“That’s because I haven’t.”
“Exactly.”
I flipped the egg and pointed the spatula at him. “You’re incredibly annoying.”
“And you talk too much.”
“You’re just mad I’m not intimidated by you.”
That got his attention. Hawk’s eyes sharpened, the intensity in them making my heart race. “You’re not scared of me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“You should be.”
“Why?”
His voice lowered slightly. “Because everyone else is.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, most people probably don’t get escorted to the hospital by you after nearly getting assaulted.”
“That doesn’t make me a good person.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
I reached for my mug but shifted my wrist wrong, causing pain to shoot up my arm. “Shit.”
Hawk was beside me instantly. One second he was across the kitchen; the next, he was right there. His hand closed gently around my forearm, steadying it before I could pull away.
“Easy.”
His touch was surprisingly careful. Warm. Strong. His fingers adjusted the angle of my wrist slightly, and the pain eased almost immediately.
I looked up and realized how close he was. My shoulder brushed his chest, and his eyes were focused entirely on my cast. His thumb brushed lightly across the edge of the plaster, checking it, making sure it hadn’t shifted.
His jaw tightened slightly. “You’re not doing that again,” he said quietly.
I frowned. “Doing what?”
“Pretending it doesn’t hurt.”
Something about the way he said it made my stomach flip. He stepped back a second later, as if the moment hadn’t happened, as if he hadn’t just been standing close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath.
Finally, he grabbed his cut from the chair. “Lock your doors today.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His expression hardened. “The guy you punched.”
My stomach tightened. “What about him?”
Hawk pulled his cut over his shoulders, the leather creaking slightly as he moved. “He’s not just some drunk idiot.”
Something cold slid down my spine. “What does that mean?”
He paused in the doorway, his eyes flicking once more to the cast on my arm, then back to my face. “You picked a hell of a person to punch.”
