Hawke

Distance.

It’s what we need. Space. Time away from each other to fully process what just happened. My mind is so foggy, so clouded when I’m near him, that all rational thought gets thrown out the window. I need clear air to process just how wrong and horrible and awful this situation is.

I sat in my room until Patrick came home from work, chewing my nails until there was nothing left to chew. I’ve never felt so nervous, so anxious, so disgusted by my careless actions. So confused. I have no idea what to do with these emotions. I seem to want what I can’t have; I need what I don’t know, and I know nothing. Mentally drained doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I knew I needed to tell Patrick, but how? When? Would he forgive me? Could we move past this? Did I want to?

He comes in the door cheery as ever, which doesn’t help my situation. I was sick to death, and worried that Hawke would decide against keeping our little secret and just blurt it out to him, simply for the fact that I had invaded his privacy, so he invaded mine. “We had amazing sex, and I gave her an orgasm. What have you done today?”

“Babe? Why are you so pale? Are you feeling alright?” he asks, taking his coat off and laying it on the corner of the bed.

I place my hand on my forehead. “Must’ve eaten something funny.”

“Well, I hope it passes soon,” he says with an excited grin.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Come with me.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me out into the kitchen. My eyes nervously scour the scene for Hawke but I breathe easy seeing he isn’t out here, he’s still in his room. I briefly wonder what he’s been doing or thinking since our little encounter.

Patrick leads me to the table as I take a seat. He walks over to his door, knocking a few times.

I gasp. “What are you—”

Hawke opens the door, peering out at Patrick, wearing a loosely fit black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. He eyes him curiously before glancing over at me.

God, he still looks so effortlessly good. And now, knowing everything that’s under those clothes? I can almost see the imprint of the thing that was just deep inside me. I swallow bile. My face must be a shade of maroon with the heat I now feel in my cheeks.

“What’s up?” he asks casually, rubbing the back of his neck.

My stomach is literally doing a full Olympic gymnastic floor routine inside of my body. I think I’m going to faint.

Hawke’s eyes sweep from me, back to Patrick, and the concern there is evident. Either he thinks I told him or he found out.

“Come on out here for a second. We need to talk,” Patrick says with an easy smile.

I gnaw at my bottom lip as we all sit around the kitchen table together. Hawke sits back into the seat, seemingly relaxed. My hands are sweating like crazy, tucked inside my sweatshirt.

“I know what’s been going on,” he begins.

My face drops as all the air leaves the room. Hawke’s eyes narrow, looking from me to Patrick.

“You guys aren’t really getting along,” he finishes.

I inhale a breath for the first time in what feels like two hours.

“I know it’s hard, having a new roommate and all, especially when you’re both so different and having to share this space during the day. But I really want this to work for the time being. I want us to all be adults here.”

I can’t stand it when Patrick talks down to people like this, especially when it’s me.

“We’re being adults, Patrick, we’re just giving each other much-needed space,” I clarify.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s right,” Hawke interjects. “Maybe we should put more effort into spending time together. Get to really know each other,” he says with amusement in his tone. “I mean, all we do is avoid each other, clearly.”

He leans back in his chair, placing both of his hands on top of his head with a grin pulling at his lips. My eyes narrow at him from across the table. I know what he’s doing. He’s toying with me.

“Exactly. Thank you, Hawke.” Patrick nods. “With me being gone so much with work lately, I’d hate to think it was awkward around here.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes and looking towards the kitchen. Hawke’s eyes are all over me from across the table. Why is he like this? Serious, sexual, then sadistic.

“C’mon Nic…” Patrick scolds me.

“Yeah, Nic,” Hawke says the name with a pop. “Maybe we can come together and be friends?”

I’m not even going to pretend I didn’t just catch what he did there. Cute. Real cute. If my glare could shoot bullets, it would.

Thank God Patrick is so oblivious. Ugh, I feel awful. He’s trying so hard to make me happy. I know he is. He cares about me having to deal with this situation that he brought upon us. If only he knew.

I grab Patrick’s hands on the table and turn towards him with soft pleading eyes. “What I’d really love is some more time with you.”

Hawke rolls his eyes while Patrick smiles lovingly back at me.

“Well, you’re in luck.” He grins. “I got us all tickets to go see Divine Intervention in the city tomorrow night.”

“What?” I ask, looking from him to Hawke.

His face holds humor, amusement, and surprise.

“Divine Intervention?” he asks.

“They’re a Christian rock band. They’re on the rise.” Patrick smiles proudly. “Anyway, I got tickets for the three of us. Figured we could leave when I get off work tomorrow, we can pick up some food on the way.”

“Patrick. I have to work.” I shake my head.

“Problem already solved. I called and asked if someone could cover for you and John said he would figure something out.”

I can see Hawke wanting to laugh as he listens. He’s entirely entertained watching us interact and I could kill him. I could literally kill him.

“I don’t like that you did that. John’s only saying that because he’s a nice guy. Now he’ll be crazy busy by himself trying to cover for me on a Saturday night.” I sigh, feeling frustrated.

“Nic, it’s fine. This is important. We need this,” he replies.

“Yeah, Nic, this will be good. For all of us,” Hawke adds, his mischievous eyes narrowing in on me. I glare back at him.

“Whatever,” I grumble, turning to face Patrick.

“Great. This is good.” Patrick sits back, looking proudly at us both.

This is going to be so bad.

“You look fantastic,” Patrick says, coming up behind me in the mirror.

I blush as I finish curling the last few pieces of my hair. I had no idea what to wear to a Christian rock concert, but I decided on a sunflower floral mini dress, with a cute leather jacket, some thigh-high stockings, and some wedged black booties.

I might look too risque for God-Rock, but here we are.

Patrick’s wearing a pair of jeans with a cream zip-up sweater and Doc Martens. I tease him for looking like a hedge fund kid as he teases me for looking like a groupie.

Our playful energy is back and as horrible as I feel for the awful mistakes I’ve made, I’m just thankful we can be flirty and fun again for the time being. That is until all hell is unleashed once the truth is finally out.

We walk out into the kitchen area, his hands all over me as Hawke walks out of the bathroom. He styled his hair back with a few pieces hanging down. He’s wearing black ripped, fitted jeans with a dark gray t-shirt that clings to his muscular figure. Black combat boots with a few chains around his neck and rings to match. He smells amazing, like some sort of spicy, aftershave-type cologne or whatever guys put on.

My eyes take him in from head to toe and I swallow down the heat that is rising within me. He looks edible in the way that toxic things usually are. He seems to have the same problem, standing there somewhat awkwardly, staring at me.

“Ready to go?” Patrick asks excitedly.

His hands are around my waist as we walk towards the door. He squeezes me as I squeal before he plants his lips on mine. Hawke watches us from behind, using a fist to his chin to crack his neck, then follows us to the car.

“A Kia, huh?” Hawke says from the back seat as we start the hour drive to the city.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Great gas mileage though. Perfect for traveling for work.”

I smile at him, squeezing his hand in mine as he picks it up and kisses my knuckles. God, I’m the worst. I can feel Hawke grinning behind my back with the knowledge of what just transpired moments before Patrick came home. I wonder if he’s still thinking about it the same way I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. His hands, his groans, his eyes, his face, his cock. The condom is probably still in the trash in his room. Jesus, I’m going to puke.

We arrive at the venue, and it’s not what I was expecting. I was ready for at least a bit of an edge, but all I see are men dressed like they’re on their way to a golf tournament, girls on their way to Sunday brunch. Sure, there are some people dressed a tad edgier, but even in my floral dress with a leather coat, I feel like the baddest gangster this side of Harlem.

Hawke’s expression says it all. He’s walking around behind us with a brow cocked and a twisted face. My guess is his type of raves are nothing like this.

We find a spot to stand in the open area, near the stage, when Patrick gets us all a few beers.

“Should I come with? You’ll need help carrying—”

“No, babe, I got it. Just…talk to Hawke.” He kisses my nose before turning away and heading towards the bar through the growing crowd of people.

I grumble then reluctantly face Hawke, who’s smiling devilishly at me yet again. This is all a game to him. Toying with me and my emotions, the only goal.

The crowd gets packed together as more and more people fill the small space before the stage. Hawke and I get pushed closer together. He holds his arms out, shielding me, as a group of boys no older than sixteen push past us.

He settles behind me and takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me back into him. He nuzzles into my hair, finding my ear. I feel his warm, wet mouth surround my earlobe, sending a wave of pleasure below my waist. A breathy moan escapes me as his teeth drag on the sensitive tissue.

I come to my senses, pushing him off me while he chuckles.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Are you crazy?!” I ask, peering past him, ensuring Patrick is nowhere near.

“Sorry, just saw something I liked,” he says with a cocked head, licking his bottom lip, toying with the ring.

“You can’t do that!” I scold.

I turn back around to face the band, who’s getting ready to start. Patrick rejoins us, passing beers around. He puts an arm around me, casually sipping his beer while the music starts up.

The band is actually not that bad. I sway to the music as the rest of the crowd enjoys the catchy hook as well. I peek over at Hawke, who’s standing back from us a bit, leaning against a pillar with a leg crossed casually, sipping his beer.

A group of girls walk past him, giggling and flashing him looks, but he doesn’t pay attention. His eyes are locked on where Patrick’s hand is sliding down my waist. I really wish he’d focus on anything else.

Patrick cups my ass with one hand, nuzzling my hair as he continues listening to the band.

The awkwardness is becoming too much between the two, and I can feel Hawke’s eyes on me like lasers. I get flushed, feeling as if I can’t breathe, like the room is closing in on me. Or maybe it’s just my conscience screaming at me.

“I’m going to grab some water. I’ll be right back!” I call out to Patrick over the music.

He nods as I push out of the crowd. I walk past Hawke without looking or saying a word, and his head turns to follow me.

Grabbing a glass of water from the back bar, I take a deep breath and relax some. I don’t know if it was the crowd, Patrick’s hands on me, or Hawke’s eyes that had me feeling like I couldn’t breathe, but I’m much less congested back here.

I find a set of stairs leading towards the balcony and take them to get a better view of the band. It’s nice up here, away from all of my problems. I’m guessing I’m not allowed because no one else is up here, but I’m loving the space. I finally feel like I can breathe. Leaning against the railing, I watch them rock out, singing their new song “Saved by Your Grace.” It must be their hit song because the crowd sings along to every word.

Gripping the railing with both palms, I feel someone’s hands slide around my waist. I gasp at the sudden contact, unsure of who it might be. Happens when you have a boyfriend, but are also conveniently fucking your roommate.

They pull me back into them, hands sliding down from my waist to my hips. I feel a hard body behind me and smell that delicious cologne as soon as I spot Patrick down in the crowd.

“What are you—”

“Shhh…” he interrupts.

His hands make their way to the front of my exposed thighs, slowly trailing their way up. We’re hidden up here, in the dark, and no one is around us. This is a setup for something bad.

I relax a little against him, taking a breath, leaning back, and enjoying the sensation of the bass beating through my chest as Hawke’s fingers find the place where my legs meet.

I moan when he touches me under my dress, his fingers circling the outside of my panties, driving me insane. He applies just the right amount of pressure. A devastatingly perfect amount, getting my heart rate up and my breathing irregular. The build-up is becoming too much.

His other arm wraps around my waist, holding me in place as he presses himself firmly against my backside, letting me know just how aroused he is too.

“Jesus, you’re all wet,” he whispers in my ear. Feeling the dampness from the outside of my panties, he continues stroking my slit with his finger.

His words, the tone of his deep raspy voice, and what his fingers are currently doing, have me swirling in intoxicated lust.

I blink my eyes, trying to wake myself up, when his lips find my ear again, his tongue trailing down my neck.

“No,” I say breathlessly, pressing my ass back into his erection.

“You want me to stop?” He breathes against me before planting open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Oh, yes.” I moan, rolling my head back into him. His other hand dips inside my jacket, cupping my breast, his thumb flicking over my erect nipple.

I shake my head, opening my eyes, seeing Patrick beneath us watching the band.

“No,” I say breathlessly. “No!”

I grab his hands, throwing them down, then turn around and push him back against the wall. “Stop! We have to stop this! This is insane!”

I finally come to my senses. I just can’t function around him and he knows it. If all he wants is to fuck around with someone, he’s going to need to find someone else to do it with.

Hard eyes find mine as a look of confusion washes over him. He shakes his head once before grabbing my upper arms, pulling me back towards him. Spinning us around abruptly so my back is against the wall, he presses his lips to mine.

His lips are so soft, yet burning for me. His tongue plunges into my mouth as his hands slide up and around the sides of my neck. He pins me against him as his lips seamlessly run against mine. Groaning into my mouth, he presses his erection against my thigh. It feels so good. Too good. So good that I know it’s wrong.

“Hawke, stop!” I finally say, pushing him off me again.

He stands there with his hands up, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth open, as if he was just as intoxicated as I was by our connection.

“I’m sorry, you just…weren’t acting like you wanted me to stop.”

“Does the word no mean nothing to you?” I snap.

“Well, not when it’s followed up with a moaning yes.” He grins his cocky side grin. “You’re sending mixed signals.”

“How’s this for a signal?” I say, flipping him off.

“Again?” He tips his head. “So soon?”

His sarcasm is sending me into a rage. I head for the stairs, leaving him standing there with an amused face.

“Don’t follow me,” I warn, turning to see his sexy grin one last time.

His hands are raised towards me, telling me he knows, hands off. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself before walking back down to Patrick.

I really need to get my priorities straight. I almost hit second base at a Christian rock concert.

Hell is just a stone’s throw away.