“Right.” Hauk’s tone bristled as he stood and grabbed his own shirt. He didn’t put it on though. “This was a mistake we won’t repeat.”
“That’s not—”
“You have someone waiting.” Moving stiffly, he picked up the paper she’d dropped and held it out to her.
Vic’s heart fractured a little as she took Sophie’s essay. That Hauk could believe, even for a moment, she would be able to leave him and go to another man… He should know better, but she was no more in the mood to set him straight than he was to listen. Instead, she grabbed her purse and walked out.
Her body burned.
Her heart bled.
Chapter Three
Vic stopped in the bar downstairs from Hauk’s apartment for a drink. The liquor didn’t help any more than Aimee’s sweet concern. Even the sea-scented and chilled walk home through the early morning silence did nothing to ease the impact he’d had on her body.
Still stinging from Hauk’s words, and vibrating from the remembered imprint of his hands and the orgasm they’d carried her to, Vic let herself into her small apartment. She’d always loved the home she’d made with its bright colors and overstuffed chairs. Now…
It seemed too small and empty.
Confining.
Suffocating.
Like her skin.
One kiss and her dreams had shifted into a temporary reality. One kiss, one touch, and everything she’d known to be true about herself and about her and Hauk had been changed.
With each step, the strength in her knees chipped away until they shook like jellyfish. Vic collapsed into the closest chair.
Hauk had kissed her and touched her and taken her to orgasm.
That they’d stopped, worse that he’d declared it a mistake, didn’t matter. That he’d thought she would leave him and go to another man—wherever he’d gotten that idea—hurt. He hadn’t hurt her so badly since he’d dismissed her when she tried to warn him about Krista. Then and now the hurt shocked her. But when the edge of shock sloped down a less violent path, she realized it didn’t matter.
He’d seemed different from the moment he walked in the door. And he’d looked at her differently.
She didn’t care what had caused the change.
She didn’t care why he thought she’d had plans with Sean, though she could address that if necessary.
She didn’t care that he’d mistaken her words and said they’d made a mistake.
She only cared that Hauk had kissed her and how much she wanted to risk exploring what they’d begun. She cared deeply about knowing if the connection she’d glimpsed could last.
Just as soon as she crafted a reason to swing by when Sophie was gone, she would make sure he kissed her again. The trick would be having a cover story that didn’t include “How about we pick up where we left off?” Nope. That explanation would have Hauk locking her out of his life.
She wouldn’t risk that even if it meant she could never touch him again. Though she planned to somehow have it all.
Thinking and staring at the wall until it blurred into a smudge of sunny yellow, Vic drifted on the waves of possibilities.
She could check on Sophie, but he’d expect that in the form of a text while she headed to the salon in the morning. Besides, not only was it not sexy, she wouldn’t use Sophie to get to Hauk.
She could go to his bar for drinks, but she never drank alone, and gathering her girlfriends around her was again not sexy. Besides, three of her closest friends were on an alcohol hiatus thanks to the babies in their bellies. Her other friends… Well they would see too much and she’d prefer to explore Hauk and the possibilities therein privately.
She could…
The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. It was later than she’d expect for a call, but when she dug the cell from her purse and saw the caller ID, she wasn’t really surprised. Smiling, she hit Talk.
“Hello, Byron.” The man made predicable unpredictability a lifestyle, which made him more endearing than his old-fashioned charm. She could never guess what he’d do, but neither was she surprised when he did it—like calling her at nearly one in the morning.
“It’s about time you answered, girl. I’ve been calling all night.”
Curiosity had her vowing to check her missed calls log when they hung up. “You have me now, though I’m not sure why this couldn’t wait until later. What’s up?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
He didn’t acknowledge her reference to the hour, and if she asked again, he’d give her a passive response that was more evasion than answer.
“No, I will not date or marry any of the men you may have chosen for me.” None would be good enough. None would kiss the way Hauk kissed.