Tessa
“I’m going to leave you to it,” Martha says from behind me. She pats my shoulder, leaving us in the room with the click of the door.
Hawk drops his head and shoves his hands in his pockets. I stand still with my arms wrapped around me hoping like hell they’ll be able to protect me from whatever Hawk may throw at me. I’m sure he has questions, and he’s going to want answers. Answers that I’m not ready to give. Martha was right. Even though Hawk will always be more of an angel to me, a friend, it’s certain that him being here will only allow the demons that I’ve kept locked away to return.
The leather of his cut does nothing to hide the build of his body. His chest and arms are fuller than I remember. He only had one tattoo on the underside of his bicep, but now his other arm is covered in a full sleeve. If I were stronger, I’d take a step and run my fingers along the intricate designs. I still remember the way his skin felt under my touch. The way his skin would pebble with goosebumps as I ran my nails along the muscles of his chest. I’d ask him why he got each one, what does each of them mean. But I’m not that strong, so I’ll keep my distance.
Hawk looks lift his head slightly, bring his eyes up the rest of the way. A smile tugs at his lips, and I wish I could return one. I want to be happy to see him, but right now the only emotion that’s flowing through my body right now is fear.
“Wow. You look… You look good, Tessa. Beautiful, really.”
I close my eyes in protest. Beautiful. A word I’ve heard used several times to describe me, but it never meant anything. It never did really, unless it was being said by him. The joys of a childhood crush.
Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes seeing that his stance as change. He’s now standing at his full height, slightly taller than my own. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, mirroring my own posture. I know he’s waiting. I let out a forced laugh. “Not sure if I should believe you since I’m the definition of bone tired right now.”
I lift my hand to the messy knot on my head, fingering the hairs that are sticking out, this way and that. “My hair’s a mess.” I look down, taking in my uniform. “See my knees? Those smudges,” I point down, “are because every day I’m cleaning at least five wads of gum off the floors because people have no regard. Yep, I’m sure I look incredibly beautiful.”
He drops his arms, hooking his thumbs into the edge of his pockets. “Where have you been?”
“Here. I’ve been here.”
He takes a step towards me, but then he sees my shoulders draw up, he stops his movement and retreats back. He blows out a frustrated breath. “Why did you leave?” I shake my head, not wanting to say. “Seven years, Tessa.”
“I know how long, Hawk,” I snap. He doesn’t say anything, but his stare is unnerving. “I did what I had to do.”
“You thought you had to leave?”
“I knew I had to leave.”
“Why–”
When moaning starts coming from Rose, Hawk turns around and walks back to his mother. I use this time to make my exit. I wasn’t wrong for calling Bianca, but I was wrong for not telling her or Martha that I didn’t want to see him. Gripping the metal of the handle in my hand, I pull on it slowing, trying not to make a noise.
“Tessa?”
My shoulders tense at the sound of his voice. I look over my shoulder.
“Thank you for making the call.”
I nod without saying another word.
As soon as I reach the nurses’ station, I check the clock on the wall. Shit, I’m ten minutes late to pick up Sam.
“That didn’t last long,” Martha says as she enters the station, dropping a couple of files on the desk.
“How could you do that to me?” I hiss.
“Don’t take that tone with me, baby girl.”
“I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“We never are prepared for situations like that, now are we?” She pulls out the netted chair from the desk and sits down. “You knew. You knew what you were doing when you made that phone call.”
“I was helping out an old friend.”
She raises her eyebrow and presses her lips together. “Are you sure about that? Because from what you’ve told me about Hawking and his mother, that wasn’t a reunion that needed to happen.”
I throw my hands up in the air, which only makes her laugh in return. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get Sam.”
“Give that boy a hug from his aunt Martha, baby.”
I don’t respond. I keep going, walking down the halls, past patients’ rooms, past Rose’s room, the need to stop and see him one more time is substantial, but I can’t. I can’t go there. I can’t bring my past into my present.
I’m just not strong enough.