by P. Jameson
She had practically run from him. He’d poured his heart out to her, and she’d locked herself behind a door to get away from him.
“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand roughly through his hair.
He’d been so relieved to have her safe, he didn’t think his words through. They just fell out of his mouth with his feelings like a pot boiling over. He’d probably scared her. Or at the very least, confused her.
Time to swallow down the bitter spoon: Lola didn’t return his tender feelings. Just like he’d told himself all these months. He was a lovesick fool for her, and she hadn’t suspected a thing. Which until tonight, was his intention. But seeing how close she’d come to dying, no matter that he’d kept his distance, changed everything. What the hell good was it to stay away from her, if she was open to attack anyway?
Faster, he paced, like that would speed things along in the bathroom. But all it did was make him more agitated. He needed a distraction.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he decided to check on Hazel. Her phone was likely blown to smithereens, so he dialed Drak’s instead.
“What?” His friend’s frustrated voice answered. It was odd to hear him like that. They’d had trying times before, and the vamp never lost his cool. But tonight, he wasn’t himself.
“Checking on Hazel. How is she?”
Drak blew out a breath. “Fine, for now. I explained to her what happened and she’s… taking it well. Actually, that’s an understatement.”
Hatch frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s excited.”
“Excited?”
“That’s what I said.”
Somehow that eased Hatch a fraction. At least she wasn’t spitting mad like he assumed she’d be.
“I haven’t told her yet how difficult the transition can be. I expect she’ll be hating us all by the time she’s fully Daybreaker.”
“I heard that,” Hazel said in the background. “Trust me, will ya, Dracula. I’m up for the challenge.”
Hatch could practically hear Drak grating his teeth at the reference to the signature vampire.
“Put her on the phone,” Hatch said.
There was a rustle and then Hazel’s lazy voice came across the line. “Hi, cuz. I’m good, really. Just need some sleep. What’s that thing you always tell me?”
“Things will look better in the morning?”
“Yeah, that. It’s fucking true, I tell ya. T to the R-U-E. Areyouee. Ha. That sounds funny when you say it fast.”
Hatch pinched the bridge of his nose. Was Daybreaker blood supposed to make you drunk?
“How’s our girl?” she asked. “How’s Loooooooola?”
“She’s… safe. A little banged up, but nothing she won’t heal from.”
“Good. Have you told her you love her yet?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, at least have you kissed her yet?” Pecking noises clicked through the earpiece.
“No,” he gritted.
“What do you mean, no?” Hazel’s voice rose like she was highly offended.
Hatch sighed and lowered his voice to almost nothing. “She doesn’t… she isn’t…”
“What is it, Hatch? Spit it out.”
“She doesn’t feel like that for me.” Goddamn it, why did he tell Hazel that? It was bad enough thinking it, but saying it out loud? That was like getting punched in a knife wound.
The line was silent for too many breaths. Maybe she’d passed out.
The door to the bathroom eased open, and Lola stood in the doorway, freshly showered and wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe. His mouth went dry at the sight. Hair down, wet and dripping a little because she hadn’t wrung it out enough. Face free of the makeup she wore during the day. Small swaths of skin, dewy from the steam in the bathroom.
To see her completely unbuttoned, no scrubs, no bun on top of her head, no polite smile, and no Mr. fucking Jacobson…
If nothing ever came of them. If he lived the rest of his days knowing she was aware of his feelings and rejected him, he’d take this picture, right here, to his grave and die a happy man.
What a fucking gift.
“Now, that’s some bullshit,” Hazel picked up. “Some grade A, top notch buuuuuullshit. She’s totally into you, Hatch. She told me. Well… she didn’t actually tell me. More like, I called her out on it because she gets all dreamy eyed every time you come by the bank.”
“That right?” Hatch murmured skeptically. He watched as Lola tiptoed closer to the bed, her gaze averted.
Hazel snorted. “Yes, that’s right. You know what? You guys don’t have time for all this pussyfooting. Lemme talk to her.”
“Why?” Hatch asked, suspicious. Hazel wasn’t at one hundred percent. He didn’t want her making the situation even more awkward for Lola.
“Because I fucking said, that’s why. Let me talk to my friend right now, Hatch.”
And now she was throwing the F word around all willy nilly. Friend, not fuck. She was serious.
Hatch popped his jaw. “Fine.” He held the phone out to Lola. “It’s Hazel. She wants to talk to you.”
Her eyes went wide. “How is she? Is she okay?”
“Spunky as ever.”
Lola yanked the phone from his grasp and pressed it to her ear. But Hatch wasn’t waiting around to hear whatever Hazel would say. He wasn’t going to watch Lola’s wary gaze grow even more distant.
No, it was time for his turn in the shower. And when he was done, he’d ask Drak for a separate room.
***
“Haz—”
“What the hell are you thinking?” her friend’s accusatory tone blasted across the line, and Lola froze.
“Are you alright, Hazel? How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. A little sloshed for some reason, but fine. Forget about me. What are you doing?”
“I… I…” She had no idea how to answer that.
“This is your chance, Lo,” Hazel said, exasperated. “Why are you wasting it?”
“My chance?”
“Yes, your chance. Your mystery man. He’s right there. How come you’re not jumping his bones yet? I mean, unless it’s because of getting blown up. How are you feeling anyway, I forgot to ask. And also…” There was a long pause. “Drak says he thinks you saved me. Is that true?”
Lola blinked her eyes closed trying to sort out all of Hazel’s questions. She’d tackle the easy one first.
“I pulled you out of the bank before it exploded. Barely. Hatch showed up and got us the rest of the way. And then Drak helped with the… the…”
“Blood. He gave me his blood.” She sounded proud. Like the Daybreaker had bestowed a gift upon her. And maybe that’s exactly what it was.
“Yes. And don’t worry about me. I really am fine. A couple bumps and bruises, but I’ll be good by morning.”
“Good. So… what about your man?”
Her man. None of this made sense. Hazel had known about her crush the whole time, yet clearly knew him on a personal level. Didn’t she realize the jig was up? She didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“He’s fine too.”
Hazel sighed loudly. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Hazel…” Lola frowned, confused. “Is Hatch the reason you were crying last night?”
The phone went silent, and it was all the confirmation she needed.
“It’s okay,” she rushed out. “Really. I’m not mad about it.”
She was hurt, but in the grand scheme of things…
“It’s not what you think, Lola.”
“But he was the reason you came to my door with tears in your eyes, yes?”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s okay. Please. We’re friends, and I don’t want to come between you two—”
“He’s my cousin, you sick freak.”
Wait, what.
“Cousin?”
“Yeah, Hatch is my cousin, and he’s the whole reason I started working at the bank
in the first place. He’s going to kill me for telling you this. Or… maybe not. Anyway, I was there as your protection detail. He wanted to make sure you were safe since you worked with blood, and he wasn’t sure how far the Skins would go to get what they want. Personally, I always thought he was full of shit. Figured him for one of those conspiracy theory types, but apparently the cuz knows what he’s doing when it comes to keeping people safe. Guess that’s why Drak pays him well. He’s handy at securing things.”
Lola’s mouth hung open with the shock of Hazel’s words. How many times could her reality flip flop in one night before she completely lost it?
“So… let me get this straight.,” she began. “My job is effectively worthless because it didn’t keep Daybreakers from killing people for blood as I thought it would.”
“I wouldn’t call it worthless. You’re still feeding good vamps most days of the week.”
“My best friend,” she continued, “is actually a security agent assigned to watch me day in and out.”
“Security agent is a suuuuuper technical term that I, for one, have never used.”
“And my crush is my best friend’s cousin, which I was led to believe was her good-for-nothing boyfriend.”
“Buuuuut he’s a little more than a crush, right? I mean, right?”
“Hazel!”
“Whaaaaat?” she crooned. “Don’t be a hypocrite. You’ve been keeping secrets too.”
It was true. She had. But nothing that involved Hazel.
“Come on. I’ve seen you cut your finger early in the day and it would be healed by the time we closed up.”
“I have good genes,” Lola defended.
“Riiight. I do too. But a cut is a cut. And cuts don’t heal in eight hours.”
“Fine. But I think this is apples to oranges.” Lola lowered her tone. “Did you tell Hatch?”
“Of course not,” Hazel scoffed. “You think I’d betray you like that?”
Lola rolled her eyes at that.
“Besides, I didn’t actually know what you were. So… what the fuck are you?”
Lola sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m nothing.”
“Oh, I see,” Hazel murmured. “Still don’t trust me after all this? Hey, I get it. I don’t trust easy either. But after tonight, I dunno, maybe that’s changing.”
Just hearing hard-ass Hazel soften like that made Lola feel better. Not everything was as it seemed, but that didn’t mean it was all bad either. Some things were changing for the better. She would focus on those things, and face the bad head on, as it came.
The sound of the shower cut off, and a familiar trill of excitement fluttered in her belly. Now that she knew the truth, she could give Hatch an answer. She could tell him the truth without worrying about hurting anyone.
“Hazel, I gotta go.”
“Yeah, okay. Just… ya know… don’t be too hard on him, Lo. I think he loves you.”
As she hung up, those words did something strange to Lola. Made her feel wild, but calmed her at the same time. And once again, the idea of a future with her kind-hearted Slaker filled her with hope.
Chapter Eight
Hatch opened the door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Lola shouldn’t have been surprised. His clothes were as grimy as hers and she’d taken the only robe.
Her gaze traveled over his broad shoulders, glistening from the moisture in the room, down his sculpted chest, and across his riveted abs before she caught herself staring and brought her eyes back to his face.
He was amazing, but there was more to admire than just his muscular appearance. He’d protected her. Or tried to. Which meant he thought she was normal human like him.
Hatch walked to the bed without looking at her, and pulled the thick comforter back. “Get in,” he said, quietly.
“I… I think we should talk first. I never answered your question.”
A sad smile curved his lips and still, he avoided her gaze. “But you did. Sometimes no answer is an answer. Now, get in.”
She obeyed, sliding carefully under the covers so her robe wouldn’t open. Hatch brought the blanket up around her shoulders, tucking it carefully under her chin. She watched his face. He was six foot wall again, closed off tight. He was Mr. Jacobson when she needed him to be Hatch.
“Or maybe no answer just means I was confused and hurt.”
His gaze snapped to her, his brow furrowing.
“I thought you were with Hazel,” she said quietly.
His eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Hazel? You thought…” He looked disturbed and she rushed forward with an explanation.
“After the explosion, when I realized you two knew each other, I thought you were the man she was crying over last night. But it turns out she made it all up because you told her to keep an eye on me. Is that true? You did that?”
His eyes blinked closed for a long moment before he admitted, “Yes.”
“You… you’ve been watching out for me. You knew the danger happening under the population’s nose and you worried I’d get caught in the crosshairs.”
“Yes.”
“And you sent Hazel to do it undercover.”
“Yes, but she calls you her friend, Lola. You weren’t just a job to her.”
“I know. But…” She pressed her lips together, drawing courage from the budding hope she saw in his eyes. “I didn’t need protection. I can take care of myself.”
Hatch shook his head. “I wasn’t taking any chances with you.”
But he did with Hazel, and what she was trying to tell him was, she was more capable of defending herself.
“I’ve known you were mine since the first day you came to the bank,” she whispered. “My animal told me.”
Hatch frowned hard. “Your animal?”
“The one that lives inside me. A she-bear.”
“You’re a shifter?” he breathed, but she shook her head. They were rare these days. Mostly bred out. Heritage and the old ones, though they were still many, were all that was left.
“No. I don’t shift. Don’t need to.” The animal was dormant, but it was there, guiding her instincts along with the other pieces of her.
“Wait,” he said, shaking his head. “Say that first part again.”
“I knew you were mine—”
“That,” he said, his voice trembling. “Stop right there, because the rest doesn’t really matter right now.” He searched her face, eyes roaming all over. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
He held his breath for her answer, and she swan dived off the ledge containing all her fear of rejection, all her hang-ups about who she was. She let it all go because this was that wild and crazy thing her grandpa talked about, and her heart was saying take the leap.
“I’m saying I went to work everyday wondering if it would be the day you dropped in to donate. I’m saying I lived for those moments when I handed you the pen so I could brush against your skin. I’m saying I became addicted to your eyes and the way they looked at me like I mattered. I’m saying when I saw you in the street tonight, it was the only time I’ve ever been that afraid. Because I didn’t know if you’d make it out alive. But then you did, and…” Tears glazed her eyes, and she whispered the rest because even the empty air around them was more than she wanted to share it with. “I’m saying yes, I ache for you, Hatch. You aren’t alone.”
His eyes closed and his shoulders slumped in relief. For several breaths, his head hung, but seconds later, she felt the change in the air. Felt the intense emotion rolling off him. It sent a shiver through her body, no matter the blankets she was swaddled in.
When he looked up at her, his soft eyes had turned blazing hot. His hungry look manifested in a sizzling pool of desire between her legs.
“Oh, Lola,” he husked. “I’m going to fix it where we don’t ache anymore. Where we won’t ache again ever. I’m going to kiss you now, the way I’ve wanted to for so long. Hard and fast, soft and sweet. And then I plan on learning how ev
ery curve of your body can fit perfectly with mine. After that, we’ll never be apart. Not as long as we’re both living. Because you said it, I’m yours. And you… you are my star, and I’m touching.”
He barely got the words out before his lips crashed down on hers, steely yet soft, and so delicious she moaned loud enough the sound echoed off the walls.
His hands came down on the bed, bracketing her head, and the weight of his body pressed down on her through the covers. Another moan, and his tongue swooped in for a taste. Over and over, he lapped at her mouth like he couldn’t get enough, until she pushed back gently.
“I want to feel your skin,” she groaned. “Against mine.” The heat she’d dreamed of was right there within her reach, but she was bound to the bed by his weight and the blankets.
Hatch rose up to his knees and Lola realized his towel was coming undone. It was held together by the very tip of the corner. One slight move, a gust of air, and it would be free. Since her hands weren’t available, she wanted to blow on it to rush it along. But he scooted to one side, yanking her blankets back with a jerk, and the towel—and what was behind it—was forgotten.
His fingers pried open the belt on her robe with only two jerking motions, and then he was peeling back the terry cloth to reveal her quivering body. This is where he slowed down. Like he wanted to savor it. Like opening a Christmas present and taking care not to rip the paper. It felt magical like that.
Hatch pushed his towel aside, and Lola got her first look at the rest of his body. His rippled muscles followed a V down to his rigid erection. He was swollen with desire and she mindlessly licked her lips at the sight. His cock bobbed tall and proud for her, and she reached out to touch it.
Folding her hand around it, she stroked from base to tip, shivering at its hardness. Inside, her bear growled at the idea of Hatch claiming her with it.
“Enough,” he ground out before collapsing on her, mouth first, body a second later.
His smooth, hot skin felt just as perfect as she’d imagined. At this point, she was convinced nothing could feel better than his body sliding against hers, the hard tips of her breasts against the coarse spattering of hair on his chest. The hard muscle of his thigh between her softer ones.
