13
BECCA
"You lookedlike you had a good time tonight," Hawk said as we walked down Beach Street.
He'd been quiet for the last few minutes. When he spoke, he took me by surprise.
"I did," I said eventually. "Your friends are a lot of fun." They razzed each other mercilessly, but no one meant any harm by it. Grace would have enjoyed their company too.
None of them had a bad word to say about Hawk either. Around them, he was more relaxed than I'd seen him. I sensed that was the real him. The guy behind the football star. The more I saw, the more I liked.
"Just my friends?" he asked with a smile. He slipped his hand into mine and I didn't pull away.
"Not just them," I said softly. "I like spending time with you." I looked over at him and missed the end of the sidewalk. I stepped onto the road and stumbled.
Hawk tugged my hand and kept me on my feet before he pulled me to him. I found myself pressed against his hard chest, skin warm even through our clothes.
"Are you okay?" he said, his nose only a couple of centimetres from mine.
"Um." I blushed. "Yes, I'm fine." Oh, god, the sandalwood scent of him was like a drug. It went right to my head, then down to my core. My knees turned into rubber, and it had nothing to do with almost falling and making a fool of myself. For the first time in hours, he wasn't laughing. His eyes were locked on mine. I swore I saw flashes of fire inside their depths.
I blinked as they turned green. Oh. I was seeing the reflection of traffic lights. How many beers did I have, or was it just him making my brain mush? Still, the look he gave me was heated.
My tongue darted over my lips. "We should, um, keep walking."
"Right. Yes." He made no move to step away. It was late enough where there weren’t people bustling around us, making us continue on our way.
The only part of me that moved was my heart, which raced at the speed of a freight train. No, one of those super-speed magnetic trains. The kind that got from coast to coast in an hour, or something.
Jeez, even my thoughts were babbling. There was only one time my mind did that—when I was drunk. Oh wait, two times. The other is when I was falling for someone.
Heaven help me, I was falling for him, hard.
Maybe I already had, and only the bitterness of the past prevented me from seeing it until right this moment.
His breath ghosted over my lips, coffee wafting from him. Maybe a hint of pickles. He'd eaten mine. Didn't that mean we were meant for each other, or was that just an internet meme? Maybe both. What could be better than a guy who took the slimy things off my plate? He was a fucking hero.
There I went, babbling to myself again.Shut up, brain.
That stopped when he pressed his lips to mine. Every thought went right out of my head, leaving behind nothing but how he felt and tasted. And how that small kiss left me wantingmore. His lips were soft, he tasted like coffee. The sandalwood scent wrapped around me the same time as his other arm did, and the only reason I remained upright was because he held me there, still pressed so close to him, his muscles pressed against my body.
He opened my mouth with his, just a little, enough to taste me more. When our tongues met in the slightest brush, I saw fireworks behind my eyes.
He drew back, then, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. It seems I wasn’t the only one affected by the kiss. His eyes darted to my kiss-swollen lips, I thought he might do it again, when a car drove past.
The driver beeped their horn and someone inside shouted, "Get a room!" before they drove off in gales of laughter.
"Uh, well, that was awkward," Hawk said. He stepped back now, but kept hold of my hand. I missed his warmth surrounding me. "I guess we should keep walking."
"Right. We're not far from my place. I can call you a cab from there." Or let him stay.
Oh shit, what was I thinking?
"Watch out for the sidewalk," he teased.
There was no tension, not like I’d have expected after that kiss. Walking with him, him teasing me, was as comfortable as a pair of flannel pajamas. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but I didn’t want to bring up the bet, or make this good feeling stop.
I snorted a laugh. "Oh no, I thought I might fall on my ass again," I said sarcastically.
