Page 65 of Hawk
Our words hang between us, heavy and raw. Outside, thunder rumbles in the distance, rolling low over the city. The rain thickens again, slamming against the windows with the wind.
I sink back against the pillows, and he follows, still holding me close. My head rests against his chest, listening to the thud of his heart under my ear. “I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I built my life around a man,” I whisper.
“Then don’t.” The simplicity in his tone disarms me. He tilts my chin until I’m forced to meet his gaze. “You built a damn good life for yourself without me. Now you build itwithme.”
I swallow hard. “And if the world pulls us in different directions?”
He smiles faintly. “Then I chase you. To the other end of it if I have to.”
My chest aches. “You can’t promise that.”
“The hell I can’t.” He leans in and kisses me, slow and deep, tasting of conviction. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine again, breathing me in. “You’remy home, Reese. Doesn’t matter what country or time zone. Wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.”
I slide my hand over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“I’ve never said anything I meant more.” Maybe that’s what makes him different. He doesn’t try to tame me. Never has. Not truly. He just finds a way to stand beside me. “You’re chaos, baby. But I’ve never been more at peace than when I have you in my arms.”
We lie there for a long time, listening to the storm. His thumb strokes lazy circles along my shoulder. The rainfall eases to a gentler patter, soft enough that I can hear the city beneath it as the moonlight inches across the wall. I think about the weight of everything we’ve been through—the lies, the danger, the years lost. And somehow, it all narrows to this tiny moment. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the quiet promise that maybe love doesn’t have to mean losing yourself. Maybe it can mean finding someone who sees every version of you—and stays.
My fingers trace the ring again, feeling the tiny imperfections in the metal, the history carved into it. Forthe first time in years, the future doesn’t feel like something I have to survive. It feels like something I get to live.
The smell of roasted garlic and seared steak fills the air, thick and warm, wafting around the laughter that feels too rare in this house. It’s been a long time since this patio table saw anything other than takeout cartons. Until tonight. Tonight is different.
Reese sits on my left, wearing that pale green sweater I love. It brings out the bright emerald of her eyes and hugs her curves in all the right places. Her hand keeps brushing mine, fingers grazing my knuckles like she can’t quite keep her hand from me. The emerald catches the light each time, and I can’t stop looking at it. For ten years, I held onto that ring. Ten years I told myself it was foolish, sentimental, and outright pathetic. Turns out it was none of those things. It was inevitable.
Gunnar is returning from the kitchen with his second beer when Abby’s eyes land on Reese’s hand. I can practically hear the gears turning. Her gaze flicks from the ring to me, to Reese, then back again.
“Oh, my God…” Her voice rises an octave as she slaps the table. “Are you—? Is that?—?”
Reese looks at her, then at me. Her lips curve in that quiet, reverent smile that kills me every damn time. “Yes,” she answers softly, eyes locking on mine. “Chris asked last night.”
The table erupts. Abby shrieks, Gunnar grins so wide I think his face might crack, and Damon actually stands to hug me, muttering something about “finally” under his breath. Even Jagger, the bastard, looks touched for all of five seconds before he hides it under a smirk.
“About damn time,” Gunnar says, clinking his beer bottle against mine. “I was starting to think you two were going to go another ten years.”
Reese laughs, cheeks flushed, and I pull her closer. Her ring glints in the low light again, and I swear my chest could burst from how right it looks.
Damon raises his glass. “To Hawk and Reese. The most unlikely, terrifyingly perfect couple I’ve ever met.”
“To Hawk and Reese!” the table echoes, laughter spilling into the clink of glasses and the scrape of cutlery.
Gunnar leans forward after a while, still grinning. “So, when’s the big day?”
“Eventually,” Reese says at the same time I reply, “Soon.”
The patio falls silent, all eyes flitting between the two of us and the tension crackling between us.
Reese turns to me, brow arched. “Soon?”
“Uh oh,” Jagger mutters, pushing from his seat. “Hold on a sec, let me grab my popcorn.”
I shoot him a look, then turn back to Reese. “Baby,” I exhale with a small smile, “I should’ve done this ten years ago. Waiting another day to make you my wife is a day too many.”
She blinks and tilts her head, exclaiming, “Today?”
I laugh. “Notactuallytoday. But I don’t want to wait.”
Her lips part, a mix of surprise and amusement. “There’s planning. Your parents… My mom… A dress.”