Hawke (Cold Fury Hockey 5)

Chapter 20

Vale

I'm not sure why I feel so buoyant all of a sudden.

Wait...yes I do know. It's amazing the metaphorical weight that can be lifted off your shoulders when you unburden a secret. Telling Hawke about the miscarriage and, more important, how bad that doctor made me feel about it, and even more important than that, how that drove my decisions...well, it was practically cathartic.

Hawke reacted exactly as I expected him to. The initial swell of grief for a life lost. Then the outburst of anger for not calling him. For not allowing him to be my man in all respects.

The horror over the doctor pinning the concept of fault on my young shoulders and his anger on my behalf that I bore that alone.

The revisited pain from my unilateral decision to cut him from my life because in a matter of just a few hours, I had gone from believing Hawke was the best thing for me to believing he was the worst.

Then he reacted in the way that defines the true essence of the man known as Hawke Therrien.

He comforted me.

Held me.

Told me none of this was my fault.

He accepted my reasoning, no matter how faulty it may have been at the tender age of twenty. He told me he understood and it was forgiven. I watched him cry tears for a baby that was never meant to be for us, the man wallowing in his own pool of grief, and yet he was most concerned about making sure I was okay.

Hawke told me he wanted to move forward, whatever that may mean.

He absolved me and was ready for us to give this another shot. The minute he gave me that cheesy grin, stuck his hand out for me to shake, and said, "Hi. My name is Hawke. Nice to meet you," I made the immediate and absolute decision that I wasn't going to bring any more hurt down upon either of us. I decided in that moment that I was letting all of my hurt go, just the way he was.

That meant I was not going to throw in his face and start an argument about his own abandonment of me after I reached out to him via phone and email. I couldn't do that to him, not after I just dropped on his shoulders a baby created of love never meant to be and watched him reel from the misery of unfairness that he was just learning about. I just didn't have it in me to dredge up more crap that only served to rake against us like barbed wire.

He said it was time to go forward, and thus I jumped on that progressive train.

I decided it was time to leave the past behind me.

Knowing Hawke the way I do, I was well aware that it wouldn't do any good to put my clothes on. He said he wasn't done with me, and that meant we'd remain naked until the next morning. So I grabbed another towel out of a small pantry closet that sat to the left of his vanity and wrapped it around me, securing the end into the top just between my breasts.

Dying of thirst and a little hungry, I headed down the stairs toward his kitchen, intent on finding something to alleviate both needs. Three steps from the bottom, I call out, "I'm starving, Hawke. I'm raiding your fridge, okay?"

He doesn't answer me, and as I reach the bottom landing, my body turns left to the living room rather than right toward the kitchen. Just as I round the wall separating the staircase from the living room, where the entryway sits on the other side, I'm struck stupid by Hawke standing there in his towel, with another woman.

With her fingers in the edge of the towel.

And a sexy look on her face.

And Hawke making no move to dislodge said fingers or wipe said look off her face.

Tall, lithe, silky auburn hair, and creamy smooth skin. She's gorgeous and she's staring at Hawke and he's staring at her, and I just hate her. And I'm not feeling too kindly toward him either.

We all have bodily reactions that come at embarrassing times. We don't want these things to happen, but our bodies betray us. It could be the often amusing but sometimes awkward situation of a gurgling belch after drinking something fizzy to the completely dreaded sound of flatulence from an upset tummy. Hawke and I've seen pretty much everything there is with each other, but I guarantee you he has never heard the sound that involuntarily rises out of me.

Like a screaming eagle. Or maybe a banshee. Definitely something full of outrage and hurt, I make a screeching sound that I had no idea existed. Hawke turns to me with a shocked look on his face. The woman's hand drops away from his waist and her jaw hangs wide open to see me standing there.

"Move forward my ass," I screech again, and it's so loud and abrasive my own teeth hurt from it. I spin away and head for the stairs, intent on dressing and getting the hell out of here.

But Hawke's words stop me dead cold. "Don't move another step, Vale, or so help me God, I will chase you down."

Indecision rules, and even though I cast a glance back over my shoulder, I take a half a step toward the staircase. Hawke's eyes narrow at me and he warns, "Go ahead, Vale. Make a break for it, but I will catch you, and you'll end up right back down here, so you might as well just stay put."

"You've got a lot of nerve--" I start to hiss at him, but he catches me off guard.

Scratching his hand through his hair and shooting me a sheepish look, he says, "Vale. This is Michelle. We sort of see each other casually when our schedules allow."

He's introducing me to her?

He's fucking introducing me to his piece of tail he keeps on the side?

"And what?" I ask with a sneer, my eyes never leaving his. "You thought you'd have both of us tonight?"

Hawke ignores me and turns to Michelle. He gives her an apologetic look, which causes my rage to go nuclear. "Michelle. This is Vale."

He says this while pointing toward me, almost as an afterthought.

"Hi," Michelle says with a conciliatory smile, giving me an awkward wave from the other side of Hawke. I want to gouge her eyes out, but she'll have to stand in line; I'd like to get a crack at Hawke's first.

Then Michelle spins toward Hawke, her eyes going wide. "Wait a minute...did you say Vale? As in the Vale?"

Her voice is awestruck, as if she's witnessing a miracle. Hawke nods with a slight smile.

She knows about me?

I mean...how?

No way Hawke would ever tell another woman about what we had, and more important, how I destroyed it. His ego would never let him share that.

"Well, this was terrible timing," Michelle says with a short laugh, and Hawke actually chuckles.

I'm back to wanting to gouge their eyes out.

"What are you doing here?" Hawke asks with his head tilted.

"Just thought I'd surprise you. You said last week you were up for some company and I got a few days off."

"Come on in," Hawke says as he pulls the door open even farther and motions for Michelle to cross his thre

shold.

This is the last straw for me. No way in hell is he going to have me, tell me he wants to move forward, and have a piece on the side to fill in the gaps. And I'm most certainly not going to stand here and watch this happen.

As I spin for the stairs, I immediately start believing in my heart that Hawke is doing this to punish me. While he says things are forgiven and that we only have the future ahead, that can't be true based on the way he just invited her in. How she felt comfortable enough to come here and surprise him.

I make it halfway up the stairs when I hear Hawke say something like, "Just have a seat. I'll be back down."

I hasten my pace, bounding up the stairs quicker, hearing Hawke come after me. I jet down the hallway, make it through his bedroom door, and turn to slam it in his face, hopefully with engagement of the lock to keep him out.

Except the minute I start shutting the door, he's there with his shoulder pushing it in on me. I give up on the thought of keeping him out while I gather my clothes and my dignity, and immediately turn toward the bathroom to get my underwear, bra, and T-shirt that were discarded there.

Said intention is completely foiled with his arm around my waist, one large stride to the bed, and a toss of my body onto it unceremoniously. The towel comes loose and I squawk again in outrage as I grab the ends and try to pull them over me for some modesty.

Hawke doesn't care. He's not looking at my body or my feeble attempts to get the towel wrapped back around me, instead advancing my way. In just moments, his big body is over mine, straddling me where he sits his full weight down on my pelvis, effectively pinning me to the mattress. Both his powerful thighs rest alongside my ribs and the towel around his waist opens up over his left thigh, threatening to reveal more to me.

Ordinarily, this would be a mouthwatering temptation. Now I want to nut punch him, so he'd be wise to keep the towel as is.

"What in the hell is your problem?" he asks me incredulously.

"Isn't it kind of obvious?" I level a death glare at him.

"All evidence to the contrary, it's actually not obvious to me," he says with what sounds like honest confusion.

"Well, let's see...maybe that another woman showed up at your house with the intention of having sex with you while I was still here," I grit out with fury.

Hawke shakes his head as if what I said saddens him. He looks at me with almost pitying eyes. "Poor Vale," he practically coos at me, and it's not done in a comforting manner.