“And tonight?” he asks.
“I chose something else.”
His eyes search mine.
“For the mission?” he asks.
“For myself,” I say. And then, because truth demands completion it, “For you.”
The admission feels like stepping off an edge. Hawk closes the space between us.
“You didn’t drag me into this,” he says quietly. “I stepped in.”
“I know you did, Hawk.”
“I don’t regret it.”
“I know.”
His hand lifts slowly to my waist.
“I needed to understand,” he says.
“Now you do.”
“Yes, you saved our nation … probably the world, Kat. You were beyond brave. You don’t get to disappear,” he says softly.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m the one not finished with you.”
We stand there with Cupid City hiding behind heavy curtains and champagne warming our blood. I don’t feel trapped by his statement. I am simply aware of the man in front of me and the next choice I’m making.
Chapter 13
Hawk
Now I know her past and why she was here in Cupid City. Honestly, it was more high stakes than diamonds. She shared an overview of her story and it might be painful to recall details. It doesn’t diminish how I feel. I have a good idea what she’s been through, but I would never underestimate it. Nor would I hold it against her. In fact, I respect that she’s held herself so well through it all.
Kat moves toward the bathroom without saying much — just a soft, “Give me a minute.” I nod and watch her disappear as the door clicks closed.
For a few seconds, I just stand there letting my pulse come down from everything that’s happened — the suite upstairs, the smoke, the trolley, the way she looked at me when she said she chose something else.
Chose me.
Water pipes groan softly behind the walls. I hear the steady rush of bathwater filling porcelain. I lean back against the dresser, arms crossing loosely over my chest. My mind keeps replaying her voice.
For you.
The sound of water continues. Then, I hear her call … “Hawk.”
My name carries through the door. I stop just outside the frame.
“Do you need something, Kat?” I ask, keeping my voice even.
“Yes … you.”
Everything inside me tightens. I reach for the handle. A cloud of steam hangs in the air, thickening until the room feels like a spa on another planet. The lights are dimmed, enough to blur the boundaries between tile and mist.
