Page 9 of Blurred Lines

“What? No. Stay and watch a movie with us.”

I shake my head, knowing after everything she’s been through that she needs a night with just her guys. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Relenting, she gives me a hug, and I head toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Hawk’s gruff voice has me pausing. Of course I couldn’t escape without him having a say in the matter.

“Back to my room.” I state, barely sparing him a glance before continuing on. That is, until his next words confuse the absolute fuck out of me.

“I’ll walk you.”

I spear him with a quizzical look, trying to work out his game here. Hawk doesn’t have a gentlemanly bone in his body, so if he’s offering to escort me back to my room—for which there is absolutely no need—then he must be up to something.

“You don’t—”

The asshole doesn’t even let me finish my sentence, pressing a large palm to my lower back and reaching around me to pull open the door.

I huff out an annoyed breath.Alright then, I guess he’s walking me back to my room.

Neither of us speak as we head down the stairs and out into the evening air. Even though he keeps a safe distance from me, my chest feels tight, and I can’t stop glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. I don’t even know why I feel so nervous. Hawk is intimidating but it’s not like I think he would actually do something to hurt me. At least, not physically. A guy like Hawk though, he could do a lot of damage with words alone. Maybe that’s why my palms are sweating, and my heart bangs against my ribs.

I cast another quick look his way, and I can’t understand how he seems so at ease. I’m a ball of nervous energy, yet his posture is loose and relaxed. The foreboding expression he wore earlier has long gone, and he’d almost look serene, if it wasn’t for the tight lines around his face. He never fully lets his guard down. He never just lets himself be. He’s always on the defensive, his default setting, one intended to keep people away. The longer I watch him, the more I realize he’s exactly like Hadley. He’s got the same defense mechanisms built around him, constructing such an impenetrable blockade, I’m not even sure he’s aware of it. The only difference is, Hadley’s barriers have been slowly falling since she’s been here, whereas Hawk’s only seem to be fortifying. The only people he lets slip through them are Hadley and the guys. I shouldn’t be curious, but I can’t help but wonder what he’s like when he lets his guard down.

We walk in silence all the way to my door, and I’m starting to think he did genuinely just plan to walk me back, without any ulterior motives.

Unlocking the door, I open it, and step into the doorway, turning to face him. “Umm,” I begin awkwardly, not sure what to say. I glance down at my hands, fidgeting with the key. It’s then that I notice his split knuckles, the blood crusted along the creases. “I have a first aid kit, if you wanna clean that up,” I say, pointing to his hands.

He glances down, as if seeing them for the first time, before responding. “Sure.”

Glad to have something to do, I move deeper into my room, fishing out my first aid kit and some cotton pads. Gesturing for him to sit on the bed, I perch beside him and soak the pads in antiseptic. I go to dab at his cuts before hesitating, suddenly realizing how close we’re sitting. I can practically feel the heat emanating from his leg. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to see the indecision warring within me as he takes the cotton wool from my hand and does the job himself.

He meticulously cleans each knuckle. Clearly he’s done it a time or two before, and when he’s done, I wordlessly take the balled up pads from him and toss them in the trash. Setting the first aid kit back in the top drawer of my desk, I hover by it, once again unsure what to do next. Why does he make me feel so nervous when I’m around him?

He doesn’t look the slightest bit perturbed to be in my bedroom, late at night. Can he not feel the tension in the air, or the sheer fucking awkwardness radiating off of me? He takes his time, casting his gaze around my room. I wonder what he sees when he takes in the weird mismash of posters ranging from the periodic table, to various boy bands, to ones of cute animals.

Eventually, his eyes land on me. “I’m glad Hadley has a friend like you. She needs that.”

My eyebrows have surely disappeared into my hairline, because I am so fucking shocked that Hawk is saying anything remotelyniceabout me. I was—I still am—certain I infuriate him as much as he does me.

I don’t even know how to respond to that, and I probably look like a complete idiot as I just stare at him. This must be the big brother side of him that Hadley speaks so fondly of. Well, usually she’s grumbling about it, but I see the fondness in her eyes. She loves having a big brother who looks out for her.

The silence drags on for an awkward amount of time, before Hawk rises to his feet. “Well, thanks for that,” he says, gesturing to the first aid kit.

“Sure.” The word comes out choked, and I don’t move from my spot by the desk as he heads for the door, tossing me a final, unreadable look over his shoulder before heading out.

I’m still staring at the door, long after he’s gone, trying to understand what just happened, because it feels likesomethinghappened, I just don’t know what.

***

The weeks go by in a blur of school work, but one thing becomes apparent as the days go by. Hadley’s struggling. She snaps at me several times, and she doesn’t write down a single note in class. I’ve told her I’m here if she wants to talk, but she blows me off every time, so I’ve resorted to biting my tongue, unsure what to do. I can tell the guys are worried too as they all helicopter her, especially Hawk. He’s always sneaking glances her way, and he’s even messaged me when I’m alone with her, to check how she’s doing. That’s how I know he must be worried. Ever since the night he walked me back to my room, he’s all but ignored me, unless it’s our typical snarking back and forth.

It’s Friday night, and we’re having our usual movie night—me, Hadley and Wilder. It’s the first one since the start of the semester, and Wilder is currently deep in thought as he tries to select a movie while we wait for Hadley to arrive.

Leaning in to look over his shoulder, I groan, finding him scrolling through a list of superhero movies.Of course he is.I’ve seen more superhero movies this year than I ever wanted to see in my life. The first couple were fine, but at some point they all just became the same.

“What about a non-superhero movie?” I suggest futilely.

He turns his head so he can see me over his shoulder and gapes like I just said something scandalous. Shaking his head in disappointment, he returns his focus to the screen, and a second later, he gasps. “Yes. I’ve got it. Theperfectmovie.”

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