When Hawk saw the look on Sky's face, he immediately realized two things.

Number one - Sky still had feelings for him.

Number two - It had been a massive mistake to sleep with Maya Riley.

It hadn't felt like a mistake before. On the contrary - When Maya asked if Hawk wanted to go to the after-party with her, it didn't feel like a mistake.

When he kissed her the first time and her soft lips opened to let his tongue in, it didn't feel like a mistake.

When she turned all soft and hot under his hands that roamed over her luscious curves, it didn't feel like a mistake.

And Fucking Hell, when he banged her on the bathroom countertop, digging his fingers into the soft skin of her thighs and pushing her legs apart, burying his face in her enormous tits, banged her hard without a condom because she said she was on the pill, and when he came, coating her tight insides with his cum, it didn't feel like a mistake, no, it felt like he was finally in control of his life again, he was on top of the fucking world—

But now.

He would have given anything to undo it all.

The post-orgasmic bliss left him in a heartbeat, leaving behind only a cold, sickening mess.

Maya was there, clinging to his side, her arms wrapped around his body, the scent of sex and her perfume were thick in the air, making Hawk sick. She was giggling, burying her burning face against his shoulder, the halo that was attached to her blond locks was all messed up and bent, her costume crumpled, and the fresh hickeys on her neck and her boobs told a clear message to anyone who saw them that this girl had just been fucked, that she had been fucked hard and well, and yeah, that was how Hawk liked to see his girl after sex, but–

But it wasn't just anyone who saw them. It was Sky.

She stared at them, her eyes widening. Her cheeks flushed, tears filled her eyes - huge, clear teardrops that silently fell to her cheeks as her lower lip began to tremble.

"Sky—" Hawk groaned, as the realization hit him.

That wasn't the face of someone who didn't care. That look on her face could only mean one thing, it could only mean—

—She's still in love with me?!

"Sky, I—" he started, but the words failed him. She stood there frozen, tears running down her face in streams, her body trembling slightly as if she was a leaf in the autumn wind, the stem barely attached to the tree at all, a leaf that would be ripped into the storm any second, a broken, fragile leaf that the wind would tear apart.

"This— this didn't mean anything—" Hawk managed, releasing Maya from under his arm, shoving her away. "Sky, I swear, she means nothing to me!"

"What?" Breathed Maya, and started to cry. "But— you said you liked me—"

Hawk glanced at her, exasperated. The blond girl was now sobbing too, her shoulders and her tits shaking, looking like a complete mess as her mascara started running down her flushed, round cheeks.

For fuck's sake—

"Maya come on—"

"Did— did you lie to me? You li– lied? So that I would—?" Maya sobbed, looking absolutely miserable. Gone were her smile and her giggles, her breathless moans, the way she had come apart under his touch, moaning out his name.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He so didn't have time for Maya's meltdown now!

"Yeah I lied—!" Hawk yelled at the blond girl. "What did you think? Jesus—!"

His mean words were the truth, and they hit Maya as hard as if he had punched her. Without another word, she turned and rushed away from him, crying as she went, and Hawk honestly didn't give a shit if she was upset, not now. Yeah, the sex had been good and her body was amazing, but that was all he had ever wanted from her and her hurt feelings didn't mean anything to him, but Sky—

He hadn't realized she still cared. That after everything he had done and said and broken, she still cared. But now, now that he knew—

He swirled around, a thousand apologies and explanations on his lips, but Sky wasn't there anymore. She was rushing in the opposite direction, pushing her way through the people who had gathered in the hallway to see what all the drama was about.

His heart in his throat, Hawk went after her.

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Stupid, stupid, stupid—

I'm so fucking stupid!

We broke up. I fucking left him. He can do whatever he wants—

But it didn't matter what Sky tried to tell herself. The pain was cutting her chest open. She couldn't shake the images off her mind, the images of Hawk with that blond girl under his arm, her flushed cheeks, the hickeys on her boobs. On her Damn boobs! Sky tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept flowing, her breathing came in ragged, painful sobs.

Maya. Hawk had fucked Maya in the bathroom. Sweet, lovely, beautiful Maya in her cute and sexy angel costume. Sky could imagine how his lips roamed over her body, sucking on her boobs, and that thought was a dagger through her heart. Maya was so fucking pretty, curvy and hot and everything Sky wasn't, a nice, normal girl without any fucking issues or the shitload of baggage that Sky had—

Of course, Hawk had liked a girl like that. She had curves and boobs and all, unlike Sky, who knew she still looked like she was fucking 12 years old. Of course, Hawk had always wanted a girl like that, not a batshit crazy nutjob like she was, this broken shell of a girl who had no heart and no soul, who was a stupid slut who didn't even have boobs—

And it was okay, she got it. She had dumped him. He didn't owe her any explanation, he wasn't hers anymore, and that had been the way she had wanted it, but—

But then why did it hurt so much?

Why did it feel like her chest was collapsing, her ribs breaking, her heart, oh her poor, broken heart, it was stopping inside of her chest and she would die, die here, die in a pool of blood on a cold, tiled floor—

She had to get away from him. Mindlessly she pushed her way through the crowd in the hallway. The beat of the music was making her sick, it was too loud, it was breaking her chest. The taste of the tears made her choke, but she couldn't stop them.

And then she was in the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder, and her stomach turned when she saw the red mohawk and realized that Hawk was following her.

No, no, no, I don't want to hear anything he has to say—!

Panicking, Sky pushed her way into the kitchen, trying to draw in a breath, but she was choking on her tears, there were so many kids in this room and not enough air, and her legs were weak, she was blind and she was stupid and she was everything Maya wasn't, she was falling into a dark hole that would never, ever let her climb back up again.

And then, suddenly, in front of her was Cody. He stood exactly where she had left him a lifetime ago, leaning on the kitchen counter. He held a bottle of beer in his hands, the black stetson was tipped to the back of his head, revealing some of his dark hair that fell to his ears and his forehead. He stared at the beer in his hands, clearly deep in thought, as if the party and the music around him didn't exist at all. He hadn't seen her yet, and there was something in his posture, a hint of sadness and loneliness that Sky recognized. He was alone in the crowd, just like Sky was alone too, sad and alone, and broken.

He was the only one who could help her.

"Cody—" She called his name, and he looked up, his brows arching high on his forehead as he saw her state.

"Hey, hey, hey— what happened?" he asked and reached a hand to help her past the last people who stood between them. "Why are you crying?"

His eyes were wide and dark in this dimly lit kitchen and the cowboy hat cast sharp shadows under his cheekbones, but his features were soft, there was kindness in his eyes when he brought his hands to her cheeks, brushing away her burning tears.

"Kiss me—" Sky sobbed, tears flowing to his hands that cradled her face. "Cody, please, kiss me now."

His eyes widened, his lips parted. "What—?"

"Kiss me! I want him to see."

As he heard the desperate panic in her voice, the realization set on his face. What had been soft and surprised a heartbeat ago, was now suddenly sad, so sad that Sky felt it piercing her heart, but she didn't have time to think about that, not now, because Hawk was catching up with her and she wanted him to know she didn't give a shit, that she was over him, that she was moving on, even if it was a lie.

"Okay," Cody said softly, his breathing fanning her face. "It's okay, I've got you."

His other hand moved to the small of her back, the other one was on the back of her head, he tilted her face up, and then—

His lips were on hers. And oh, how soft they were, how hot. How firmly his hands held her, and yet he kept the kiss light, just lips, no tongue, but oh, how hungry those lips felt on hers, how he sighed when he broke the kiss, and—

"Is he looking?" Sky breathed, wrapping her arms around Cody's neck.

He glanced over Sky's shoulder, and the line of his jaw turned hard.

"He looks pretty mad," Cody's lips brushed hers, his hands pulled her closer, bending her body against his lean chest. "You know, this might end badly for me."

"You don't have to do this—"

But he silenced her by kissing her again, and Sky could only succumb to that kiss. It was a Hollywood kiss, meant to look perfect, but she hadn't thought it would feel that perfect too. The scent of his spicy aftershave and the old leather jacket was all around her and she wasn't choking anymore, her chest wasn't collapsing, instead, inside of her ribcage something was beating, hard and fast, it was her broken heart slamming against her breastbone louder than the beat of the music that filled the kitchen.

The kiss was cut short, as someone shoved Cody off her, a flash of brightest red and darkest black, and Sky saw a fist smashing against Cody's face.

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