Chapter Five
Amelia
He bought me a ring.
Not some cheap prop to sell the idea that we’re engaged, though it isn’t anything expensive either. He bought it in a rush, but it’s still a beautiful ring with an emerald-cut diamond that sparkles when I put it against the light.
It’s not ostentatious, but it certainly caught the attention of my fellow orchestra members once I started wearing it. I’ve never been spotted with a man before, so of course people would question why I suddenly have a ring on my finger.
But I can’t exactly tell them it’s a fake engagement to help my hot neighbor gain custody of his daughter.
A part of me—the part that has felt the man’s mouth explore every inch of my body for days—doesn’t want to admit that all this is fake. That a man could get a woman an expensive diamond ring and not really mean it. But that is exactly what this is—a lie.
I glance at Hawk’s door and realize I’ve been spending an awful lot of time in his apartment rather than in mine.
Instead of spending time rehearsing for the audition, I spend all evening playing for Wren or keeping her and her daddy company.
Sometimes I share dinner and breakfast with them.
Then I spend all day thinking about them and smiling to myself.
Even Darla’s bullying doesn’t get to me as much as it used to.
Not when her insults and glares merely bounce off me.
I’ve even started to leave my grandfather’s old violin in Hawk’s apartment rather than mine, so I’ll always have it ready to give Wren a midnight concert.
It seems my entire life has been turned upside down, but I can’t find it in me to complain.
Christ, I can’t tell who I’m trying to fool at this point. The caseworker or myself. Heck, even I am starting to buy into the lie, seeing how I don’t make a pit stop at my own apartment to change but come directly to Hawk’s place.
I raise my hand to knock when the ring catches in the light, sparking like a beacon, and I stop to stare at it.
Five days.
That’s how long this thing between us has been going on.
The heavy petting and kissing. The cunnilingus on every surface of the man’s apartment.
The world-shattering orgasms. Whenever Wren takes a nap, it’s my turn to be taken care of, and perhaps that would be perfect if only Hawk would let me touch him in return.
The door suddenly opens to reveal the man who’s capable of wiping thoughts from my brain by merely existing.
“Hey there, neighbor,” he says with a wicked grin that sends my heart fluttering in my chest. I despise the heat that climbs up my cheeks. Christ, what am I, twelve? “What are you doing standing out here? I gave you a spare key to the place.”
One that still doesn’t feel right to use.
“I…I guess I just got lost in thought.”
He arches a single dark brow. “What about?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe and tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
My eyes shift from that handsome face to the muscles in those arms. The same arms that held me close last night when we fell asleep on the couch together. “Amelia?”
“I have an audition coming up for the first-chair spot,” I say, brushing hair behind my ear so I have something to do with my fingers. “I guess it has me on edge a bit.”
“Well, I can help you with that,” he says, reaching out and grabbing my waist to tug me against him.
That firm chest is pressed against my tits and then his mouth is drawing mine in a slow kiss that sends my toes curling and my sex pulsing with need.
My fingers clench on his shirt and I feel the tension in my body fall as desire settles in.
I push up for more when a piercing cry tears through the air.
We both pull back with a laugh, and turn to look inside.
“I guess you’re not the only one who missed me,” I tease, smiling when he takes my hand and pulls me inside.
Wren is in her bassinet crying her little heart out, so I rush to the bathroom to wash my hands before taking her from Hawk, smiling when she calms down in my arms.
“She hates being down for more than a couple minutes,” Hawk says, watching us with a strange look on his face. “You like her.”
“And she likes me too,” I say, giving the newborn my index finger, which she grabs. “Isn’t that right, my adorable little songbird?”
“Songbird?”
“That’s what a wren is. A little songbird,” I say, placing the pacifier between her lips when a thought strikes me. “Wait a minute, what’s up with your family and bird names? First Hawk, and now Wren?”
“Call it a happy coincidence.” He chuckles, and with a shake of his head, starts for the kitchen. “How do you feel about steak for dinner?”
“Love it.”
I follow him into the kitchen and we fall into the easy routine we’ve had these last couple of days.
I hold and feed the baby while he makes us dinner, and later we sit in his dining room like a proper family, chatting about nothing and everything as we take turns holding the baby.
After dinner, I play the violin for Wren who, depending on her mood, either falls asleep immediately or settles in to listen to the music for a while.
Tonight, she falls asleep before I’m done with the first song, and when I leave the nursery, it’s to find Hawk cleaning up the kitchen.
He looks so handsome. I want so badly to touch him the way he touches me, but I know what will happen if I approach him.
He’ll kiss me, lift me onto the counter, and then kiss my body, but… I want more.
The one thing he keeps from me.
A part of me thinks that he’s worried about taking the next step and getting me pregnant, but I’ve seen the condoms he keeps in the bathroom so that can’t be it.
Or maybe…maybe he just doesn’t want me to touch him.
Maybe this thing he does to me is his way of showing his gratitude for the role I’m playing.
His fake fiancée.
I glance down at the ring again. Christ, it’s messing with my mind.
“Amelia?” I look up to find him watching me with a puzzled look on his face. “Is everything alright?”
“Why don’t you want me?”
He blinks at me as if he isn’t quite sure he heard what he thinks he did. “What?”
I turn away, suddenly terrified of getting an answer from him. What if he confirms my fears and says everything he does is out of some stupid, misplaced sense of gratitude and not genuine desire?
“Nothing,” I say, tempted to leave and spend the night in my own place for the first time in days, but Hawk takes my hand before I can consider the option and turns me to look at him.
“Talk to me, angel,” he rasps, rubbing his thumb over my wrist. “What do you mean, I don’t want you?”
“Nothing, forget I said anything—”
“Why do you think I don’t want you, Amelia?”
“You won’t let me touch you,” I snap, surprising us both. “I…I don’t know how long something like this is supposed to go on before people finally have sex but every time I try to touch you or hint at more, you just…close me out.” I huff, brushing my hair from my face.
The surprise on his face from my outburst turns softer, almost fond. “You are so beautiful it drives me fucking insane.”
“And you are deflecting with compliments as you always do.”
He chuckles. “You’re not someone I met at some downtown bar, Amelia,” he says, walking us to the couch.
He drops onto the sofa and pulls me down on his lap.
“The goal here is not to get into your pants and then just disappear. I care about you.” He cups my jaw and turns my eyes to his.
“I like you enough to want to take it slow with you. I didn’t want you to feel pressured or rush into something you weren’t prepared for. ”
“I’ve been prepared for a year,” I blurt out, my brain-to-mouth filter practically nonexistent. “Ever since I first ran into you in the hallway.”
“Is that so?” Heat is lighting up those blue eyes now, and he pulls me closer to him on his lap.
I flush but don’t pull away. “I don’t want to wait any longer,” I say, my heart racing as I lean forward to touch my mouth to his. “I want your hands on me and I want mine on you. Please let me try to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
“Amelia—”
“I want this,” I say, bravely dropping my palm between us and tracing it down his chest to the bulge in his sweatpants. He groans when I touch his erection, his hips pressing against my hand. “You want me too, right?”
“Desperately, but, baby—”
I push into the kiss, sliding my curious fingers under his shirt and touching that muscular body I’ve longed to feel under my fingertips. He groans against my mouth, and instead of creating the distance I’m used to receiving when things turn heated, this time he pulls me closer.
The kiss, which starts off soft and gentle, quickly turns urgent as I push into him, panting hard against him, almost as if I want to climb into his skin. He hisses when my nail accidentally grazes his nipple, so I do it again to get a reaction from him.
“You’re killing me, angel.”
“It’s like I have all this excess need bottled up,” I whine when he pulls back. “You’re not going to stop me, are you?”
“Baby—”
“It’s my turn,” I say, scrambling to get off his lap.
There’s surprise in his eyes when I drop to my knees between his legs, but I don’t allow myself to overthink the moment or get all shy about it.
I reach for the waistband of his sweats, but he grabs my hand before I can tug them down.
I read the lust and heat in his eyes, but there is also… concern.
“Amelia, are you sure about this?”
Then it clicks.
All that talk about taking it slow…was because he knows I’ve never been with a man before. It’s as touching as it is mortifying, but hell, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m twenty-two, for Christ’s sake. I shouldn’t be embarrassed by how long it’s taken me to get to this point, but…I am.