Page 116 of Songbird: Black Kite
“No,” he rumbled, not looking at me. “I haven’t had vodka in nearly fifteen years. Drinking it always reminded me of you.”
“Hawk,” I whispered, my heart in my throat. I’d said the words as a joke, but his serious answer had caught me completely off guard.
Hawk spun around in the chair, his eyes hooded as he stared at me, my hands clasped in front of me as I fiddled with my fingers.
“Bird,” he breathed, and the reverence in his tone had my nipples peaking under my shirt.
How did he do that? How did he draw these kinds of reactions from me with only a single word? I’d been with other men, even found myself in a few short-term relationships. But none of those men were able to make me feel even a fraction of the things I felt when Hawk said my name.
And itwasmy name. I was his Bird.
In a way, I always had been.
Moving to the table, I reached for the open bottle in the center and picked it up, giving a low whistle when I looked at the label.
“Well,” I offered, pouring another two fingers into his empty glass. “Your tastes certainly have improved in the last fifteen years, that’s for sure.”
“My tastes are exactly the same as they were fifteen years ago, Bird.” He stared at me, his blue eyes dark with heat, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from actually moaning, understanding that he wasn’t talking about liquor at all. “Ain’t nothing changed about that.”
Licking my lips, I placed the bottle back on the table and turned to face him. He stared up at me, his face serious as his hand toyed with the glass, rolling the liquor around gently as he waited for me to speak, but the look on his face had my words stalling in my throat. How could I be expected to form a coherent sentence when he was looking at me like that?
When I continued to say nothing, Hawk lifted the glass, taking a long, slow sip, before setting it back down again. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, and it caused a shiver to race up my spine.
“Why are you here, Bird?” he asked, his chin dipping down.
God, he had suchpresence. Even though he was the one sitting, and I stood over him, I still felt like he was dominating this conversation—hell, the very room.
“I wanted to thank you,” I eventually got out, my words sounding inadequate compared to what I was feeling. “For tonight. For finding Cooper.”
Hawk nodded, but said nothing.
“I know she didn’t really run away, but I was scared just the same. I don’t know what I’d have done if—” My voice broke, the possibilities that came with the end of that sentence too much to bear considering. “Anyway, just thank you.”
“Bird, I’d do anything for her. For you. There’s no need to thank me. It wasn’t even a question, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
The words were spoken with such vehemence that I knew he meant it. He barely knew us, and yet he absolutely meant it with every fiber of his being.”
“Well, still. I wanted to say it anyway. So...thank you. Again.”
I was floundering. All the grand words I’d had planned out, all the things I’d wanted to say, they were all washed away by the overwhelming feelings that bubbled up inside me just from standing next to him.
This was why I needed to be careful. This was the exact reason why I needed to remember who he was and where he came from. Because I couldn’t let myself get swept up in him again. The last time had hurt bad enough.
This time, I’d never recover.
“Anyway, I’d better get going,” I stated, making to head back to the door, but as I walked past him, Hawk’s hand shot out, his warm fingers circling my wrist as he caught me gently and stopped my movement.
“Bird,” he whispered, but the word rang through my mind as though he’d shouted it. Looking down at where he touched me, I could see the small tremble in his hand, feel it as the tension he was carrying in himself transferred over to me.
He was just as affected by my presence as I was by his, and the knowledge of that planted something inside me that I didn’t know I’d needed.
“It’s nearly three in the morning. You could have said thank you just as easily in the sunlight as you have right now.” Dragging my gaze up to his, I stared at him, knowing that I was being called out but unwilling to admit it. “So, I’m gonna ask you again. Why are you here, Bird?”
My knees shook, the feelings rushing through me so more than I could control, and still, I was afraid.
Afraid to speak the truth.
Afraid not to.
