HAWKE

3. Alone

I open my eyes to a new day.

A cloudy day.

A tortuous day.

It's Monday, so I'll be home for the duration of the day, alone with Hawke, while Patrick heads off to work at his father's financial firm.

He and his brother were locked into the family business before they learned how to walk. They are the wealthiest family in this town by far, yet make a point to show just how humble they really are, or pretend to be.

Either way, I've got a day of editing ahead of me before I head to my night job, bartending at the local bar in town.

Do I need to do it? No. Patrick tells me all the time to leave the job. That he can provide for me, but I'm just not the type. If I don't make it on my own, I didn't make it at all. It doesn't count.

I also just so happen to love the people I meet. They're real, down-to-earth souls who sometimes just need a bartender session. Like therapy, but it comes with a side of whisky. Some days I'm the teacher, some days I'm the student, but every day, there seems to be a lesson learned.

I wake up early enough before Patrick gets up to go start some much-needed coffee. Putting my silk robe over my tank top and underwear, I tie it loosely, then head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Walking around the living room and into the kitchen, I almost jump out of my skin when I see a tall figure behind the counter.

"Oh! My God." I gasp, standing with my mouth open.

Hawke stands, leaning against the counter, wearing nothing but loose-fitting gray sweatpants with a large imprint of where his infamous member is.

Seriously, does this man not own any other clothing?

He doesn't say a word as I divert my eyes away awkwardly, biting the corner of my lip again.

"See something you like?" he asks blandly, raising an eyebrow at me while his face remains cold.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't think..." I stutter, shaking my head before looking down at my partially open robe, showcasing my hardened nipples straight through my little white tank top.

I clutch it to my chest, sucking in a breath in embarrassment.

His eyes saw it all. I can tell by the way they narrow a bit while his tongue toys with that damn lip ring again.

"I didn't take you for a morning person," I comment, using my long hair to hide the blush in my cheeks as I reach for a cup.

He already has the coffee going and I've never been more thankful for a roommate at this moment.

"So you think you know me?" he asks coldly, before filling his cup.

He leans back against the counter with a scowl on his face and a cocked head, setting his cup down to cross his arms. The motion somehow accentuating the toned muscles beneath the ink of his forearms and biceps.

I try to look away, but fail miserably. There's just something about his whole look that draws my eyes to him.

"I mean, yeah... I think I get the gist based on what I've seen thus far." Being honest, I shrug.

If he's going to be blunt, I'll be blunt right back.

He stands up straight off the counter, grabbing his glass as he walks past me. He pauses, turning his head to look down at me, while his words slice through me in a deep, direct tone. "You don't know shit."

I swallow at his sudden closeness and striking words before he walks away, and I can breathe again.

"And I guess I won't be learning any more today," I say under my breath, before bringing my cup to my lips.