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Hawk keeps portraying himself as my ally, only to give me whiplash with how quickly he turns on me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, but fool me three times, and shame on both of us. I can’t keep hoping Hawk will be anyone other than who he is. He’s not a savior. At least he’s not mine. He may not hate me the way Wilder does, but he’s not on my side, either. I have to toughen up and learn to stand on my own against these two devils in disguise, and that starts by not fucking kissing them.
Finally wrenching my eyes open, I groan against the bright light streaming around the edges of my curtains. I slowly push up onto my elbows, and when my stomach doesn’t climb its way up my throat, I swing my legs over the side of the bed while giving my head a second to stop spinning before standing up.
I take my time going through my morning routine before I venture downstairs, reminding myself that I did nothing all that embarrassing last night so I don’t need to hide from Hawk. At least this time he didn’t leave me legless on the bathroom floor after delivering the world’s most mind-rendering orgasm.
Stepping into the kitchen, my shoulders drop in relief when I find it empty, and I go about making a cup of coffee before taking a seat at the island. Even though I’m enjoying the peace and quiet, I can’t help wondering where everyone is. I hadn’t seen Kai again after we got home last night—at least, not that I can recall—and seeing as it’s a Saturday, Hawk should be around here somewhere, unless he’s already run off back to the frat house with Wilder.
I sigh, wishing there was some way to magically fix things with the two of them so that we can get over this awkwardness. With Wilder, it’s pure hatred, and no matter what I say, he doesn’t want to hear it. However, with Hawk, it’s so much more complicated. I don’t even know what is going on between us. All I know is that I enjoy the feel of his hands on me and the taste of his kisses on my lips. And I think we kinda get along. We had fun last night. I’m just not sure what any of it means. I’m trying not to look at any of it too closely. I have a tendency to psychoanalyze these things, and for once, I just want to see what happens rather than planning out every second. Besides, with some psycho out there threatening and killing every guy I date or sleep with, now probably isn’t the time to be thinking about how good Hawk tastes.
The sound of the front door banging shut startles me out of my thoughts, and butterflies take flight in my stomach when I hear Wilder’s voice.
“Yo! Did anybody order something?” he yells loud enough for everyone in the house to hear him. “I found this on our doorstep.”
His voice gets louder as he approaches the kitchen until he steps across the threshold, his eyes connecting with mine. His expression becomes carefully blank when he discovers me sitting there, and his eyes run briefly down my body before he glances away. “I see you’re still here.”
“Looks like it.” Faking nonchalance, I lift my coffee mug to my lips and take a sip, all the while watching him over the rim.
After what happened in the bathroom, I’m fucking done being nice to Wilder and feeling bad for invading his personal space. I didn’t ask for this, and despite how badly he may want me gone, I can’t fucking leave. I’m not even sure Iwantto leave. I hardly miss my old life. Yeah, I miss having a purpose and getting out of the house to go to work every day, but that’s about it. I don’t miss the girls from work I’d sometimes grab a drink with or curling up on my sofa in the evenings with a book and a glass of wine. Hell, I’ve barely even given Mel a passing thought, and other than Hadley, she’s my closest friend.
It makes me realize just how removed I was from my own life. It’s like I was playing a part in a play—going through the motions but never really engaging. I hadn’t realized just how numb I’d become until everything went sideways and I ended up here. It makes me angry that I let myself get that way—like my mother. Oblivious to the problems in my life and pretending that everything was fine by burying my head in work. I never let myself slow down long enough to actually assess the life I was creating for myself, but with very little to do these last few weeks, it has given me plenty of time to honestly think about it. To understand that the life I was living, while on paper it had everything I wanted, was missing the crucial aspects that make life enjoyable.
The only problem is that those crucial aspects thatmylife requires come in the form of two insufferable assholes—one who hates me and the other who enjoys messing with my head.
And let’s not get started on Kai, because without his constant presence these last couple of weeks, I’d be a curled-up mess in the corner, rocking back and forth and begging for all this to be a horrible nightmare. He’s the reason I haven’t completely fallen apart. The reason I even feel safe in this house—both with regards to my stalker and the two cavemen that live inside these walls.
“Shame. I was hoping your stalker might have found you by now.”
Ouch. His words hit their target, and based on the smirk that tilts his lips, he knows it.
I quickly wipe any trace of emotion from my face, and ensuring my tone is carefully neutral, say, “Why, so you could stop hiding out at the frat house?”
I watch as his hands tighten around the box he’s carrying and his jaw ticks in irritation, but he doesn’t immediately hit me with a comeback. Instead, he casually crosses over to the kitchen table and sets the box down on top of it before whirling to face me. Rage burns in his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he descends on me.
“Why the hell would I be hiding? From you?” His coinciding laugh is cold. “You must think pretty highly of yourself.” Leaning down, he presses his palms into the edge of the island on either side of me, bringing our faces within inches of one another. “Not everything is about you, Emilia. I’ve got plenty of girls on campus to keep me occupied. This is my senior year, after all. Gotta make the most of that easy pussy before graduation.”
It takes everything in me not to let him see the angry snarl threatening to lift my lips or the tightening of the muscle at the back of my jaw at the picture he’s painting. “So that’s why you nearly fucked me in the bathroom—because all thateasy pussyjust isn’t cutting it for you anymore?”
“I didnotnearly fuck you. I wastoyingwith you, ‘cause that’s all you fucking are to me—a toy.” His lips are so close to mine that spittle hits the corner of my mouth as he snarls.
Removing one hand from the island behind me, he lifts it up to my hair and begins winding it around his finger, stroking the soft strands with his thumb. The anger slowly falls from his face as his gaze shifts to where he’s playing with my hair, before a wicked smirk that makes my heart skip a step replaces it. “How many times have you tried to get yourself off, picturing my dick sliding into that sopping wet cunt of yours?Please, Wilder,” he mimics in a high-pitched voice before laughing cruelly. “So fucking desperate for me, aren’t you, Angel? You don’t even care that I hate you, you still want what you’ll never get.”
My thighs clench on reflex, and Wilder catches the subtle action, glancing down to my apex as though he’s got x-ray vision that can penetrate through the layers of clothing. “You’re wet right now, aren’t you? Despite how I left you—turned on and begging for me—you still fucking want me.” Another cruel laugh, but I see through his act. He can’t hide the dilatation of his pupils, and when I squirm in my chair, his nostrils flare with primal hunger. “Tell me,” he growls, his voice dipping an octave. “How many times did you make yourself come after I left you on that bathroom floor?”
Although my nipples are chafing against the fabric of my top, and I know he can tell how turned on I am, I’m proud of the way I lift my chin to meet his eyes head-on. “None.”
“Tut tut, Angel,” he tsks. “Don’t lie to me.”
My own smirk plays out, and I take great satisfaction in my next words. “I’m not. Hawk did the job for you.”
As soon as his name passes my lips, Wilder’s hand clenches into a fist, yanking on my strands of hair still wrapped around his finger, but I bite back my cry of pain, keeping my eyes on him as I watch the vast range of emotions flicker across his face. Eventually, he hisses, “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” I know I’m only adding fuel to the fire that is Wilder Clearwater and, no doubt, putting a wedge between him and Hawk, but I can’t care about that right now. I need to start leveling the playing field between Wilder and me, and this right here is strike number one of my attack. “Why don’t you ask him?”
I could almost laugh as I witness his face change. A red, angry flush fills his cheeks, and his nostrils flare, his jaw repeatedly clenching and unclenching as his brows pull down. His eyes bounce all over my face, attempting to find the lie behind my words, and I let him look his fill, having nothing to hide.
Eventually, he scoffs and looks away. “Yeah, well, don’t go thinking Hawk is your hero. He’s only looking to get his dick wet.” When I open my lips to protest, he continues. “Do you know why he calls you Little Sparrow?” He glances back and forth between my eyes before answering his own question. “Because Hawks eat little Sparrows like you for breakfast. He’s going to chew you up and spit you out.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat, mentally replaying every interaction with Hawk and wondering if there was an ulterior motive behind it all. Is he just playing me the same way Wilder is?
