Page 18 of Pretend You Love Me

Hell if I’m going to let that happen.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder. I can feel her trembling, and I'd love nothing more than to make her stop, but right now, my priority is getting Hawk to go the hell away.

“This is Ginger. We’ve been in a long distance relationship. She’s come to visit me, but she had some car trouble today.”

I can feel that she’s stopped breathing. I pull her a little closer and kiss her on the head. Fuck me, everything about her is soft and inviting, and her hair smells like fucking roses.

Hawk’s eyes widen just slightly.

“I don’t know why there would be a rental though. She’s staying right here. Isn’t that right, cupcake?”

I’m still not sure if she’s breathing. I squeeze her shoulder, and she jerks back to life.

“Yes...yes, that’s right.” She’s not really selling this.

“Hawk, is it?” She holds out her hand. I don’t want him to fucking touch her - not even her hand, but he reaches out and shakes it. They don’t linger though. Probably because I’m staring at Hawk like I’m going to rip his head off if he so much as breathes wrong around her.

“You got pretty banged up,” he says, stepping back.

That’s right. Step back. Far back.

She looks down at her wrist.

“She sure did. I’m taking good care of her though,” I say. “Don’t worry.”

“Well, I guess people were mistaken earlier.”

“I guess they were,” I say. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Naw, just checking in.”

I smile tightly. Time for him to move the fuck along.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” he says.

Not a chance in hell.

“Sure thing,” I say. I’m leading Ginger by the hand back up the stairs. She waves and calls, “Nice to meet you.”

I drag her inside before Hawk can even respond.

Chapter Five

Brooklyn

“Why did you do that?” I hiss as soon as he shuts the door.

He drags his hands over his face like he’s not sure why he did it.

“Ginger...” he sighs.

“Now everyone in town will think we’re together,” I say, panic rising in my voice. If I was wanting to keep a low profile, this was not the way to do it.

He starts walking away from me toward the kitchen. “Yeah, that was the point.”

“That’s not what I want.” I storm after him.

“It’s not what I want either, cupcake,” he says as he opens the bottle of ibuprofen and shoves two pills into his mouth.