Ugh. Yeah, it wasn’t lost on me that I had very few friends, and the ones I did have weren’t close enough for me to talk to about anything that mattered. Fuck, if I didn’t trust my own sisters with this shit, why would I bring someone into it that didn’t share blood with me? I had been betrayed enough. And the boundaries of HIPAA were literally the only place I wanted to let out what was in my head and heart.
Me: I don’t know what to think of you.
Hawk: What does that mean?
Me: You don’t behave like a typical man.
Hawk: I consider that a compliment.
I still wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. Was it because I had learned how to control my interactions with men to fit my own emotional boundaries? I would never be completely free from what had happened with Tucker; I knew that it might haunt me for the rest of my life. But I hated that it made me uneasy—or unwilling?—to accept what Hawk offered. What exactly was he offering, anyway?
I knew how to fuck. And most men were okay with that.
Not Hawk.
I checked the socials and as expected, the Boston media practically salivated over signing Tucker Milligan as shortstop. So not only was I being forced to figure out what the hell was going on with Hawk, but I would be doing it with Tucker in my face every single day.
TWENTY
hawk
I heardthe whir of the treadmill as I stepped into the gym on Monday morning. The sound of the machine competed with rapid footfalls. Kendra was in the zone, pushing herself through a hard run. I watched her for a few minutes before she realized I was staring at her.
“What are you looking at?” she asked after turning off whatever was playing in her headset. My eyes flicked to her nipples, yup, glass cutters this morning.
“I was wondering how you managed to get all that beer out of your system?”
“Oh, it’s not. But I figured a good sweat would help.”
Why was Kendra sweating so fucking sexy? She dripped. But she also didn’t miss a beat with her run as she talked to me. Her pace never faltered.
“Are you training for something?”
“Marathon Monday comes fast. And as much as I love a good run in the cold, ice isn’t my thing.”
Huh. If she were running Boston, this wasn’t herfirst marathon. I loved a good 5K, but it was more about the beer afterward.
“Okay, get back to it.”
“No cardio for you?” she asked.
“Not on machines. I hate machine cardio.” I also hated winter cardio, and after taking a break from it since the summer, there was no way I would get on a machine anywhere in her proximity. I wasn’t one to purposely humiliate myself.
“Oh, I don’t love it either, but sometimes you need to suck it up and motivate.”
I ran through my workout; my eyes continued to wander back to Kendra. Yes, her body was a fucking machine, but it was the determination she showed in everything she set out to do. Running was a physical exercise, but distance running required more mental focus than the average human had. My opinion of her ratcheted up tenfold.
She was gone by the time I finished my workout. Disappointed, I showered and dressed before heading to the office.
Kendra: I didn’t mean to run out on you, but I would have been late for a very important meeting. The boss doesn’t like tardiness.
Me: That motherfucker sounds like a prick.
Kendra: If he has one, I wouldn’t know.
Me: I’m making chicken parmesan tonight. Interested?
Until five minutes ago, I had planned to eat aloneat the bar. But after remembering Kendra’s expression as she ate my soup and sandwich, I was willing to change plans. If she let me, I would cook for her every night.
