My Wicked Virgin

Page 11

Chapter 4
Three months later
Hawk waited at the baggage claim at the Denver airport. Thankfully the crowd was small this late on a Wednesday night. A few people shot him second looks, but he was so used to their attention that it was just background noise. He only cared about one person right now—a piece of his heart that had been missing for the past two months.
Hawk was out in Colorado doing a favor for his old friend Stone. Back in the day, they’d co-starred in a hit spy movie series where Hawk had played the ultimate bad guy to Stone’s ultimate hero. The movies launched both of their careers and made them very, very rich. Now, Stone put his skills and experience to use behind the camera, and he’d asked Hawk to come out of semi-retirement to have a bit part in the movie. Except that “bit” part had grown, and what was supposed to be a couple weeks gig became a couple months one instead.
While the movie was amazing, and he had a great time hanging out with his old friend, he’d missed the fuck out of Sunny.
He thought that maybe some time apart would do them good, that it would be easier to hide his growing feelings for his best friend. Instead, with every phone conversation, every text, and every video chat, he’d only become more and more addicted to her. Unfortunately, she still wasn’t ready for him, and it was driving him crazy.
To make matters worse, while he’d been gone, Sunny’s mom Lisa had reappeared in her life, once again begging for money and a place to stay. Lisa swore she was sober, and she’d hung out in front of Sunny’s apartment building, making a scene when the doorman wouldn’t let her in. From what security had told him, Lisa—who he’d put on Sunny’s banned visitor list a long time ago—was definitely still using. Hawk had a private investigator keeping tabs on Lisa, and he knew she was living out of her car lately.
Part of him felt sorry for her—a tiny, tiny part—but the vast majority of him loathed the woman for what she’d done and continued to do to Sunny. When Lisa hadn’t been able to talk to Sunny at her home, she’d stalked her at school, creating a scene in one of Sunny’s classes before mid-winter break. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, because Sunny had been near hysterical when she’d called him, but he knew it had hurt and embarrassed Sunny badly. Despite her protests that she didn’t care what other people thought of her, deep down she was always afraid of being seen as the trashy daughter of a druggie prostitute.
That was why Hawk had decided to fly Sunny out from D.C. to Colorado for her break. It was only four days, but she’d seemed super excited to spend them with him. Sure, he’d sweetened the deal by telling her he’d take her to the movie set with him and show her around, but he really hoped her enthusiasm was more for seeing him than other stars he worked with. A little, unexpected stab of jealousy hit him in the gut as he wondered if taking her to the set was a good idea. Stone was one of Sunny’s favorite movie stars, and Hawk knew women found his friend attractive. What if Sunny decided she wanted to spend some time with Stone?
As quickly as the idea entered his head, he shook it off. No, Sunny was pretty adamant about her no dating policy. She’d turned down every man and woman that approached her at Club Wicked, no matter how attractive and rich. What free time she did have, she mostly spent with Hawk and his circle of friends. She’d become tight with the wives of his Club Wicked friends, and he marveled again at how well she fit into his life. Like there was a spot, an emptiness, that had been waiting just for her shining presence.
He kept his gaze focused on the stairs as a pair of women in their thirties wearing tight jeans and fluffy boots, pointed at him while whispering to each other. Shit, he’d hoped to get through here without being noticed. Sure enough, a cell phone came up and he inwardly sighed.
Usually, he wore a hat and non-descript, baggy clothing to try and blend in when he was out in public. At Sunny’s request, he’d worn his hair down, and it attracted attention. Sure, people recognized him more with his hair back, but he didn’t braid it just for looks. He braided it because his hair was an out of control, wavy mane that fell to almost his hips. Every stylist he’d ever worked with had always been slightly awed, and intimidated, by his hair. While it was thick like his Navajo mother’s hair, it had a deep wave in it that he got from his Mexican father. No matter how many flat irons and serums the stylists had used on his hair, it just wouldn’t stay straight for more than thirty minutes.