Chapter 13
BECCA
"You looked like 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 wanting more.
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.
"Then I'd have to kiss it better," he said.
Oh, crap. Now I was tempted to fall for real.
"I might even let you." I couldn't meet his eyes. I quickly pressed the button for the lights and waited. Apart from that one car, there was little traffic around at the moment, but crossing the road safely was a habit.
"Are you feeling daring?" Hawk asked.
"I don't know, why?" I turned to him, and his eyes gleamed with mischief.
This was gonna be amazing, or traumatizing.
Without another word, he pulled my hand and we ran across the road, which was totally empty of cars. We reached the other side as the little red hand turned green.
"I didn't realise you were such a daredevil," I said with a laugh.
"I'm a risk taker from way back." He grinned. "There's nothing scarier than jaywalking on an empty street."
I shook my head at him. "Jaywalking is the gateway drug to all sorts of things, you know."
"It is? Like what?" He cocked his head at me.
"Trying grapes at the grocery store." I managed to keep a straight face. "Placing banana peels here and there for people to slip on. And the worst of all…" I paused for dramatic effect. "Stepping on cracks on the sidewalk."
He clutched his chest and gasped dramatically. "Why did no one tell me? I'm doomed to a lifetime of crack-stepping."
I nodded, my face still serious. "Once you've started down that path, it's almost impossible to go back. I can see the headlines now."
I put a hand up in front of me and sketched a line in the air.
"Hawk Florence's crack problem. Humpbacks quarterback and his un-a-peeling addiction."
"Florence facing time for stealing from the vine," Hawk added.
I laughed. "You're good at this."
He chuckled. "Yours are better. The serious question here is, what do I do to keep from falling down that crack?"
"Years of intensive therapy, I would think," I said.
"We could all use a bit of that." He seemed to be thinking of something in particular.
"Five cents for your thoughts," I offered. Since inflation, I didn’t think a penny covered the cost of thoughts anymore..
He hesitated, and I didn't think he was going to answer at first.
Finally, he said, "I wanted to explain something. Back in high school, it wasn't just my ego. When I, you know…" His throat bobbed up and down.
"Laughed at me?"
"Yeah. My family was going through some stuff." He sighed through his nose. "Mom was diagnosed with cancer."
"Oh." My heart broke a little for him. In that moment, reflected in the streetlights, he looked like a lost boy. Much as he had back then.
I spoke softly. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
"We kept it to ourselves," he said. "I didn't deal with it very well. That's kinda why I did what I did. I felt… powerless."
"Wow," I whispered. "I've been so self absorbed about it ever since. It didn't even occur to me there was a good reason for it." I never considered I wasn't the only person in the universe that might be going through things. Teenage arrogance.
"Is she…" I couldn't finish the sentence. The nearly emotionless look in his eyes answered it for me.
"She lost her battle the year I finished university," he said. "Didn't even see me graduate." He swallowed audibly. His face and voice then filled with emotion, so palpable I could almost reach out and touch it. He didn’t let the tears fall, but they glittered in his eyes like diamonds of pain.
My heart ached for him. "She would be proud," I said softly.
"Yeah." He looked down at the sidewalk.
No wonder he was so cut up about Lori Franks. Not just because he cared, but because of the memories of his mother. It must be digging up a lot of hurt. A lot of trauma.
"It must have been difficult," I said. "If I'd known, I would have tried to be there for you."
"I wouldn't have let you," he said, his tone blunt. "I pushed everyone away. I was supposed to be this big jock; tough, invincible. I didn't want to cry in front of anyone. I would have looked wimpy."
"You would have looked human," I said, equally blunt. "Everyone needs a shoulder every now and again. Even big, tough, badasses."
He sniffed, then cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I wanted you to know, so you can understand why I pushed you away. I could have been nicer about it, but…"
"I get it," I said. I finally did. I wished I knew sooner, even if there was nothing I could have done. "I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could confide in anyone."
"If I'd told anyone, it would have been you," he said. Something in his tone made my heart flip.
"It would have?" I held my breath, waiting for him to speak again.
"Yeah. I was more myself with you than I was with anyone. You let me be myself, no expectations. If I hadn't been such an egomaniacal, dick, macho man, I would have asked you out."
"Yeah, well, you had a reputation to think about.
" The last seven years melted away and any trace of anger I'd clung to went with it.
Things could have been different, but the time apart made us who we were.
The fact we found each other again felt like fate twisting us around her pinky finger. I didn't object a bit.
Of all the people who could have gotten the interview with Hawk, it was me. Of all the teams in the world Hawk could have joined, it was the one where I lived. And how could I stay mad at a boy mourning his mother while she passed, likely slow and painful?
"The shit thing is," he said, "I still do."
For a moment I freaked out, my heart leaping into my throat, wondering what he was getting at. Did he want to end this…whatever this was, before it even began?