“I defended myself.”
“You embarrassed them.”
“He deserved it.”
Silence fell between us, heavy and thick.
Hawk muttered under his breath, “Jesus Christ.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
His eyes lifted again, locking onto mine. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”
“I’m aware.”
“And you’re not scared of me.”
“No.”
“You should be.”
I shrugged. “You made me dinner.”
His jaw tightened. “That doesn’t make me safe.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
He stared at me, like he was trying to figure out a problem he didn’t want to have. Then he muttered quietly, “You’re a fucking problem.”
“For you?”
“For me.”
“Well, good news.” I pushed my chair back. “You can leave.”
“Not happening.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“This is my house.”
“And those locks are mine.”
I stared at him, feeling the tension crackle in the air. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
“I was doing perfectly fine before you showed up.”
Hawk laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You think that?”
“Yes.”
