Page 14 of Home Ice

“Why?”

“Because who else will pull out their phone and record the great Jensen Hawke being arrested and post it for all the world to see?” His glare bores into me even as I tap my chin like I’m thinking. “Oh, that’s right. The whole bar. Especially those guys over there who have worked out exactly who you are.”

Hawke grunts, goes to take another sip from his glass, and then snarls when he remembers it’s empty. “Like it could make the day any worse.”

“Well, it’s definitely not making a bad day better.”

“Neither is talking to you.”

Considering I wasn’t even sure I wanted to haul my ass out of bed for this guy, he should be annoying me more than he is. But even with him being an asshole, there’s something about his presence that’s reeling me in, the same way it always did when we were younger.

“Easy way to fix both those problems is to get in my car and let me drive you home.”

He mutters something I miss under his breath, but I’m not about to let that stop me. With hopes and courage as my only backup, I stand and loop my arm under his, the same way we’ve done for each other so many times before.

It’s a relief when he doesn’t fight me on it.

Derry sends me a tense nod as we stagger across the room, most of Hawke’s weight landing on me. He’s definitely bigger than I remember—either that or I’ve gotten weaker.

“Should have let me drown in beer,” he grumbles.

Not looking at him and only hearing his voice throws me back ten years, and I hate the regret that grips me. I was so sure I was over it and comfortable with my choices, but the way he’s made me question it multiple times in the one day is also making me regret driving out to pick him up. “I’ll remind myself of that next time.”

The heat from inside disappears as we step outside, and I do my best to get him across the parking lot. We reach my car, and I hit the unlock button on my fob as I struggle to open the passenger door with Hawke sagging against me.

“Get in.”

“Just dump me on the side of the road.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why? You’ve never had a problem dumping me before.”

I have to physically bite my tongue to stop from telling him the entire reason. One, because the whole thing happened so long ago that there’s no point now, and two, because he’s drunk as fuck. And maybe the drunk thing is exactly why I shouldn’t ask my next question, but it comes out before I can stop it. “Since when are you this lost and depressed? Does it have something to do with Kasen?”

Like an electrical current has blasted through Hawke, he grabs the front of my shirt, turns us, and shoves me up against my car. “You knew?”

The twisted anger on his face makes me think he actually might hit me. “Of course I fucking didn’t.”

He doesn’t back down.

“But I had my suspicions. Last year. When he joined my team.”

Hawke is breathing heavily through his teeth, but his hazel eyes meet mine for the first time. His gaze is unfocused, but a long moment stretches between us.

“He looks just like you,” I push.

Hawke shoves back from me and tries to stagger away, but I grab him before he can.

“Just get in the fucking car.”

“What’s the point?” he moans, but he doesn’t fight me as I steer him closer.

He all but falls into the seat, and I nudge his legs inside the car with my foot before I can close the door behind him. I don’t even know if he’s still conscious, but I take a minute to breathe in the smell of trees—and catch a hint of the dumpster sitting beside the bar—and then round my car to climb in too.

His cologne, woodsy and sharp, is already filling the space, and when I glance over at him, he’s staring blankly out the front windshield.

“You still alive?” I ask.