Page 13 of Hawk

“I’m good right here,” I said.

I knew my friends meant well. With both of them paired up, it was natural for them to want the same for everyone. But not all of us were as lucky as those two. I took a sip of my drink and locked eyes with Julius across the table.

“How about you, Julius? He looks like your type.”

He glanced over at the bar and gave the guy a once-over, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to make a move either.

“Nah,” Julius said. “I’m just here for the music tonight. Mika, let’s go dance.”

“Now that sounds like a plan,” I said.

We joined the crowd, and the beat of the music took over. Julius was a fabulous dancer, and after one or two songs, Caleb and Andy joined us on the dance floor—and I completely lost myself in the rhythm.

Hawk

I’d slipped into the club and taken a seat with the other guys from Three Bears at an out-of-the-way table that gave me a good view of the dance floor and the table Mika always sat at with his friends when he came for Daddy Nights.

Before we’d helped the owners of Kirby’s set up their new security, I’d never been to the club. I preferred to do my hunting farther away from home. But all that had changed when I met Mika.

Ever since that night, I hadn’t been interested in taking the drive to San Antonio or Austin to go to one of my normal haunts. Instead, I’d settled for popping into Kirby’s on Daddy Night so I could torture myself by watching him flirt with other men and dance like he didn’t have a care in the world.

The good news for both of us was that so far, he hadn’t left with anyone. Because while I was determined to give him time to become more comfortable with me, I wasn’t sure how I’d react if he decided to go home with someoneotherthan me.

Tonight, he was out on the dance floor with three of his friends, and they all seemed to be having a great time.

“He’s enjoying himself tonight.” Crowe tipped up his beer bottle and took a long drink. “How’s the self-defense class going?”

“Pretty good. Who knows, maybe tonight I can even speak to him without spooking him.”

Crowe shrugged. “Well, youarea scary dude.”

“I’m not scary unless you give me a reason to be. Mika has no reason to be scared of me. I just need to give him time to realize that.”

“You know what would help him come to that conclusion?” Wolfe gave me that look of his that made it clear how ridiculous he thought I was being.

“No, oh wise one, tell me.”

“Spending some time with him. You know, talking to him. Treating him like a man instead of spun glass that you’re afraid you’ll break.”

“I don’t—” Wolfe raised one eyebrow, and I stopped.

Was Wolfe right? I was trying to ease Mika into the idea that I was a good guy. Someone he could trust. But was I beingtoocareful with him?

“You do,” Wolfe said. “But I understand why. It’s been months, my friend. You’re going to have to make a move before long, or someone else will beat you to it.”

I looked out at the dance floor and found Mika swinging his hips to the music, arms in the air. His t-shirt had lifted, showing a pale strip of skin at the small of his back. I always thought he looked good, but tonight he looked even sexier than normal, if that was possible. He turned around, back-to-back with one of his friends. He’d been out there dancing when I came in, so I wasn’t sure how long he’d been at it, but his bangs were slightly damp, and sweat glistened on his face. I had the thought that this was the real Mika—uninhibited, joyful, and perfectly at ease in his surroundings.

At least he was until he looked up, and our eyes met. His breath caught, and I prepared myself for him to flinch or disappear into the crowd, but to my surprise, his lips tipped up in a small smile before he spun back around and continued dancing with his friends.

I was counting that as a win.

A short time later, he and his friends all left the dance floor and made their way over to the table where Keith Brooks was sitting, waiting patiently for them. He was always with the boys when they came for Daddy Night, which I appreciated.

“I’m going to go grab another beer. Do y’all want one?” I asked.

“No, I’m good,” Wolfe said, holding up his half-full whiskey glass.

“I’ll take one,” Crowe said.

---