The sleeve snagged around my injured wrist twice before I managed to carefully work it off without crying out.
Hawk didn’t say anything.
But I could feel his eyes on me the entire time— not wandering, not distracted—just… watching.
Which somehow made the whole process even more awkward.
Eventually, I managed to pull on a loose hoodie and a pair of soft sweatpants. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked.
Once I finished, I slipped past him into the attached bathroom. The bright bathroom lights made me squint immediately. My reflection in the mirror made me wince. Mascara had smeared down my cheeks in dark streaks. My eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and my hair looked like it had survived a hurricane.
I turned the faucet on and grabbed a washcloth. Cold water hit my skin as I started scrubbing the mascara away carefully.
Behind me, I heard Hawk shift in the bedroom. A few seconds passed, and then his voice drifted through the doorway.
“You planning on sleeping in there?”
I rolled my eyes as I wiped the last of the mascara from under my eye. “I’m washing my face.”
“You’re taking too long.”
I dried my face with a towel and leaned closer to the mirror to check my eyes.
“Emma.” His tone carried a warning now.
I stepped back into the bedroom. “I said I’ll go tomorrow.”
Hawk pushed himself off the dresser immediately. “No, you won’t.”
“I will,” I insisted. “It’s late and—”
“Your wrist is broken.”
“I’ll survive one night.”
He took two slow steps toward me. The movement was calm, controlled. But something about the way he looked at me made the argument die halfway up my throat.
“You’re not sleeping with a broken bone,” he said flatly.
“You don’t get to be stubborn about this.”
“I’ve done worse.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Get your ass moving.”
The command snapped through the room before I could argue again. I stared at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I get that a lot.”
Before I could say anything else, he reached down and grabbed my purse off the chair beside the bed. “What are you doing?” I asked.
Hawk opened it and immediately pulled out my car keys. “We’re leaving.”
“I can drive myself—”
“No you can’t.”
He lifted my injured wrist slightly with two fingers before I could pull away. “Unless you plan on steering with your knee.”
