Hawke swore one day he’d hate Maddox for using him…
Maddox, lead singer of the band, Ugly Eternity, is a man of many secrets. Unfortunately, Hawke isn’t one of them. He’s been openly using Hawke for his delicious body for over a year, taunting him with a half-life, and always giving him just enough hope to keep him hanging on.
When three tiny and heartless words finally break Hawke, the day of reckoning arrives…
Even though Maddox knew Hawke would one day grow tired of his games, Maddox never expected how thoroughly the other man would cut him from his life. Left with no other recourse, Maddox is forced to live on Hawke’s terms to have any chance of reclaiming Hawke’s heart.
But in Hawke’s determination to rid himself of the sexy singer, he failed to consider one major detail—he belongs to Maddox.
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Copyright © 2015 Charity Parkerson
He’d had enough. This constant weight sitting on his chest was choking the life from Hawke. The price of Maddox was Hawke’s sanity. It wasn’t one he could afford to pay any longer. Anger carried Hawke’s feet outside, intent on settling things now. Waiting hadn’t gained him shit. He found Maddox at his car, shirtless and digging around in the trunk.
“What was that all about?”
Maddox glanced up. The closed expression on his face let Hawke know this would be a useless conversation. Maddox shrugged.
“You were horny. I helped you out. No big deal.”
No big deal. Hawke’s brain latched onto those three tiny words and repeated them like a mantra. Anger grew with each pass. As usual, he was no big deal. “I’ve got some of your clothes in my backseat.” Hawke couldn’t believe how calm he sounded. Surely that wasn’t his voice.
Maddox didn’t seem to notice anything off. “You should throw them out.”
Hawke ran his hands through his hair, beyond frustrated. The guy couldn’t give him inch. Not ever. “At least take my shirt so you’ll have something. It’s my fault you’re without, and I can go home whereas you still have to work.” Maddox still wouldn’t look at him. He slammed the trunk closed. “Nah. It’s cool.” He flashed a fake smile, not meeting Hawke’s gaze. “Everyone likes me better this way anyhow.” He smoothed his palm across his bare chest, emphasizing his point. “They’ll never even notice when I’m off-key.”
Hawke wanted to punch him in the throat. Maybe then Maddox would understand what it was like to be incapable of drawing a single breath. The way Hawke couldn’t whenever he was around. When he didn’t take the bait, Maddox finally met his gaze. The laughing eyes Hawke loved were gone. This man was a stranger—one Hawke had allowed to break him, over and over again. Tonight was different. There was no love in Maddox’s eyes. Perhaps, there never had been, and Hawke had only ever seen what he wanted. There was no anger as he’d always suspected there would be. They didn’t end in a huge bang of fanfare. Hawke was simply done. He’d fought and loved until Maddox had taken every drop, leaving him with nothing. This man would never care for him, and that was that. Simple. Heartbreaking.
A bitter smile tugged at Hawke’s lips. “You’re never off-key. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He really was. Unlike him, Maddox always landed on his feet.