Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(2)

Hawk lifted his glasses over his head and didn’t look as amused as I thought he would. “Don’t pull that shit tonight, got it? You’re sexy as sin, Izzy, but I’m getting real tired of the way you shake your ass at other wolves to make me jealous.”
I folded my arms. “Maybe if you gave me some attention, I wouldn’t have to.”
He slid his glasses back on when the light turned green. “I give you plenty of attention when it counts.”
It only counted five seconds before he had an orgasm, or if I was on my way home and he wanted me to stop off at the taco stand. Hawk took care of me and we got along, but the chemistry was nonexistent, as it was with almost all the guys I’d dated. I’d concluded that mated Shifters were all extraordinary liars. Hawk didn’t make my toes curl or my insides tingle. He didn’t make me slide down in my seat and fantasize about what I wanted him to do to me. Hawk took me to Chili’s every Friday, paid the bills, tuned up my car, and let me sleep with the remote control. I guess that’s love.
“I’m not sure that I like your work attire,” he grumbled, staring down at my long legs.
I tilted the vent away and twisted around to face him. “This isn’t my uniform, so just drop me off and keep all the snide remarks to yourself. I don’t want you coming in and picking on my customers. You know how Shifter bars operate, and I’ve done the waitress gig before. At the end of the day, I’m there for the tips, not the compliments. I may shake my ass and throw them a few winks, but I’m monogamous, and you know that.”
He eased up to the front of the building and pinched my chin. “Better be. If I hear you’re messing around, it won’t be pretty.”
“You’re right, Hawk. Nothing makes me wetter than serving a bunch of jackasses beer and nachos. Give me a kiss.”
A smile curved up his cheek, and he pulled a lock of my red hair. “Your fiery temper is going to land you in trouble one of these days.”
“It already has. I’m with you.”
And wasn’t that the truth? Hawk was a nice guy, but whatever he did was illegal. He’d come home on more than one occasion with bruised knuckles and a look of satisfaction. It seemed out of character because I’d never seen him lose his cool, no matter how much smack he talked. Hawk wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, but then again, what sense of normalcy had I ever had? The only stability I’d ever known was with Jericho, and God knows where he was. The last time I saw him, he was lying in our hotel room in my bed with a girl straddling him and rocking her hips mercilessly.
Wearing my Pink Floyd shirt.
Jericho knew how much I loved that shirt, and he gave it to some whore who probably cut it up and made it into a hideous beach-bikini top. He’d crossed a line, which led me to believe he didn’t value our friendship as much as I did.
I’d never had sex with Jericho because that wasn’t what our relationship had been about. What had once existed between us was a close bond that I’d never experienced with anyone before or since.
“Look, it’s the only Breed job I could find you on short notice,” Hawk said. “You’re the one who insisted on finding work, but I’m fine with you staying home. Actually, I like this idea less the more I think about it. Nervous?”
“First-day jitters. You know how it is.” I stared out the window. “I need to stay busy and work or else I go nuts.”
“Well, this’ll be a trial period. I make good money, so I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”
I chuckled softly. “You’d be surprised what a girl can make in a place like this.”
Howlers was a low-key bar that catered to Shifters, and that was my kind of place. I felt more comfortable around my kind; Vampires and Chitahs made me nervous as heck. Some Breeds lacked distinct characteristics and could pass as human, so they weren’t as easy to identify. A Mage looked no different than anyone else, but as a creature of energy, their presence could be felt by a sweep of chills across your body that could easily be mistaken for the shivers. All the Chitahs I’d met were tall, had predatory body language, and eyes the color of amber or firelight.
“Last chance,” he offered.
“It’s gravy.” I opened the door and got out. “I’ll be fine driving myself to work from here on out.”
“Izzy, we talked about this. I don’t want you driving out here alone.”
“I know, but it doesn’t look so bad,” I said, glancing around the parking lot. The bar was sandwiched between a pawnshop and an open field. “It’s not like we’re in the hood.”