She scowls again.
Good God, does she look cute when she does that.
For some reason, the more she tries to pretend that whatever this is between us doesn’t exist, the more I want to prove to her that it does. Seeing that blaze inside of her ignite each time I nudge her is enough to keep me addicted to the burn of it.
Astrid waves us over to the table Bishop vacated, the big grin spread across her face enough to say that at least someone is happy to see me.
Even if it is the wrong woman.
“Your cousin is waving us to the table.”
Bishop glances over her shoulder. “Fuck.” The word rushes out on a heavy breath filled with the same annoyance as the look she gives me when she turns back. “Come on. But you’re leaving as soon as you get your drink.”
I release her arm and hold up my hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, Hellcat.”
She hisses. “Don’t call me that.”
Chuckling low, I follow her to the table, completely aware of how all the women seated there assess me the entire way. Their gazes sweep over me, from my boots up my jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket and over my hair that I’m sure is disheveled after wearing my helmet on the ride here.
Bishop reaches her seat and retakes it, leaving me standing facing an entire table of Hawke women. “Girls, this is Gage. Gage, these are my cousins. Allie, Kennedy, Jack, and you know Astrid. The one behind the counter making your drink is Allie’s sister, Angelina.”
I smile at all of them, meeting each of their inquisitive gazes, and watch as several try to fight a grin. “Nice to meet all of you, and to see you again, Astrid.”
Kennedy leans her elbows on the table, resting her face in her manicured hands, her bright red lips curled in a devious grin. “So, Gage, how do you know Bishop?”
Bishop tosses her a look that could kill—something I’m quite sure Kennedy has seen often given the way she completely ignores it.
“We met at the club.”
Jack snorts, eyeing me with cool calculation. “From what I hear, she kicked your ass.”
They share a laugh at my expense—all of them except Bishop, who looks ready to either slaughter them with her bare hands or slide under the table to hide.
Maybe both.
I run my hand through my hair and nod. “That she did. And I told her how impressive it was.”
Bishop’s back stiffens again, that guard of hers seated firmly in place.
Apparently, my compliment didn’t land the way I hoped it would.
She’s so on edge with me here that she can’t even relax enough to accept it for what it was.
Astrid nods. “I’m sure it was. You should see her in the ring. Are you going to come back to the gym?”
“I plan to. Hopefully in the next few days.” If Bishop doesn’t kill me first. “I’ll text your brother.”
She grins. “I’m sure he’d love to have you around more. Finding someone he can actually spar with has been difficult lately.”
I chuckle, remembering what it felt like to get struck by Atlas “The Hurricane” Hawke even when we weren’t going anywhere near all-out. “I bet. And I have the bruises to prove that even in sparring mode and not full strength, the man is dangerous.”
The Hawke women all nod their agreement, save for Bishop, who sits absolutely still, as if she’s holding her breath and just waiting for this to be over and for me to leave.
Allie watches me carefully. “So, other than kick your ass, what do you and my cousin do together?”
Kennedy almost chokes on her coffee with her sputtered laugh, and Bishop appears ready to leap across the table at both of her cousins when Angie arrives carrying my drink.
“Here you go, Gage. A black triple espresso.”
