Page 77 of Feels Like the First Time
Ali knew what it felt like to wait. She’d been waiting for love her whole life, it seemed, but she thought her time had finally come. Hawk loved her; she had no doubt about his feelings. Just like she had no doubt that he still loved Bridget. He always would; he’d told her as much.
But Ali decided that this was one love she wasn’t willing to share.
So she waited, in her pajamas, on the front porch steps, for him to come back. For him to explain away the confusion and uncertainty that grew with every minute that passed. She waited as the day started its final descent over the Pacific, until that voice in her head telling her she wasn’t enough came back, and when enough time passed for Hawk to work out world hunger, Ali decided she was tired of waiting.
She knew what she wanted, had for a long time, and now she needed to see if Hawk wanted the same thing. See if he wanted it with her. Because she would rather know now than wait until that hope got any further out of control.
Cutting the engine, Ali picked her way through the orchard and down the steep pathway to the beach, with only light from the moon and her growing frustration to find her way. The closer she got to the beach, the more slippery her descent, the loose sand and gravel cutting into her sandaled feet, the possible reason for what he had to work out making each of her steps more and more difficult.
She’d meant what she’d said to her dad. Love just is. It doesn’t need to be worked out, or weighed. And it doesn’t change when another opportunity arises.
Ali’s foot slipped and her pulse pounded wildly in her throat. That legendary calm she relied on to keep her grounded had leaked out somewhere between town and here, leaving her feeling raw and exposed.
By the time she hit the bottom of the trail and stepped out onto the bluff, her hands were trembling, and by the time she found Hawk, the soft spot in her chest, where he’d taken up residence, began to ache.
He was sitting on his rock, ankles crossed and legs pulled to his chest, the moon lighting his profile as he stared out at the black waters. All it took was one glance in her direction for Ali to know exactly what he’d been working out.
How to move on.
Twelve hours ago, he’d been in her bed, looking at her with love and wonder, as if she was the one. And now they were at his thinking spot, the place he came to when he felt trapped and needed a reminder of just how big the world was, and that wonder in his eyes was replaced with dread.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she said when he looked up at her.
“Yes you did,” he said, standing and coming over to her to take her hands. “I hope you brought pie.”
The sensation of his touch was both comforting and terrifying.
“This didn’t feel like a pie kind of conversation,” she said, and her voice had a little more bite to it than she’d expected. “In fact, I’m so tired of waiting for this conversation to happen, I’m actually pissed at myself for putting it off so long.”
Because then she wouldn’t be in this situation again, with her heart on the line and wondering if one more person who she loved was going to choose to love her back.
Nausea burned the sides of her stomach until she was certain she was going to be sick. Standing here, in front of him, knowing that he could drop a bomb of truth on her that would forever shatter her world was petrifying.
But she’d shattered before, twice, and both times she’d managed to pull herself back together. And she could do it again. What she couldn’t do was continue on for one more breath not knowing if he still dreamed of being with another woman.
Ali looked at those deep brown eyes that she loved and had come to trust. “Are you still in love with Bridget?”
There was a heavy beat of silence, where she held Hawk’s steely gaze. He was working hard to find the right words, or maybe he was waiting for her to speak. Either way, the silence grew until it became a physical force separating them.
A muscle in Hawk’s jaw ticked. “I don’t know, Ali. Do you think I could still be in love with someone else?”
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling more lost than ever. He didn’t look guilty or concerned; he looked hurt. The kind of hurt that changed everything. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“You don’t know?” He dropped his hands and stepped away from her. “Is it that you don’t know or you don’t believe me? Because I made it pretty fucking clear last night how I felt about you.”
“Last night was pretty intense and I was a mess, and you were comforting me,” Ali said. “Sometimes people say things in the heat of the moment and then things change and they want to take them back. I didn’t know if you wanted to take them back.”
“And what if I did?” he asked, just staring at her. His face cool and distant. “What if I did want to take them back and give it a try with Bridget? What would you do?”
Dread moved through her, robbing her words and stealing her breath. She’d wanted to know the truth before it was too late to come back, but the sharp ache lacing through her body told her it already was. “Do you? Want to take them back?”
“You first. I asked you a question and I want the answer.”
“I don’t know what I’d do,” she said honestly, wondering how this got turned around on her.
“Then that’s a fucking problem I can’t fix,” he said, and if a rogue wave had dropped her into the side of the cliff, the impact would have been laughable compared to the anger flashing in his eyes. “Because when I told you I wanted to hold you forever, I meant forever. I meant, even if it came down to winning another Stanley Cup or being in your arms, running the bar or being in your arms, going back and replaying that game so my career never ended or being in your arms, I’d pick being in your fucking arms every time. But you have one conversation with your sister andyou don’t know?”
“Hawk, I—”
