Page 20 of Hawke


  Hawke likes my answer, pumps hard into me a few more times, and then surprises me by rolling. His hands expertly grip my hips, slinging me on top and never losing a fraction of an inch within me. It takes me no more than a second to get my bearings before I start to ride him.

  I'm not sure if my eyes are adjusting to the dark or I'm just seeing things clearer, but Hawke's gaze upon me is intense with emotion. He bites his lower lip, his hands on my hips urging me to go faster and harder on him. He groans and grunts with every downward push, racing along with me on this highway of sizzling sex and lust.

  "I'm going to come again," I gasp as he hits me extra deep and I feel the telltale prickles in my lower back and between my legs.

  Hawke likes that proclamation too, because he knifes upward into a sitting position, his long legs stretched out. He wraps my legs around his back, places his strong hands under my ass, and presses his chest into mine. Then with the strength of his upper arms, he propels me along, bouncing me up and down on his shaft until I'm starting to mewl like a kitten in need.

  "Come on, Vale," he urges me. "Want you to come all around me. Let me feel it. Let my cock feel it. Give it to me."

  With every word he utters, my orgasm pulses...breaks free.

  "Fuck, I've missed this so goddamn much," Hawke groans, and with those words, just from the mere emotion and gravity of what they mean to me, I scream out my release. He pulls me up by my hips one last time, slams me back downward as his hips punch up, and goes deeper into me than he ever has before.

  He goes straight to my soul as he starts to come inside of me.

  His face drops to my shoulder and he moans, "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck that's good. So fucking good."

  He pulses and shivers in my arms. My body shudders with overwhelming physical and emotional release. My heart splits wide open, right down the middle, and I'm flooded with such passionate feeling for this man that I do the only thing that can possibly be done in this moment.

  I brush my lips against his temple and whisper, "I love you, Hawke."

  Letting out a long exhale of relief that I've said what's been in my heart for probably forever, I pull back and look at him with a soft smile. I expect the words to come back to me at any moment. I expect his mouth to curve up gently and with appreciation for my honesty in helping to move us back to that special place we once inhabited.

  Instead, his head sort of jerks back in surprise and his brow furrows into a pained wince of an expression. He opens his mouth to say something, and when nothing comes out, my stomach drops in keen disappointment. Hawke drops his gaze, down and to the left, staring aimlessly at the blanket and discarded paper cups.

  While his hands are still resting softly on my hips and he's still hard within me and buried deep, I feel exquisite emptiness make a hollow cavern out of my chest.

  "But you don't feel the same," I hazard a whispered guess.

  His eyes snap up to mine and his gaze is sympathetic. He even leans forward and gives me a soft kiss before saying, "I'm sorry...I feel something. I'm just not sure it's love, Vale."

  Chapter 25

  Hawke

  "You seriously can't be leaving," I say as I watch her helplessly put another suitcase into the trunk of her car.

  "It's for the best," she says quietly, refusing to look me in the eye. She stuffs a duffel bag into an empty nook beside the suitcases. I want to rip them out and toss them to the ground, slam the trunk, and demand she stay.

  "So everything that we've been building back up...that's not worth staying for," I growl at her, my frustration starting to overtake my emotions.

  "I'm sorry," she whispers, and places the last bag in place. When she shuts the trunk, she turns to look at me with sad eyes but a clear conscience. "But it's for the best."

  I don't beg. I will not beg. But I come close when I ask, "Is there anything I can do to get you to stay?"

  If I thought her eyes were sad before, they go positively morose. She looks as if her entire world just got plunged into darkness. And she tells me the one thing I cannot give her. "You can tell me you love me."

  I jerk awake, the strains of "Let It Be" by the Beatles ironically filtering from my earbuds to my consciousness. I rub my eyes, pull the minispeakers from my ears, and look to my right. Max sits in the plane seat next to me, staring at me with a knowing look in his eyes. "Bad dream?"

  "Something like that," I mumble.

  "You okay?"

  "Sure," I say as I wind the cord of the earbuds around my iPhone and stuff it in the seat pocket in front of me.

  But I'm anything but fine.

  Things are fucked up.

  Fucked up so bad I feel absolutely helpless and without any clear direction on how to make it better.

  I haven't seen Vale in four days. Since that awful fucking night out by the airport when I had the best orgasm of my entire freaking life, and then proceeded to lose the girl. I'm not sure that's how things are supposed to happen.

  I'm not kidding.

  Best. Fucking. Orgasm. Ever.

  So powerful it sucked everything out of me and left me momentarily desolate of feeling. I was confused by the force of the response to Vale and the way in which we were fucking. The exquisite sensitivity to her; the solid connection of our bodies and even something more than that.

  She told me she loved me, and based on how perfect those moments were right before those words tumbled forth, I should have been throwing a dance party on cloud nine. Instead, those words pierced through me like a molten poker straight from the fireplace, filling me with the burning pain of betrayal. It wasn't something that lasted long, but a finite stab of anger pulsed within me toward Vale. That she could dare go back to that revered place we both shared once long ago. I wasn't the same. She wasn't the same. What we had was different now, and in a moment of absolute shocked confusion over what she was saying, I refused to let myself believe that love was even possible.

  And I told her such.

  Things clearly eroded from there. There was a mad scramble by Vale off of my lap where she awkwardly pulled her clothes on while I tried to make things better with a multitude of idiotic statements.

  I'm sorry. We have something here. Let's talk about this.

  I care for you, Vale. Surely you can see that.

  Wait a minute...take a deep breath and let's figure this out.

  These lame attempts to spark a conversation fell flat. She refused to look at me as she got dressed, and when she was fully clothed and I was still bare-ass naked, she said in a soft voice, "I'd like to go home now."

  I sighed and rolled over, pulling my clothes on slowly. I felt that with every article I put back on, I was heading faster toward the demise of what we had become so far and I didn't know how to fix it. The only thing I could think to do was smack myself on the forehead and blurt out, "Silly me...I was confused. I do, in fact, love you too."

  But I couldn't do that. It simply wasn't true, and the only explanation I had for this innate feeling of not being able to reciprocate was because I didn't trust Vale not to hurt me again. So I, in turn, hurt her.

  Yeah, I'm pretty much a douche.

  After an awkwardly silent start to the journey back to her apartment, we were able to get a modicum of conversation going. She's actually the one that started it.

  I jerked when she said in such a confused voice, "I don't understand. I thought I had it figured out."

  I seized the opportunity to try to get this turned around in a positive manner. Like a moron, I said, "Look...I'm sure you were just caught up in the moment. It's easy to do that during sex. We have feelings for each other, and sometimes they can seem multiplied when you're in the middle of--"

  "No," she cut in on me quietly. "I'm not mistaken in how I feel. I do love you. I'm just confused on about why you don't love me back."

  That shut me the fuck up, for all of about two minutes. Then as carefully as I could, with all hope still surging that I could still salvage this with her, I said, "I can't
explain it, but something inside of me just rebelled against it, Vale. I'm just not ready to say it back."

  "Why?" she pressed me, her voice sounding determined to uncover the truth as to why she was so far off the mark.

  I sighed, turned the radio completely off, and said, "Honestly...I think I don't trust you not to hurt me again. I think the betrayal of what you did...the way you cut me loose before...I apparently just can't let it go."

  I felt it before I saw it. Almost as if the temperature in the car dropped a few degrees, then I imperceptibly saw her body tighten through my peripheral vision. I turned my head to look at her and was shocked by the flash of anger I saw in her eyes. I expected to see contrition, but she was pissed.

  "You can't let it go?" she asked incredulously.

  "Apparently not," I said, with my own anger building. I felt I still deserved to be offended. I thought I still had the right to be wary.

  "You are a fucking hypocrite," she spat at me.

  My head jerked to look at her again, but she turned away from me to stare out the window. She never said another word. The minute I pulled into the players' parking lot to bring her back to her car, she jetted out faster than lightning. I should have gone after her, but I didn't have the energy. I figured I'd give her time to cool off, and we'd hopefully be able to talk about it more the next day. We had a road trip and I planned on sitting next to her on the plane and we'd figure it all out. I had hoped, given time, she'd be cool with us continuing. Taking things slowly. Giving my feelings time to develop and catch up to hers.

  Yup. I'm a moron.

  A moron for even thinking that I could exist in a relationship based on inequitable feelings. Totally a dumbass for thinking that Vale was hurt less than I gave her credit for.

  She didn't show up at the airport the next day for our road trip and panic surged within me. I grabbed Goose, pulled him aside before we boarded, and demanded to know where Vale was. It was her turn to go on the road. He just shrugged and said, "She wasn't feeling well. Called me last night and asked me to take this trip."

  Okay, she's hurt and now pissed. I get it. I expected her to keep silent and ignore me for four days, so I was beyond shocked when I called her that night from the hotel in Los Angeles and she picked up on the second ring.

  "Hey," she said softly.

  My mind blanked at first, so sure that she'd ignore me. But I rallied and asked the thing that really had me worried, because no matter my torn and twisted feelings, I never want to hurt Vale. I know what it feels like and I don't want her to feel that way. So I asked, "Are you okay?"

  I heard her blow out a breath, and with a tired voice she said, "Yeah. I'm good. Just needed a little away time to get my head together."

  "I'm sorry," I told her sincerely. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  "I know," she said, and I could even hear an accepting smile in her voice. "But I get it. I can't judge your feelings, just as I know you can't judge mine."

  "I don't want this to end, Vale. Can we talk about this?"

  "Sure," she said, and I felt a wealth of relief in that one simple word. "When you get back."

  I hung up and felt more grounded. She said we could talk and that was good, right? Except she never said it back to me that she didn't want it to end either. That could have been an oversight, but it could also have been a roundabout way of her saying it's not going to work. This, of course, left me dazed and confused for the next four days. I didn't try to call her again and she never called me. I'm ashamed to say this hurt, but I'm not sure why. I'm sure she was equally as hurt.

  So I played like shit in our back-to-back games against the LA Demons and the Dragons. I made stupid penalties and got in a pissing match with Zack that was totally my fault and not his. I was grumpy and irritable, and the only one that seemed to call me on my shit was Max when he told me last night at dinner to get my head out of my ass. He said my attitude was "hurting the team" and I knew that to be true.

  But in about fifteen minutes, the plane is going to be landing in Raleigh and I'm going to head to her apartment. I had texted her before we boarded, asked if I could come over to talk, and she responded with just one word. "Okay."

  --

  When I pull into her apartment complex, I almost expect to see her packing her car up, as if my dream on the plane was prophecy. Instead, I see her waiting at the top of the staircase, sitting pensively, staring down at me. I get out of my car, pocket the keys, and walk up the flight.

  "Hey," I say, and I'm relieved when she gives me a smile of welcome.

  "Hey." Her voice is hesitant...nervous.

  "Dave inside?" I ask, nodding toward her apartment door.

  "He fell asleep in his recliner so I thought we could talk out here."

  I nod and take a seat next to her, bumping the side of my leg against hers. I feel out of sorts, and push for that little touch, hoping it grounds me. I don't know what to say to make this better, but I need to make it better. I'm not ready for this to be over.

  Vale surprises me by leaning toward me and resting her head on my shoulder. Her hand slips in between us and finds mine where she grasps it. Clearing her throat, she says, "I'm sorry."

  "Me too," I say quickly, because I am. So fucking sorry that I hurt her and couldn't give her what she needs. But maybe...one day.

  "I ruined what was a perfectly great night," she says apologetically. "Let my tongue and tripped-up feelings mess things up."

  This does not sit well with me. Which is odd, because for the last four days, I've wanted nothing more than Vale to come to the same conclusion that I did that this was moving too fast. And now that she seems to be saying that, I should be feeling immeasurable relief. Instead it makes me slightly nauseated.

  That she's apologizing for her feelings.

  "Vale," I say, intent on trying to ease her conscience without devaluing what was in her heart.

  "I'm leaving," she says, and pulls her head up from my shoulder.

  My head snaps to the right, my eyes lasering onto hers. She holds my gaze, doesn't look away in cowardice or shame for her proclamation. She's owning this decision, and I have to wonder how she came to this.

  "Leaving where?"

  "I've been offered a job back at Ohio State...as an assistant athletic trainer for the women's lacrosse team. Tryouts are in January."

  My head spins, and while my inclination is to squeeze her hand in denial, I'm further thrown off balance when she pulls her hand away. She turns on the concrete step to look directly at me. "I've already talked to Gray Brannon. She said I can continue on until the end of the year or leave now. Dad wants to move back to Sydney, so I'm going to help him get settled back there and then head to Columbus."

  "Wait," I say, coming out of my stupor to ask with incredulity, "Just wait a minute. Is this because I couldn't say the words back to you?"

  I expect her to deny it and give me the runaround, but Vale gives me blunt honesty. "Yes. That's the exact reason. While I'm sorry that things went down the way they did the other night, I'll never apologize for my feelings. I do love you, Hawke, and you cannot know how painful it is knowing you don't feel the same."

  "Actually, I do know how bad that feels," I say bitterly, hoping to hurt her just a tiny bit the way she's hurting me now. "Seem to remember you doing the same to me."

  Anger and hurt war within her eyes. "So I guess that makes us even, right?"

  "Not the same, Vale," I say tiredly as I stand up from the concrete step and brush my jeans off. "Back then, you cut me out of your life without any explanation. You let me go and never thought twice about me after that. I'm quite sure this makes me sound like a pussy, but it's a bit hard to get over something like that. I'd have hoped you'd give me a little time to grow back into this, but you want everything right now."

  "I can't deny my feelings," she says as her eyes drop down to her hands, where she fiddles with her bracelet.

  "And I can't conjure up feelings that may not exist," I throw back at her. T
otal ass comment, but I'm feeling cornered and confused.

  Vale presses her lips together in dismay as sorrow filters her gaze. She nods at me in agreement. "I know. And that's exactly why I'm leaving. I can't stay here and continue on with a man I love down to my soul...always have...and continue to be hurt by the fact that it's not a two-way street. I thought you had left all of that behind us. I know I have."

  "Well, yeah," I say sarcastically. "It was a little easier for you to leave it behind. You weren't the one swinging in the wind."

  Vale opens her mouth and I know that whatever she's going to say is going to have a remarkable impact on me. I can see it in her eyes, almost as if she's decided to lay all the cards on the table and I have the uneasy sensation that she's holding a royal flush. I brace for it, ready to have her throw me for some type of loop that will either cement our demise or possibly shake us back to some reasonable reality.

  Instead, her mouth closes and resignation sets into the firm line of her jaw. She stands up, leans forward, and places her hands on my chest. She kisses my cheek. "Goodbye, Hawke."

  I'm a proud man, yet still I'll admit that those words almost cause my knees to buckle. Something deep within my chest rumbles and a searing need to scream at her to stay wells up inside of me. But because I'm a proud man, I swallow against it hard and push it down. I am unwilling to see past my wall of hurt and betrayal and try to see the truth of what she may have just said a moment ago to change the direction in which we were headed.

  Which is a lonely street of heartbreak and abandonment yet again.

  Except at this moment, I'm just not sure who is abandoning whom.

  Chapter 26

  Vale

  The knock on my bedroom door startles me. I had been so deep into Dean Koontz's latest thriller that icy shivers race up my spine from the jolt of the noise. But my dad opens the door and grins in at me, and I realize it's not a paranormal psycho maniac coming to get me. Piper lifts her head from my lap and thumps her tail in greeting.

  "Hey, honey," my dad says, his cheeks rosy from the cold outside. "Want to come see the tree?"

  I dog-ear the page, close the book, and set it aside. My hand goes to Piper's head and scratches at her lazily. Best thing since returning to Sydney was taking possession of my pup back from Avery. "I can't believe you got a Christmas tree already."