“Are you saying you want to sleep with him?”
“Of course not. But you need to chill. I wouldn’t be going over there unless I was comfortable being around him. Besides, he probably won’t be around much anyway. He’s too busy working and fucking whatever he finds in a bar.”
Marie caught the bitterness in my voice. “So, he’s a manwhore?”
“That’s putting it lightly.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It sounds like that bothers you.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, it does sometimes. I just think he’s better than that.”
“Better?” she asked. “Guys like getting laid. He’s living the dream.”
“But he’s so miserable.” I shook my head. “I know he isn’t happy. It seems like he does it…just as a means to an end.”
She shrugged. “We all have needs. Look at me, I’m going out with Anthony for another week so I have somewhere to sleep.”
“Slut,” I mumbled under my breath.
She swatted my arm. “Coming from the girl about to spend the week with a fuck machine.”
“He’s not a fuck machine,” I said defensively. “He’s a lot more than that.”
“Touchy touchy…”
A knock on the door ended our conversation.
“Looks like your ride is here.” Marie opened the door and saw Hawke on the other side. He wore running shorts, a t-shirt, and his aviators. He looked beautiful…like always. “Hey.” Marie gave him a cold welcome.
“Hi.” He stepped inside and immediately moved to my side. Then he flexed his arms dramatically. “Your strong man is here to move your things.”
I grabbed his bicep and squeezed it playfully. It was solid like concrete. I tried to hide the dreamy look on my face. “Get to it. Everything is in my room.”
“Yes, Muffin Girl.” He squeezed my side playfully before he walked down the hallway. I stared at his toned ass in his shorts. It was so nice I wanted to take a bite out of it. I fantasized about seeing his naked body when I felt a hard stare burning into my skin.
Marie was giving me the stink-eye.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“Friends my ass.” She marched down the hallway into her bedroom then slammed the door.
She could be so dramatic.
Hawke walked past me carrying most of my things. I went into my bedroom then retrieved everything else. I didn’t need his help moving. I just needed transportation. My Volkswagen couldn’t fit everything I needed, but the bed of his truck could.
I made it outside then placed everything in the back.
“I’m surprised you could carry that.” He was looking at the box full of pots, pans, and baking containers.
“It’s not that heavy.”
“You’re lying.”
What did it matter? “I can carry my own shit. I don’t need you to help me. All I asked for was your truck.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa, Muffin. I was just trying to pay you a compliment.”
“You didn’t do it right, Bird Boy.”
Both of his eyebrows raised above his sunglasses. “What did you just call me?”
“Bird Boy.”
He still looked confused.
“Because your name is Hawke.”
He pressed his lips tightly together like he was trying not to laugh. “Good one.” He got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. When I reached the passenger side, the window was rolled down. “Follow me.”
I didn’t like being told what to do. It just rubbed me the wrong way. He didn’t command me to do anything but it still came off as bossy. “Fine.” I started to walk away.
“Muffin.”
I growled then returned to the window. “What?”
“You packed lots of panties, right? Because I want to see them on that beautiful ass of yours.” He had a cocky grin on his face, like he didn’t give a damn if I knew if he was joking or not.
“Go to hell.” I walked back to my car. I barely heard his final words over the sound of his engine.
“If you come with me.”
***
I fit most of my things in his room, and the extra stuff was moved to the hallway closet. His apartment wasn’t tiny, but it wasn’t made for more than two people.
He had leather sofas, a large TV, and a kitchen table. The place was pretty bare, but that’s what I expected from a guy who lived alone. His bedroom was fairly clean. I just hoped he washed the sheets before I came over. Who knows who was in there the night before.
I stirred the pot on the stove when Hawke came into the kitchen. He only had a towel around his waist because he just got out of the shower. He smelled clean and fresh. Water droplets glistened on his chest before they slid down.
I tried not to stare.
“What smells so good?” he asked as he stood beside me.
You. “Uh…masala sauce.” I kept my gaze focused on the pot.
“Hmm…what does it go on?”
“Chicken. It’s in the oven.”
He peeked through the glass and saw the chicken baking. Then he stood upright again. “You want to live here forever?” He said it with absolute seriousness.
I rolled my eyes. “So I can cook for you all the time?”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know the oven worked.”
“What do you eat around here?”
“Protein shakes, cereal, and sandwiches.”