“I didn’t know how many trick-or-treaters we’d get in this apartment complex,” I point out about my tactical decision. “I didn’t want to be caught short and have to hand out protein bars. Plus, bonus, we get the leftovers.”
Hawke chuckles and awkwardly unwraps the Snickers. Awkward because my head is resting on his left bicep, which is tucked under me. He brings the Snickers to just in front of my face, where he manages to unwrap it. He holds the naked little candy bar in front of my mouth and teases, “Want a bite?”
I shake my head.
He waves it under my nose and the chocolate aroma changes my mind. “Okay, a little bite.”
He feeds it to me, letting me take half of the tiny bar, and puts the rest in his mouth. We chew silently, watching the movie.
I was kind of surprised that Hawke wanted to come hang here for Halloween. I mean, he lives in a gorgeous neighborhood and would probably have a ton of visitors. I didn’t think he’d be into it, but it was his suggestion we hand out treats from my apartment. I wasn’t quite sure why he suggested this, but in hindsight, I think it’s because he knew his presence would mean more to the socioeconomic level of people that live in my complex versus his neighborhood. While not every person to ring the doorbell was a hockey fan, more were than not. It was hilarious to see some of the kids freak out when they saw him, and more than one parent did the same. Hawke got really into it, although he didn’t have a costume. He did, however, have a huge sombrero he wore on his head and where he put some of the candy. He’d bend down and let the little kids take the candy from his hat. Dad and I just sat back and watched, highly entertained over how much he was enjoying this.
I was more than highly entertained, though. My heart purely throbbed with adoration of what he was doing, dredging up a ton of emotion within me. This is not new or odd, because I’ve been in a constantly swirling pool of emotion since Hawke came back into my life.
Forty-two days ago, I saw him in the team meeting room on the first day of training camp. My heart ached all over again for everything lost.
Twenty-eight days ago I broke up with Todd. My heart ached for that too, but it also thumped in acute awareness of Hawke and what it meant that he was back in my life.
Twenty-five days ago, my dad had a seizure and Hawke was there to support me. I felt part of my heart succumb to him right then and there, while the other part remained reserved and cautious. We still had too many secrets between us.
Twenty-one days ago, he made love to me and I told him the truth of why I had cut him out of my life. I watched him weep for a loss that was new and raw while I had had years to cope. I received his understanding and forgiveness. He let go of his hurt, and I decided to let go of mine. At that time, my heart threw caution to the wind and became enslaved to him once more. In just three short weeks, it belonged to the only man who should have it. This was despite Michelle surprising us that night, which is something we ultimately ended up laughing about, and Hawke was right…she was cool. But it was also made clear to her that he had no more place in her life. I was back and intending to stay.
“Let me stay,” Hawke whispers in my ear as his hand moves from my hip to my belly.
What? Huh?
His hand snakes under my T-shirt, skims his fingers in such a way over my skin that a wake of prickly bumps remains behind. Sliding farther upward, his hand reaches for and cups my breast, squeezing gently. His lips brush my ear, and he asks again, “Please, Vale. Let me stay the night.”
I shake my head in denial, because it would be just too weird him sleeping here with my father across the hall. And if we were just sleeping, fine, he can stay. But I know Hawke. I know me. We wouldn’t be just sleeping. We’d be all over and up in each other, and that gets noisy. We’re a noisy couple. Always have been. I’d die if my dad heard that.
“Come on, baby,” he implores, his hand now moving south. He bypasses the waistband of my jeans, ignores the button and zipper, and goes straight in between my legs, grinding his palm against me.
“Oh, God,” I whisper out on a long exhale of breath.
He chuckles, bites my earlobe, and grinds again. “See…you want me to stay. You want this.”
Oh, holy hell did I want it!
But my hand went to his, grabbed his wrist, and halted his actions. “I do want it, but not here. My dad will hear us.”
“We can be quiet,” he cajoles, but keeps his hand still.
“There’s no way we can be quiet,” I tell him firmly. “You know that. You know it gets loud. I can’t help but scream when you make me come.”
My words pour out quickly and with a near-panicked tinge at the thought of my dad listening to us. I mean, realistically, I’m an adult and I can certainly have sex with Hawke without an ounce of shame, but ewww…just no. I can’t do it with my dad in the apartment.