...Every nerve ending in my body sang as I raced down the corridor of the arena to my dressing room. I’d just finished the last stop on my tour, and Hawk said he’d be waiting for me afterward. I couldn’t wait to see him.

The door to my dressing room was open a crack and I skidded to a stop when I heard voices and my name being mentioned.

“You have to tell Rod, Hawk. He should know.”

That was Heidi. She’d flown in from L.A. to meet up with me, so we could do some work before I took a couple of weeks to unwind.

“Heidi, I won’t do that to him.” Hawk sounded firm.

“Tell me what?” I shoved open the door to find Heidi and Hawk squared off, arms folded and glaring at each other.

Frowning, I studied both of their faces. Heidi was a friend as well as an employee, and normally she got along with Hawk, but Hawk must have done something to make her angry because her blue eyes flashed. Hawk’s black eyes were blank, not showing any emotion. I drank in his dear face, itching to trace his dark eyebrows and brush the waterfall of dark hair off his forehead. I tucked my hands in my pockets. It wouldn’t do to show any of that. Not at this point in time. Hawk jumped when I walked in, like he hadn’t heard the door open or my question.

“Ask me what?” I repeated.

“Nothing.” Hawk smiled, though his eyes didn’t.

“Hawk,” Heidi protested.

“Not your choice, Heidi. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

She heaved a frustrated sigh and turned to face me with a forced smile. “Great show, Rod.”

I hugged her, but didn’t take my eyes from Hawk. “Thanks, sweetheart. Are you two staying at my hotel?”

They nodded, still not looking at each other. The tension between them bothered me, yet I understood it wasn’t any of my business, even if it sounded like Hawk was hiding something from me. I knew better than to try to force him to tell me before he was ready. A mule couldn’t teach Hawk anything new about being stubborn.

“Great. Let me change and we’ll head out.”

I grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from one of the chairs and headed toward the bathroom. Hawk always teased me about my modesty, never seeming to think I didn’t change in front of him because I didn’t want him to see how hard I got every time we were around each other.

More urgent whispering ensued while I tugged off my leather pants and sweat-soaked silk shirt. After tossing them on the counter, I wet a cloth in the sink and wiped down as best I could. Definitely taking a shower when I got back to the hotel. I hated feeling grimy like I often did after performing.

Getting sweaty with another guy in an intimate situation was one thing. Shit, I loved that smell, but just me stinking almost put me off food at times. Letting the water run, I dunked my head under the faucet and let the cool water soothe the pounding in my brain.

“Are you okay?” Hawk asked from beside me.

Shivering, I kept my eyes closed as he stroked his hand over my shoulder. His talented fingers trailed over my newest tattoo, a red-tailed hawk in flight.

“Is this for me?”

“Yes.” I shut off the water and straightened, taking the towel he held out for me. I dried off slightly, not wanting to take the time to get completely dry. “I don’t know anyone else whose name is Hawk.”

“Do you know in Celtic lore, a hawk is thought to empower people to examine everything and choose the positive things for their life and to allow them to let the negative things go?” Hawk murmured, watching me get dressed.

“What does your Native American side say about hawks?”

My friend often found comfort in the mythology of both his ancestors. Even if I wasn’t very religious, I never doubted his beliefs, for often I found they comforted me as well.

“The Navajo see the hawk as being a messenger, bringing change with him on his wings.”

“What do you think?”