Page 84 of Home Ice

She looks me over, like she’s remembering the details. It’s a small town, but Dad and I mostly stick to ourselves, and other than briefly passing each other now and then, I haven’t seen Hawke’s parents basically since I last saw him. “You’ve changed a lot,” she eventually settles on.

“Growing up will do that.”

She laughs, but it tapers off quickly. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. We didn’t know, and⁠—”

“It’s okay. We didn’t want it going around, so it wasn’t common knowledge when it happened.” I drowned mostly alone.

She gives me a tight smile right as Hawke appears. And damn, he looks good.

“Ready to go?” he asks, tucking his phone in his pocket.

“Yeah, if you are.”

Hawke leans in to give his mom a kiss on the cheek.

“What time will you be home tonight?” she asks.

“Oh, I won’t be. It was easier to book a room in the city instead of trying to get a lift back here.” My eyes immediately fly to his. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, both of you boys be safe.”

It’s such a throwback to when we were kids, it gives me pause. Then Hawke keeps walking, and I remind myself we’re not kids anymore, and Hawke’s not planning to come home tonight.

He’s back on his phone again as we walk to the car. I know we talked once about going out in Montreal to hook up, but he has to know that my invitation out tonight was about spending time with him. Yes, my friends will be there, but no, I won’t be letting him out of my sight.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, too curious not to be nosy.

“Kasen.”

That’s the last answer I’m expecting. “Really?”

“Well, mostly, I’m texting him, and he’s giving me the thumbs-up, but it’s a start.”

I mentally cross my fingers for it to be a very good start while we both climb into the car.

“This room in town,” I say through a friendly wave toward his mom. “How many beds does it have?”

“Just one,” he answers, looking back at his phone. “But don’t worry, I asked for a king so we’ll both fit.”

The club is full, Hawke fits in easily with my friends, and we take to the dance floor for hours. The alcohol has made everything a bit fuzzy, the dancing has sweat clinging to my skin, but most importantly, being around people and taking focus from my life has me able to leave my worries behind.

I’m in a Peta/Georgie sandwich, moving to the music, when Hawke comes up to dance behind Georgie. His curls are wet, his shirt is off, and when he reaches his arms around Georgie, he plants them on my hips.

Hawke’s hazel eyes are liquid in the flashing strobe lights, and up close, his features look harsh. Nose chiseled roughly from stone, brow heavy and shadowed, thick neck reaching for the dip in his shoulders.

One corner of his lips tilts upward, not a smile, more like an invitation. And wherever he’s inviting me, the answer is yes.

It’s been too long since I’ve been out like this. Too long since I’ve felt free. Too long since I’ve been able to drink and dance and end the night with questionable choices.

Only this time, I know what the questionable choice will be ahead of time.

Georgie makes the universal sign of another drink before ducking out of Hawke’s arms and disappearing. Judging by the sudden space behind me, I assume Peta went with her.

Leaving me with Hawke.

And his hands.

Pulling me closer.