Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(3)

The cart next to her has to be manned by Alexis' sister, May. The last time I saw her, she was twelve years old, now she has to be what, sixteen? The spitting image of her sister, a couple of inches shorter and a little thinner, she's handing out the free hot dogs too.

I came here knowing at some point I would see Alexis. Talk to her, hear her voice, look on her face again. I've been trying to plan what I could say, how I could say it. I know she's not going to be happy to see me after four years without a word, and I don't know what they told her about where I went or what happened to me. I don't know anything about what's happened to her while I was gone except that she's not supposed to be here. She had a full-ride scholarship to the University of Delaware to study biology; she wanted to be a marine biologist. I know her plans didn't involve handing out hot dogs to get my father elected mayor. Alexis can't stand him, and the feeling was always mutual.

What the f*ck is going on here?

I slip into the line and start inching my way towards the hot dog cart. Alexis glances my way once or twice but her eyes slide over me. She keeps looking around, like she's expecting to see someone.

Cold fear punches into my gut and tightens into a fist. Maybe she is looking for someone. A boyfriend. Maybe she moved on, let me go, forgot about me. I should turn back. I should do what I came here to do and leave her out of it.

I can't now, though. I have to find out why she'd be helping my father, what the hell she'd be doing here, doing this. It's weird that May is here, too. Both of them, serving hot dogs.

Two more people, then it's my turn. One.

I step up to the cart, and Alexis mechanically slaps a hot dog into a bun with a pair of tongs and halfway holds it out to me, only to stop and stare, her eyes going wide as her gaze moves up my chest and settles on my face. Her hand trembles.

"Make me one with everything."

Alexis herself taught me that one. She loved dumb cheeseball jokes like that.

What did the Zen master say to the hot dog man?

Her mouth falls open, and she pulls the hot dog back. A red flush spreads on her face, and her mouth pinches shut, her expression hardening from slack boredom to anger. Very slowly, she lays a thin strip of mustard on the hot dog, then a thin strip of ketchup, and then a wide layer of relish down the middle, then onions. It looks like a TV hot dog, an advertisement. She holds it in her hands reverently.

"Here you go, Hawk."

Then she mashes it into my chest with both hands and grinds the heels of her hands into the mess, smearing it all over my shirt, turns, and bolts.

I blink a few times and look over at Alex's sister.

"Well?" May says. "Go after her."

The hot dog plops to the ground as I skirt around the cart and run after Alexis.

I can see her ponytail swaying in the air as she darts and weaves between people. I'm not so nimble, I almost knock someone over as I close in on her. She spares me a brief glance and leans into it.

She can still run like the devil.

Then she veers off, turning quickly down an alley, moving so fast I stumble and have to stop and change direction to catch up to her.

She's waiting for me, facing me. I skid to a stop on my newly bought sneakers and Alexis rises to her tip-toes, grabs my head in her hands, and kisses me. Hard.

Her lips are soft and warm, and just to kiss her is like swallowing a spoonful of warm honey. I almost pull her against me but I don't want hot dog fixin's all over her shirt, so I settle for holding her by the hips instead.

She breaks from the kiss and pulls back, an unreadable look on her face, somewhere between regret, nostalgia, and anger.

Then she cocks her arm and punches me in the face.

Hard.





Alexis





Now





I turn and duck into the alley. I have to get off the street. I know he's right behind me, and he'll be on me any second. He's so big. Hawk was always a big lummox but he's huge now, a real man monster, and those tattoos! What the hell happened to him? Where did he go? The questions make my eyes burn as I catch my breath and he rounds the corner, comes at me with a big green, yellow and red stain on his shirt from the hot dog. I don't even know why I did that, it just sort of happened. He made that stupid hot dog joke (that I taught him) and then I was shoving it into his shirt and running.

He moves down the alley, draws closer to me. I stand my ground, but my knees shake.

It's him, it's him, it's him.

I dreamed of this for four years. When I was in deep, dark places I prayed, pleaded, begged for him to walk back into my life, pick me up and save me. Now he's here and he smells like pickle relish and he's real, he's standing right in front of me. Instinct takes over before I really think and my lips are on his, his skin under my palms. I almost throw myself at him, but pull back at the last second before I smear condiments all over my chest. His hands fall on my hips, his grip tight, his thumbs pressing slow circles into my sides. When he kisses me, something inside me twists up into a tight ball and my heart flutters.

I never kissed him before.

He never gave me a chance.

That's the other side of the coin, the other end of the equation. I pull back with a sharp breath, cock back and crack him right in the face. I think it hurt my hand more than it hurt him, even if he staggers and clutches his jaw while he stares at me. I shake out my hand, trying to stop my knuckles from throbbing, and keep shaking until my fingers feel loose. Then I fold my arms over my chest to stop from rubbing my hand, trying to make it stop stinging. I feel like I just punched a sandbag with a brick in it.