Page 20 of Misted
“Am I interrupting something?” A deep, controlled voice drifts from the entrance.
Life shoots back into my limbs and I’m able to gulp in breaths again.
I slowly tilt my head to the side, half-dreading that he’s not there.
Hawk stands at the door, his broad frame dwarfing the entrance, barely leaving a peeking room for Molly. His face guards the usual impassiveness, but those turquoise blues shoot daggers at my face. The T-shirt strains against the harsh rise and fall of his chest. His stiff posture and shoulders add a menacing edge as if he’s about to fight.
Wait. Maybe he returned from a fight.
My frantic gaze roams over him from the wing tattoos sneaking along his neck to the tight ridges of his biceps and to his narrow waist and legs.
No injury.
My clutch relaxes on Flame's collar and I flex my fingers over his shoulder.
I briefly close my eyes, regaining my steady breathing and chasing away the knot.
My stalker just played me. He sent that text to gauge my reaction and I screwed up big time by running here like a madwoman.
Why can’t I stop caring, damn me?
“Are you planning a lap dance?” The smooth, haunting voice wrenches me from my thoughts.
When I open my eyes, Hawk is watching me with an unnerving, intense stare.
No man intimidates me except for this one. He got under my skin and refused to be purged out.
I let go of Flame’s T-shirt but don’t attempt to step down for the simple reason that Hawk doesn’t tell me what to do.
Flame closes his eyes as if he couldn’t care less that I’m still on top of him and breathing nicotine off him.
Now that I made sure Hawk isn't hurt, I need to flip back the indifference switch.
“What’s up?” Scar’s blond mane peeks from around Hawk. She makes eye contact with Molly and sticks a finger in her mouth as if she’s about to throw up. “What are you doing here?”
Molly grins wide, baring her teeth. “What do you think? I can’t miss a chance to ruin your plastic doll face.”
Scar returns a fake smile. “Not before I shatter your skull, Goth girl.”
They continue their death threats, but all I feel is Hawk. His energy, his mere presence, the way he sucks air from the room and enchants my body to his.
I stare at Flame’s face that appears bored even during sleep, but my muscles tighten with the urge to get up and go to him. I want to purr like a kitten and rub myself against him. Maybe then, I’ll finally feel the comfort I’ve been missing for a decade and a half.
The fact that he’s so close nearly crumbles my resolve.
Just leave already. Let’s restart our vicious cycle where we pretend neither of us exists.I shout at him in my mind.
I don’t get a warning.
A strong hand clasps around my wrist and he pulls me down. I fall off Flame’s chest and almost hit the ground. Tumbling to my feet, lips parting as my heart pounds against my ribcage.
Hawk is touching me.
After more than fifteen years, he’s… touching me.
A tingle starts beneath the skin of my wrist and dances down my spine even when I try to shut it down. I stare up at him with my mouth in an 'O'. A tornado of emotions clouds his face but I can't make out any of them.
Still staring down at me, he speaks in a curt tone, “Everyone out.”