“Yeah…sure. Just need to use the bathroom. I don’t handle beer as well as I used to.”
And the minute those words pop out of my mouth, I realize I really need to use the bathroom. I squeeze my legs together involuntarily.
Hawke gives a chuckle, takes my hand, and pulls me away from the line. “Come on. You can use the one in my room.”
My body instantly rebels, pulling back against him. “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.”
Hawke doesn’t even look at me, but tugs me along behind him. Past the line of people waiting and right up the staircase. I try one more time to pull away, but the pressure in my bladder increases at the thought of a toilet nearby and I find myself trotting up the stairs in urgency.
He turns right at the top and down a hallway to the end, where he opens the door to what must be the master bedroom.
I take a quick survey, see packing boxes all over the floor. His bed is devoid of sheets and just has a few pillows and a blanket on top.
“Still unpacking?” I ask.
“Yup. But this is the last room,” he says as he releases my hand. He nods over my shoulder with a pointed look. “Bathroom’s in there.”
I gratefully spin away from him and practically waddle my way in, not failing to hear the soft chuckle from Hawke that causes my belly to flip. I shut the door firmly behind me, twist the lock, and then lean back against it for a moment.
The skin on the palm of my hand still tingles from where we were touching and my heart is fluttering madly, taking the focus away from my bursting bladder.
Damn, Hawke. Why does he do this to me?
Chapter 9
Hawke
I know I should turn around and walk my ass back down the stairs. Rejoin the party. Drink another beer.
I’m already sporting a massive buzz, and the last thing I need to do is lose my head completely around Vale. Who sits just on the other side of the door—literally—with that flowing cotton skirt speckled with flowers probably hiked around her waist.
Fuck, but she’s different. The old Vale would have shown up at a party with ripped jeans hanging low on her hips, a bustier that came down to just above her navel with her tits spilling out, and those green eyes lined with heavy eyeliner. She screamed party. She always screamed sex.
But tonight, the simplicity of her skirt that hangs just at her knees, along with a white tank top and a lightweight yellow sweater, screams a different kind of sexy. It’s flirty…feminine. Something Vale always was, but it was always just so understated. Now she looks like she should be sitting down to afternoon tea rather than slamming beers at a Cold Fury party.
And yet I’m just as much, if not more, attracted to her in this getup that’s so very different from the woman I knew. It’s a more mature Vale…a softer woman. Still with that scared look in her eyes that I’ve become used to when she’s near me, and that is something I don’t like very much.
Don’t like the douche she showed up with either, but I have to say, they haven’t hung together much tonight. Instead, Vale nursed a beer and hovered near her father, while her boyfriend mingled. I walked by one conversation he was having with a puck bunny about veneers. Talk about lame.
I hear the toilet flush and I tell myself again…get the fuck gone.
Instead, I walk over to the door and prop my arms up on the door casing. I listen to water run, assume she’s washing her hands. I can imagine her possibly fluffing her hair while she looks in the mirror, possibly reapplying gloss to those perfectly full lips.
I nearly groan at the thought of those lips. The way they used to look as they slid up and down on my…
The doorknob turns and my fingers grip into the casing, holding steady rather than retreating. Vale’s head is down as she steps out, causing her to walk right into me. She bounces back slightly and I resist the urge to reach out and steady her.
She looks up at me standing there, hulking in the doorway, and her eyes flare wide with surprise.
“What are you doing?” she mutters.
“Making sure everything came out okay,” I tell her with a cheesy grin.
Her lips quirk up and she shakes her head. “That’s lame.”
I release my hold on the door casing and then lean one shoulder against it, crossing my arms over my chest. This doesn’t have me towering over her, but still blocks her exit. “You know what’s lame?” I ask her with a smirk.
“What’s that?” she asks, her head tilting to the side and her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Your boyfriend…Tad.”
She narrows her eyes at me and the smile slides from her face. “It’s Todd.”
“More like toad,” I counter.
“What are you like five years old or something?” she asks dryly.
Pushing off from my perch, I take a step into her. She takes a wary step back.
“Seriously…what do you see in that guy?” I ask her as I advance. She continues to walk backward, until her back comes up flat against the door to my shower.
“Todd’s a great guy,” she says firmly. “He’s kind…nice. Devoted.”