I resist the urge to snort, putting my fork down. "I need to use the bathroom. Excuse me."
They watch as I stand, pushing back my chair. I decide to head to the upstairs bathroom, desperate to get a moment away.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I gather my thoughts, focusing on my breathing.
I can do this. I can do this.
When the door creaks open, my head shoots up and I spot Hawk, leaning against the doorframe.
I can't do this.
"Oh, God," I whine. "What do you want now?" I ask, trying to keep my voice down.
He raises an eyebrow at me. "Mom sent me up here to check on you. She's worried."
I roll my eyes, standing up. "Can you blame me?"
"I'm getting the feeling that you are mad at me," he says, acting surprised. "Have I done something?"
Scoffing, I fold my arms. "No," I answer sarcastically. "This has been such a lovely surprise. Very glad you were able to join us for dinner."
Hawk smirks, stepping inside the bathroom. "It's always a pleasure," he muses, closing the distance between us.
I watch him carefully, keeping my guard up. "Biggest displeasure of my life."
He laughs, reaching up to grab my cheek with his hand. "You're definitely a pleasure, Tempest. Did you like your present last night?"
"No," I scold him. "How did you even find out where I live?"
"It's easy, but I can't tell you all my secrets," he replies, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "Because where's the fun in that?"
Before I can respond, he leans down, pressing his lips to mine. My eyes flutter closed, starting to kiss him back before I come to my senses. I push his chest with my hands, breaking the connection.
"Stop that," I whisper heatedly.
"Why?" he asks, stepping forward.
I take a step back, my knees hitting the edge of the bathtub. I try to move around him, but he spins me, pushing me gently against the wall.
"Because."
"Because, why?" he questions again, arm next to my face, balancing on the wall. "Are you afraid to enjoy it?"
I scoff. "I don't enjoy it."
"Liar," he whispers, kissing me again.
I mumble into his mouth, hands reaching up to shove him again. But he's quicker, pinning them against the wall above my head.
This time, I give in, kissing him back. Our bodies are nearly pressed together, and I push against his hands, trying to free myself. I want to touch him, but he doesn't let me.
Slowly, he breaks the kiss, only moving far enough back that our noses still touch.
"Don't fight it," he mumbles, staring into my eyes. "Or do. I love a good fight."
"You don't fight fair," I reply in a low voice.
Hawk smiles. "I know. And that's your favorite part."