safety.”
“Ha!” I grabbed the tray, shielding myself. “If you cared about my safety, you wouldn’t have led me on for the past two years. But men are usually only thinking about the physical, right? Not the mentality of a person.”
“Dede,” he growled.
“It’s fine, Hawke. I get it. Take what you want, don’t think about the consequences. And you are damn right. I am glad I never slept with you. Otherwise, I’d go pop the tires on your precious bike or maybe leave a snake in your bed. But nope, just a kiss. Kisses mean nothing, you know?” I winked and put my tray on the bar.
The rest of those cleaning had scattered when the beer glasses fell. But I could feel their heated bodies on the other side of the kitchen door, listening, waiting. They would all see that whatever this was between Hawke and me was over. They would all draw their own conclusions about why I left, but by the fates of the universe, it wouldn’t be because I was weak or a coward. It was because I would not put up with being trampled on.
“What do you want, Hawke? I’ve got to clean up.”
Hawke followed me to the bar. I waited, leaning up against it. The heavy scent that still lingered on my pillow at night appeared. It almost brought me back into the fog, but my heart no longer beat for him. Not when he rejected me.
“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean… It’s just that things are complicated, Dede. Shit about me, that you don’t know about it prevents me–”
From ever being happy?
“I’m great.” I turned to him, giving him the brightest smile. “If friendship is what you want, you’ve got it. I just need a little space, you know? Just to do a bit of a reset on my end, alright?”
Hawke’s eyes softened, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Alright, if you need anything–”
“I’ll let you know.” I nodded and pushed the door to the kitchen open, leaving Hawke where he needed to be.
Away from me and my heart.
Chapter Four
Hawke
Delilahrotatedherheadin amusement, her smirk becoming more visible as she pushed the kitchen door open. The leering eyes on the other side quickly darted away from the door. The servers were washing damned imaginary dirt from the walls.
Letting out a growl, I swung my arm across the bar and the sound of shattering glass filled the air as I watched the clean glasses break on the floor. My breathing was heavy, my fucking wolf trying to press through the window of my mind.
I had no reason to continue behaving in this way, as I had already achieved what I wanted.
To keep her safe.
Delilah was just afriend. But that was not how everyone saw us as. They saw us ascomplicated. And whose fault was that? When drunk, my wolf seemed to have a mind of his own and dousing his cock in the slick heat of this female was his goal.
The reason she stood out was because she possessed qualities and traits that we did not have—a forgiving spirit, faithful beyond measure, and a heart made of the purest gold.
I was not worthy of Delilah, and I now understood that I was not the one she deserved. She deserved something much more than what this place had to offer.
I could feel my wolf scratching, eager to be released from within me. I could almost feel the blood drip down the walls on the side of my head. He had become more vocal, along with the rest of the clubs’ animals. Either it all meant we were going to be dead and buried soon, or there was fucking shifter flu going around.
