Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I try to shake it off. I’m not one to reflect or beat myself up about things I don’t have or where I think I should be at this point in my life. I love my life, the end.
The front door opens, and I know it’s Ford before I see him. Only he and Hope have access to our apartment, apart from our parents. He walks in, biting into a muffin, and I narrow my gaze. “That better not be the last blueberry muffin Billie baked.”
“What my girlfriend bakes is only ever for me,” he grumbles.
“Please. I was here before your dick was, and—” My words fall off as Hawke saunters in behind him. You’ve got to be kidding me. Hawke whistles as he scans the room.
“Damn. Nice place you girls have. Why haven’t we had some parties here?” His gaze slides to me, and he smirks.
“Do they just let any stray walk in from the street now?” I ask Billie as she stands. She laughs as she walks over to Ford and kisses him.
“Hey, I’m here to help with all of this. I’m better than any moving company. Got a van and everything,” Hawke announces as the other two leave, Billie explaining to Ford what has to go in the first load. I still don’t understand why she didn’t hire professionals, but she said Ford seemed excited to help.
Hawke offers a hand to help me up, but I uncross my legs and stand on my own. “You can’t be serious. Seriously? A van?”
He seems proud of himself as he points to the window. I can imagine this big asshole driving a van. I can’t help but peer outside and laugh. Yep, there’s a fucking van. I feel him come up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me against him.
“Where’s your room, Ivy?” His breath is hot on my neck.
“Where’s your sweetheart, Hawke?” I bite back. I can feel his semi-hard cock against the small of my back.
“You always dress like this at home? I should’ve come around sooner. I’m digging the pink booty shorts and crop top.”
“No.” I turn and shove at his chest. “I’m not usually wearing anything. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to finish,” I say as I head for the door.
“You think you’ve got the upper hand after fleeing the club early last night?” he asks from behind me, and I can’t help but glance over my shoulder and smirk, looking pointedly at his semi-hard cock. I purposely bend over slightly, giving him a glimpse of the bottom of my ass.
“I don’t need an upper hand, Hawke. You want what you can’t have. Now, pick up your chin; you’re drooling.” I slip into the hallway, my smile growing and my hips swaying on the way back to my room.
I don’t leave my room again, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t barge in to bother me further. I’m entertained when I raise my blinds ever so slowly to watch him and Ford carry boxes and furniture to the van. It makes them look so domesticated when I know they’re anything but. These men are dangerous.
Hawke is dangerous. Yet anyone not paying close enough attention might think he’s just a manwhore with the energy of a Labrador.
He’s been a little off lately, and I don’t know why, but I think it might have something to do with Ford and everything that went down with the poisoning. But I haven’t asked because it’s not how Hawke and I are. We don’t have deep conversations. More precisely, we can’t converse without sniping at one another or trying to rile one another up.
Like he can feel me watching him, Hawke looks up, his eyes landing directly on me, and he smiles. I slip back into the darkness of my room. I prefer to work in the dark with my multiple screens. But right now, it makes me feel like I’m hiding from him. It doesn’t make me any less curious about the asshole and what he gets up to in his spare time when he’s not being so… Hawke. I wonder if he has deeper layers. Or is this arrogant, cocky prick all that he is?
It grates on me that I’m curious because once something’s grabbed my attention, I can’t help but drill down until I get to the bottom of it. Whatever this thing between Hawke and me is, I’ve purposely avoided looking into it for years because I know nothing good will come of it.
Except, of course, orgasms. Which, in my opinion, is never a bad thing. But since our one and only time together, I’ve always held myself back, uncertain as to why and unwilling to explore it further.
I upload the task for my job and then decide to get dressed. Once they have it, I should receive payment, and I suddenly feel like I need to go on a shopping spree. There’s nothing better than a woman with her own paycheck, purchasing all the brands she loves.