Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (Hawke Family #1)(65)
Caroline leans forward and shakes her head. “So, what went wrong? I don’t get it.”
Images of last night flit around in my head, the feeling of helplessness I had then starting all over again. I take a large gulp of my whiskey, letting the burn of the liquor replace the memory of the burn of my eyes with my own tears. “He freaked out. I mean, full-blown panic attack that lasted something like half an hour.”
“Freaked out how?”
I drop my head and stare into the half-empty whiskey glass. I attempt to describe what went down the best I can, but finding words to accurately portray the turmoil of the night proves impossible. I stumble through my description of Savage’s breakdown, finally sucking up the courage to lift my head and see Caroline’s reaction.
She stares at me, completely dumbfounded. “Woah, so that sounds like it was pretty intense.”
“Intense doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’ve never been so terrified in my entire life. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could say, to pull him from whatever bottomless, black abyss he fell into.”
Setting her glass on the coffee table, Caroline reaches out and yanks my glass from my hand, downing the rest. “Sorry, your story is enough to make me need more of this, and I wasn’t even there! I can’t even imagine what a mind-fuck that must have been for you.”
I run my hands back through my hair, fighting the tears threatening to escape as I mentally relive every fucking second, because every second had felt like an eternity.
“I was helpless, and he refused to talk to me.”
“So, what did you do?”
I bark out a mirthless laugh. “Well, fucking genius that I am, I told him I loved him and then left him when he probably needed me the most.”
She stands, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with the bottle. She pours two generous fingers into each of our glasses and holds one out to me. “You told him you loved him?”
The disbelief and concern in her expression has me practically chugging down the potent whiskey. I hiss against the burn, burying my face against my knees. “Yep.”
“Did you mean it?”
My head snaps up. “Of course I meant it. You think that’s something I throw around? Just toss out there to any guy who makes me come?”
“No, Danika, in fact, I’m shocked as shit you told him. Part of me wondered if you were even capable of the commitment loving someone requires.”
“Wow, harsh much?”
She rolls her eyes. “Dude, come on, I don’t call you ‘slut’ just because you’re prettier and thinner than me. You and I both know, until you met Savage, you only had one use for men—good, old fashion, sweaty, dirty, nasty-as-hell sex!”
I cringe.
She isn’t wrong.
I made my mind up long ago that men were put on this Earth to pleasure me, period. I was never one of those girls who needed to be wined and dined. Frankly, you were much more likely to get laid walking up to me at a bar and asking me to fuck than if you spent hours schmoozing me and making me feel like a princess.
My stomach churns and bile rises in my throat. Would I have used Savage as just a fuck buddy? Would I have had mind-blowing sex and walked away without looking back if it had been an option from the beginning?
“Shit.” I scrub my hands over my face and reach for my glass, downing the rest. “I guess I wasn’t exactly looking for love and a white picket fence. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”
“Honey, I just want you to be happy. Savage is a great guy, but, this is your first real relationship, and, sometimes I wonder if you subconsciously see him as some kind of project, something to fix?”
“Fuck you, Caroline, how can you honestly think that?”
She holds her hands up and backs away from me on the couch. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate, Dani, take it or leave it. Just be sure you know what you are doing before you sit here and pine for someone who may never be able to give you what you need.”
“You have no idea what I need, Caroline. How could you? I didn’t even know I needed it until I met Savage.”
I stare at the empty pizza box and beer bottles on the coffee table and my stomach churns, already revolting against the cheesy goodness and empty calories I scarfed down. Gabe reclines next to me on the couch, flipping aimlessly through channels, just like he has been for the last two hours, with Princess snuggled on his lap.
Glancing at my phone, I groan when I see twenty-three missed calls. I scroll through the call log and I’m not surprised to see most of them are from Skye—one from my mom, one from Storm, but the other twenty-one, all Skye. I knew she didn’t believe a word I said when we spoke earlier today. I’ve never been a good liar, and Skye can see through bullshit better than anyone I’ve ever met, probably because she’s so good at spewing it herself.
Twenty-three fucking calls and none of them are from Dani. The churning storm starts again in my stomach.
I just couldn’t bear family dinner tonight. Everyone would be asking about Danika, wondering why she didn’t come along again, and, as aforementioned, I’m a shitty liar.
Gabe stops on Naked and Afraid. It appears this week’s participants are fulfilling their death wishes in Uganda. Why anyone would want to put themselves, or their bodies, through this for twenty-one days is beyond me, but it does make for entertaining television.